She smiled. “Thanks,” she answered on a shrug. “I lived alone after I left the group home and learning to cook was pretty much a necessity. All those hours after work, alone in tiny apartments felt shorter when I was in the kitchen. I took my time and learned how to cook real food from scratch.” Her smile was proud and I couldn’t help but smile in return.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I told her honestly. “Though I don’t love that you always lived alone. No girlfriends?”
She shook her head, no emotion in her tone or her eyes. “Not that I trust enough to share my personal space with, and definitely not their boyfriends.”
Her tone made me think of all the reasonswhyshe didn’t want those boyfriends around but now wasn’t the time for anger. Or those kinds of questions. “What aboutyourboyfriends?”
She shrugged those delicate shoulders and looked away. “A few failed relationships not worth mentioning. Basically I dated guys I should’ve poisoned instead of bending over backward to please.” She was so matter of fact about it, but I hated that shit. I wanted to kill them already.
“Names,” I demanded.
Her eyes widened, then she laughed. “Not worth the jail time.”
I grinned at her and pointed to my plate. “So what is this that I can’t get enough of?”
“Shrimp risotto Milanese,” she said. “Shrimp risotto with saffron, white wine, and cream.” She hesitated, then smiled shyly. “It’s definitelynotcheesy tuna rice.”
“Thank fuck for that,” I shuddered. “I still have nightmares about that kitchen experiment.”
The laugh that exploded out of her was vintage Macy, loud and warm, totally unguarded when it was just us. The rest of the meal continued in the same light-hearted and homey manner. It felt right.
“Since you ate all the food, how about a movie?”
“Sounds good. Was that chocolate pudding I saw in the fridge?”
She was grabbing the wine and heading towards the living room. “Pudding,” she scoffed. “No, it’smoussebut it’s not fancy. It’s bananas, cocoa powder and peanut butter.”
“Fuck, that sounds incredible.”
She laughed again. “You’re easy to please.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, taking the not-fancy mousse from the fridge. “Or maybe you just know what I like.” I took the seat right next to her on the sofa, probably too close but I hadn’t seen her in too long and I couldn’t get close enough.
Macy tucked her legs under her, but she leaned against my side the way she always did, comfortable and most of all, she was at ease.
I felt her warmth run up and down the left side of my body, the scent of her invaded my senses making it hard to focus on whatever the fuck was playing on the TV. She was as aware of me as I was of her, but she didn’t act on it.
I didn’t either.
Except sliding my arm around her. I did that because we’d always done it and it had always felt right. Tonight, it felt more than right.
And when she settled her head on my chest the way she’d done thousands of times before, my chest relaxed and expanded the way it had every single time she gave me her trust. My breath caught, hell yeah it probably always would, but I stayed still with my eyes focused on the screen.
Macy let out one of those contented sighs that told me she felt safe and comfortable with me, and that sound meant everything to me. She fell asleep first—probably from the wine—and sat there for a few minutes too long and just listened to her breathing as it mixed with the night sounds.
This was as perfect as a night could fucking be and I wanted to savor it, to capture it in amber to keep the rest of the world from touching it. But I knew better than most that the real world didn’t work that way, so I got up, checked the cameras and made sure the place was locked up tight.
Macy was worth fighting for. Our friendship was worth protecting.
That’s what I repeated on a loop as I carried her up to bed.
Chapter Fourteen
Macy
Iwas thirteen again.
That was the year everything got worse. Like my parents resented that I was getting older, that I was harder to control, harder to neglect. I’d been sound asleep for once, curled up in bed peacefully when the pain tore me awake. It was sharp followed by a radiating sting across my belly.
