Page 69 of Let the Light Shine Through

Patty shakes her head, telling me, “Can’t. He’s still paying off—”

The phone rings, cutting Patty off, and flustered, she hands me a stack of menus, asking if I can seat the next customers in line.

Okay…

I put the family of five in a corner table, then head for the kitchen to see if there’s anything else I can help with. Pushing through the swinging door, I come to a stop, shielding my eyes from a persistent ray of sunlight streaking through an open blind. A few blinks later and I feel like doing it all over again. Gia and Al are…dancing. They’re dancing. Hand in hand, bright smiles on both their faces, they’re dancing around the warm kitchen together to some ungodly opera-sounding song.

Gia’s been so guarded with me lately, but right now, she’s free, she’s herself, and all I can do is stand still, holding my breath as I watch the father/daughter duo, hoping this moment lasts forever. A million right nows. Yeah, I’m starting to get it.

Al spots me first, gesturing for me to join them, but I look over at Gia spinning in a slow circle and point over my shoulder, yelling over the music to him, “Looks like you’ve got a full house tonight!”

Gia comes to a stop, her gaze snapping straight to mine. None of us move for what feels like a whole minute, then she brings up a hand in what feels like slow motion to crook a finger at… I do a quick check behind me to make sure no one else is standing there. Me? She wants…me?

My feet are already moving, putting me within inches of her, my hands opening and closing repeatedly at my sides. I ache to touch her again. Ache.

Through my heart banging against my ribs, up my throat, and into my ears, I somehow manage a “Hi.” It’s small and quiet and doesn’t come close to what I really want to say to her, but it’s something. Something in an endless loop of nothing.

Gia’s own smile doesn’t drop, but her wall does. It’s almost visible, tangible. For the first time in twelve days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes—give or take—she actually looks happy to see me. Or at least isn’t actively pretending not to be.

Every nerve ending on my body sizzles, suddenly making the kitchen feel too small. Too cramped. Too full. Until her hand takes ahold of mine and then it all disappears entirely. Her and me. Me and her.

Her.

“What are you doing?” I tease, lifting her hand as she completes another spin. “There’s an angry mob out there and you’re in here practicing your pirouette?”

She stops in front of me, her big brown eyes like mirrors as I stare down into them. Her finger traces down the length of my nose, starting just between my eyebrows.

“Dance with me, cowboy.”

“So you’re a cowboy?” her dad asks, and I glance over at him, telling him, “No, sir. I’m a snowboarder,” before I realize what I’m saying.

Goddamn it.

“A snowboarder, huh?”

“Not…”

One side of Gia’s mouth lifts, mesmerizing me.

“…anymore,” I finish too quietly for Al to hear as he says, “Good man.”

“He still carves, all right,” Gia says like a praise that has my cock twitching in my pants.

“Can I, uh,” I clear my dry-ass throat, “can I give you two a hand? You don’t have much time before your customers start storming in here.”

“There’s always time to dance, Roz.” Gia’s body starts rocking in time with the next song, this one not quite as bad as opera but still not great. Definitely not your typical dancing music.

“You two carry on without me.” The smile in Al’s voice sounds like how I feel. “I got this.” He returns to the stove, stirring a large pot that unleashes a mouthwatering aroma into the air. Something with rosemary.

All that’s missing is the vanilla.

Grasping Gia’s hips, I pull her flush with mine and inhale. When she looks up at me, I forget how to exhale.

Our bodies dance together, but her moves are unpredictable, as imperfectly perfect as she is, and after a couple more songs of me trying to keep up with Gia, Patty pokes her head into the kitchen with a guilt-inducing look, so we stop to help Al with the food.

Despite the customers being irritable and the orders I’m in charge of not being worthy of anybody’s social feeds, Al takes the time to teach me how to properly seal a pepperoni roll, right in the thick of all the pandemonium, reminding me of his daughter sitting calmly in the middle of the busy skate park.

You can’t control what’s happening around you, which can be scary. Really fucking scary.