Page 17

The nightmare began to slip away, but the little girl’s eyes lingered in my mind.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sofia

I woke up to the smell of something burning. I just lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember why I felt so warm. Then I remembered Ronnie’s arm around my waist, and everything from the night before came back to me.

Ronnie! I turned my head and found that the other side of the bed was empty. The sheets were still warm where Ronnie had been lying, and that made my stomach feel weird. I was a little disappointed. How could I sleep with a man on the first date? I sat up, and that’s when I heard it. A clattering noise came from the kitchen, and it sounded like someone was swearing under their breath.

Ronnie is still here! I put on a robe and walked to the kitchen, wondering what he was doing. Ronnie was standing with his back to me, wearing his trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was a bit messy. I’d never seen Ronnie look anything less than perfect. He was standing over a frying pan, so focused it looked like he was handling something more dangerous than breakfast. I leaned against the doorway.

“What are you doing, money man?”

Ronnie turned around, and for a moment he looked a little guilty. “Breakfast.”

I looked at the pan, then back at Ronnie. “Should I call the fire department?”

“No, no. I have everything under control.” Then a small cloud of smoke rose from the pan. I covered my mouth, but it was too late. I started laughing. Ronnie looked at the pan like it had let him down.

“I don’t see what’s funny,” he said.

“You’re burning the eggs. And the toast,” I added. And whatever that is.” I pointed toward a plate on the counter.

“I’m aware of that.” Ronnie glanced at the counter. “That was supposed to be bacon.”

I laughed harder. I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. Ronnie watched me for a moment. Instead of getting upset, he just shook his head and smiled quietly.

“I see how much you appreciate my effort,” he said.

“I do appreciate the effort,” I said, still laughing. “I’m just not sure I appreciate the result.”

Ronnie turned back to the stove. “Then perhaps you should stop criticizing and start helping.”

I walked over and looked at the mess Ronnie had made. “Move.”

Ronnie stepped aside, a bit dramatically. I took one look at the eggs and sighed. “What were you trying to make?”

“Breakfast,” he said.

“I can see that,” I said. “What kind of breakfast?”

Ronnie thought about it for a moment. “The kind I hope you like.”

That answer caught me off guard. I looked at Ronnie, and the humor in my expression went away. My chest felt warm. For a moment, standing beside Ronnie in my small kitchen with burnt toast between us, I forgot about the questions waiting on my phone and the past I’d spent years trying to figure out.

“You didn’t have to do this.” I could feel my cheeks flush at the kind gesture.

“I know,” Ronnie said. “I wanted to.” That answer did something to me that I didn’t want to examine too closely.

I turned back to the stove before he could see how much his words had affected me. “Well, since you’ve already destroyed the eggs, I’ll take over before you burn down the entire apartment.”

“I was trying to impress you.” His mouth curved into a reluctant smile. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“With that? You know I’m a chef, right? Impressing a chef with cooking is like impressing a penguin with snow.”

“I’m aware. I overestimated myself.”

I shook my head, trying not to smile. “You’re lucky you’re charming.”