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The last words flutter into the air between us, vulnerable and quiet.
“Can I make you food?” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “I mean, are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
She hesitates for a moment; so do I. The pulling need to lead her, like I usually do, wars with the uncertainty of this moment. What are we to each other? How do we interact here, in this daylight vignette of something I’ve never had with her but always wanted?
I take a gamble.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and shower?”
Her cheeks darken. I try not to ruminate on what she’s thinking. “I didn’t bring anything to change into. I don’t even have my—”
“That’s okay, P,” I cut her off gently. “I’ll lay something out for you.”
• • •
I try to give her plenty of time to get into the shower before I creep up and into my room, grabbing for a sweatshirt with a chewed-up sleeve and a pair of sweatpants she’s used before.
Just as I decide to leave them on my bed, rather than invade her space to leave them on the counter, the door opens.
My stomach hollows out at the sight of her in the doorway, towel tucked around her, shoulders bare and skin wet and flushed with the heat from the water. I bang my shin into the metal bedframe, nearly falling as I avert my eyes.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m sorry—I wasn’t—”
“It’s fine, Bennett,” she says. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
It’s meant to be a joke, to get rid of some of the tension. But it only makes my chest ache because it’s not a joke to me. It doesn’t matter if I’ve seen her naked before; her body is hers.
Why is that such a hard concept for her?
I’m terrified to admit that I know the answer. But still, I keep my back turned to her.
“I’m making you breakfast. Pancakes and an omelet. Some fruit and potatoes, too.”
“You don’t have to do all that, Bennett,” she whispers. “But thank you.”
Saying I’ll make you as much as I can because I live in constant fear that you don’t have enough food feels like too much, so I stay quiet. Though I did sneak protein bars and one of the kid’s yogurts she likes into her backpack. Just in case.
“I’ll just wait for you in the kitchen,” I say, leaving and closing my door before she can say anything else.
Chapter 35
NOW
Paloma
Sitting at the countertop feels almost surreal, but not any more than watching Bennett Reiner cook for me once more.
He maneuvers in the kitchen like an art form.
Once I’d asked him if he wanted to be a chef, but he said no. That the environment of most kitchens would be unbearable for his anxiety, but that cooking was a way to say you loved someone without words.
“Words are hard for me,” he’d said, sliding a plate of fancy tartines to me. “It’s easier to show how I feel, I guess.”
I love you. That’s what he’d been trying to say.
“So, are you ready to tell me what happened the night Sadie brought you here? Why you stayed here? Why you haven’t called . . .” His cheeks flush as he plates the pancakes with fruit and sets them in front of me. “If you told me last night, I don’t remember it.” I wait until he’s returned to the counter, looking away from my face before I speak.
