Love Him Free (On the Market #1) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,83
a bit. “He’s good at that.”
Simon couldn’t help his smile as he watched the girl copy him until she had it right. “Yes, he is.”
“You come back and show me what you remember, and you can have more cookies,” Rocco told her as they finished.
Melody’s cheeks were puffy, crumbs on her lips, and she signed, ‘Thank you,’ before her mom took her hand and they wandered off.
Simon stepped back as Rocco eased back into the booth, and this time he didn’t feel worry as Rocco stepped in close. ‘You’re cute when you’re teaching little kids.’
Rocco rolled his eyes, but he put one hand at Simon’s waist and dug his fingers in. ‘You’re cute all the time.’ He brushed a kiss over his lips, then turned back to rearrange the cookies as another customer approached, and Simon got back to work.
By seven, Simon’s stomach was growling and the last thing in the world he wanted was something that came out of the Chametz kitchen. He was entirely sold out of the beer and chocolate sufganiyot, and only had two left of the raspberry. Their cookie supply had dwindled down to almost nothing, and the sign booth had shut down when Rocco had given the very last one to Melody who returned to show him she had remembered everything he taught her.
‘Food?’ Rocco asked.
Simon nodded. ‘Yes, please. Something with greens though. No more junk.’
Rocco chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. ‘Be back soon. I’ll find something good for us.’
‘Thank you,’ Simon told him, then leaned on the counter as he watched Rocco bob and weave through the slowly dwindling crowd. He checked through his wares one last time, then the cash box which was over-flowing. It wasn’t enough—it would never be enough to make up for the hole he was in, but it was something. Rocco had already sent the first five videos off to his friend for editing, and they’d be back this week for the pair of them to watch and approve.
Then…then the first one would be posted.
Simon had reluctantly signed the contract accepting sole rights over the content. He’d added in his bank account, he’d accepted all terms and conditions, and had tentatively agreed to a trip at some point in the future to visit Rocco’s lawyer to sign a better contract that would protect him from what Rocco’s ex-agent might do.
But for now, Rocco assured him it would be fine. After all, Xander owned Sylent, not Rocco.
‘Rocco is for you,’ his lover assured him late Wednesday night after their hearts began to beat slower, and their heavy breathing began to ease. ‘He can’t have the piece of me that’s here with you.’
It was almost I love you—it was something more than just I like you, at least. Simon had been on the verge of confession then. He was deliciously sore and sated in more ways than he could have dreamed. And he was…he was happy. He was romanced. He was content. The more he got to know Rocco, the deeper he fell.
There was no glass shattering with him.
Simon startled when someone cleared their throat, and he turned to see Levi and Fitz standing at the edge of the table, Levi’s face settled into a smirk. Simon knew he’d been caught, but he didn’t much care anymore.
“You know, until right at this moment, I thought Fitz was a fucking liar,” Levi said. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”
Simon bit his lip and decided whether or not he’d take it personally. He earned the hurt, he knew, but Levi’s tone was a soft mocking—the way brothers should be. He reached under the counter and pulled out the paper bag he’d been saving. “I tried a new recipe.”
Levi stared, then he bent down and pressed his hand to the grass before standing back up. At Simon’s frown, Levi shrugged. “Just checking to see if hell freezing over made it to earth yet.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but he shoved the bag at Levi. “You can eat it later and text me about how much you hate it.”
Of course, Simon’s slight plea was ignored. Levi was a man of little patience—just like he’d been as a boy. He was the kind of kid who tore wrapping paper to shreds, who ripped tape off boxes, who never understood the meaning of wait. That same enthusiasm had him reaching into the bag and biting into the sufganiyah hard enough to send part of the custard oozing out over his hand.