Until Alex - J. Nathan Page 0,70
head. “Maybe I don’t want to eat alone.”
I cocked my own. “Maybe I have a hot date.”
“Well, he’s gonna have to wait ‘til I’m finished with my meal.” He arched a brow.
Damn him.
No matter what he’d done, that intangible pull still existed between us.
Sure, it took a week for my hard feelings to ease, but they had. Somewhat. I mean, he lived across the hall. I couldn’t avoid him forever.
Okay. So I’d be lying if I said the story about his past didn’t sway my decision to try to forgive him. It absolutely did. Who could stay mad at someone who’d seen what he’d seen? I didn’t see my parents die. I couldn’t imagine the pain and nightmares accompanying that memory.
I blew out a breath and entered his apartment. My eyes took in the rumpled blanket on the sofa and the unlabeled prescription bottles littering the coffee table. “So what’s the diagnosis?”
He closed the door behind me. “Besides being an asshole?”
I smiled. “That should’ve been my line.”
“Beat you to it,” he grinned, like we hadn’t been avoiding each other for the past week. Then he sat down, like an old man trying not to pull a muscle “I’ve got a few broken ribs.”
I walked into the kitchen, searching cabinets and drawers for a bowl and spoon. “That sucks.”
“Yup.” Of course he didn’t elaborate. That would’ve been asking too much.
Unable to find a ladle, I poured the soup from the container into a bowl, trying not to spill any on his countertop. I carried it out and placed it into his awaiting hands.
“Secret recipe?” he asked as he lifted the spoon to his lips.
I shook my head. “No, mine would’ve contained cyanide. It’s my mom’s.”
Despite the threat, Hayden smiled and tipped the spoonful into his mouth.
I dropped onto the opposite corner of the sofa, the same place I’d sat the first night I’d been to his apartment.
After he found me unconscious by the pool.
After he brought me to the hospital.
After he stayed by my bedside all night.
After he asked me to stay with him so he could keep an eye on me.
Yeah. No matter what he’d done since then, I couldn’t forget he cared for me when no one else had. He looked after me. He rescued me.
When had anyone rescued him?
That’s why I brought his homework and the soup. Not because I was a pushover. A doormat. A glutton for punishment. But because he needed me. Whether he realized it or not.
“It’s really good,” he said. “She must’ve been a great cook.”
I hadn’t purposely conjured up memories of my mother in a while. Sure, memories of her flooded me on a daily basis, but they were uninvited flashes of moments I hadn’t expected.
Now Hayden wanted me to recall a specific detail. Something that made her special. Something I’d have to learn to live without.
The backs of my eyes prickled. All at once, a rush of memories flooded me. Her in the kitchen. Her hips swaying to music while she cooked. The spicy pasta sauce bubbling on the stove each Sunday. The freshly baked dinner rolls accompanying every meal. The sweet apple pies sitting on the windowsill. “Yeah. She was.”
“What was her best dish?”
I crossed my arms, settling back into the black leather. “Why are you doing this?”
His brows squished together. “Doing what?”
“Bringing up my mom? You know it’s hard for me to talk about her.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Just because she’s gone, doesn’t mean you need to forget her.”
He was absolutely right. But I couldn’t help wondering if he was really talking about himself. “Chicken parmesan.”
He grinned as he downed another spoonful. “I’d be up for trying that next.”
“Next? Who said you’re getting anything else?” I was trying to remain sassy or aloof, or maybe both. But the odds were in his favor I’d cave and cook it for him.
Hayden’s eyes held mine for a long moment. Like he wanted to say something important. Something long overdue. “How are rehearsals going?”
Classic Hayden. Change the subject when things turned too serious. “Okay. Taylor’s still waiting in the shadows for someone to quit or get sick.”
“She sucks.”
I nodded.
“When’s the show?”
My head withdrew. “You’re not planning on coming, are you?”
“Never know.”
“I won’t hold my breath,” I murmured, finding it difficult to curb my resentment, no matter how hard I tried.
Discomfort flashed in Hayden’s eyes before they shot down to his soup. “Just so you know, I had every intention of—”
“Please.” I lifted my palm. “I didn’t come here to rehash the past.”
His brows