Chapter 7 Then #2
I clasp his hand and squeeze. Alex stares down at my hand wrapped around his, and suddenly I’m self-conscious.
It was an instinct, to reach out and comfort him the way I love to be comforted, but maybe Alex isn’t a physical-touch kind of guy.
Maybe his love language is words of affirmation or gifts or acts of service.
I start to pull my hand away, but Alex turns his hand quickly and catches mine inside his, squeezing back. Even harder than I did.
His eyes meet mine as his thumb brushes my palm. It’s only a small tenderness, yet heat bolts through me.
For a moment in Luna’s kitchen, eyes locked with Alex as he held her hand, Thea felt a sun-warm wash of comfort sink through her skin, her bones, seeping deeper, until it settled in her heart, a glowing ember.
She felt cared for. She felt desire. She felt hopeful.
Maybe one day feelings like these wouldn’t merely drift by but endure.
Maybe one day she’d only feel battle-scarred, not indelibly broken.
Maybe one day she wouldn’t only hold hands with a kind, handsome man who made her laugh and made her feel safe—
Alex squeezes my hand again, wrenching me back to reality, before he lets go. He clears his throat as he scoops up another spoonful of gelato, then says, “How’s your six-flavor combo?”
“So good.” I shove a heap of gelato into my mouth, hoping it’ll cool me down. “Yours?”
“Yep, it’s good.” He pokes around his bowl, then peers my way.
His gaze lingers long enough that I pause, spoon hovering in front of my mouth. “What is it?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Been thinking about what you said the other night, you know, after we—”
“Told a huge vengeful fib to our exes?”
“That, yep.” He clears his throat again. “I felt bad, after you left.”
“Why?”
“Because you paid me a really nice compliment,” he says, “and I was so caught up in my shitty feelings, I didn’t do the same.”
“Oh.” I shrug. “I didn’t expect you to.”
Alex leans in. “That’s not how this friendship is going to go, Ted. You hyped me up. I should have hyped you up, too. So now I’m going to do that.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”
“You’re beautiful.” His gaze locks with mine. “And I’ve only known you a few hours, but I already know that you are a truly good person.”
My cheeks are burning. “Um. Thank you,” I say hoarsely. “That was profoundly inaccurate, but it’s still a very generous compliment.”
“Ted.” He knocks his knee with mine. I peer up, and he holds my eyes. “Trust me. It’s accurate.”
Argos whines outside the door again. Alex tears his gaze away and stands, nodding toward the kitchen door. “Come on. Let’s go check on the pea-brain.”
Argos is much happier, now that we’re together and it isn’t in a sweltering third-floor apartment.
He’s on his stomach, chin resting on my feet, while Alex and I sit side by side on orange crates behind the restaurant’s kitchen.
Heads tipped back, we take in the cloudless night sky, a black plum speckled with sugar.
“So,” I say, “Pittsburgh does have stars.”
A faint laugh leaves Alex. “Sometimes.”
“Didn’t see it coming. When you picked me up, the sky looked like someone had thrown it a mean right hook.”
He nods. “Yeah it was pretty rough. Which felt fitting.”
Quiet settles between us. I glance over at him and ask, “Do you like to read?”
“Yep. Audiobooks are my jam. Why?”
I stare up at the stars again. “Moments like this… they feel like what I love most about books. These little reminders that we aren’t alone.”
Alex lets out a soft hmm. “You mean the stars showing up?”
“Yes. And us, too, showing up for each other. It… helps.”
Alex glances my way. “Yeah, it does help.”
“It’ll get better, right?” I ask. “We won’t always feel this messed up?”
A heavy sigh leaves him. “Honestly, Ted, a few days ago, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. But”—he nudges my shoulder with his—“feeling a bit more optimistic, now.”
Warmth blooms through me. I nudge him back.
Alex peers down, deeply focused on his gelato. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what? Eating your delicious food? Gorging my way through thirty dollars’ worth of your family’s gelato without paying?”
He throws me a wry smile. “For listening. Being kind. Hoovering my cold lasagna like it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten.”
“It is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” I pinch his elbow. “I did not hoover it, though.”
“You did,” he says. His smile turns wider. “Trust me, it’s a compliment. Nothing strokes a cook’s ego like watching someone tear through the food they’ve made.”
“Well, then, please know I’ll be happy to stroke it any time.”
Once I say it, I realize how suggestive that sounds.
Alex pokes his tongue against his cheek. He’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“You knew what I meant!” I shove his shoulder with mine. “Stop being juvenile.”
“This coming from the woman who said earlier, ‘sucks donkey dong.’ ”
A laugh jumps out of me. “True. But divorce deserved it.”
His laugh is delightfully unexpected. Loud and deep, it echoes in the alley, melding with mine.
Alex stares at me, a crooked smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t laughed like that in fucking months.”
“Me, neither,” I say quietly.
I stare back at him, as the soft breeze rustles his hair and wafts my way a faint spice, a hint of citrus. I think it’s his scent. And I think I like it.
I think I like him.
Argos whines from his mopey perch at my feet, his gaze fixed on Alex.
Sighing, Alex glances toward Argos and unearths a spoon from his back pocket. “Don’t worry, pea-brain. I came prepared.”
I watch Alex scoop a mound of vanilla gelato from his bowl and offer it to my dog, holding the spoon patiently while Argos licks it clean.
That’s when it all begins, the first time it whispers through my thoughts.
I love him.
I wish I could say it was the last.