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This woman.
She undoes me with just a word, a look.
I shake my head, my voice rougher as I say, “No. Not just talk, but there are…things.”
She nods. “Things. Huh. Sounds serious.”
My lips curve despite the pain I know is coming. For both of us. “Yeah. It is.”
“Tell me more about these things.”
I weigh my options. Best case scenario, I’ve misunderstood this whole thing and she and Adrian are just friends. Worst case, she’s been intimate with my son and is going to be as shocked and upset about that as I am.
Either way, this isn’t a conversation to have in an alley.
“You want to grab some diner food?” I ask. “I know a place a few blocks away. We could have pancakes or scrambles and—”
“Yes. Just let me text my friend Noelle and tell her I’m leaving,” she says, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes me want to kiss her.
But I can’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.
But at least I get to talk to her, and considering what we have to talk about, the fact that I’m still excited about that says something.
I’m not sure what, but…definitely something.
fourteen
SYDNEY
“You call this a diner?” I mutter beneath my breath as we follow the hostess to a corner booth in what may be the cutest restaurant I’ve ever seen.
Gideon glances my way. “They serve pancakes.”
“They’re also serving adorable,” I say, glancing around. “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
Tucked away on a side street in Alphabet City, Why Not Pie is decorated like the interior of a Bavarian cottage. Dark exposed timber stands out against the cream-colored walls, vintage ads in bright colors serve as wallpaper, and the wooden booths are filled with needlepoint pillows.
Once we’re seated, I pluck a pillow from beside me and hold it up for Gideon’s inspection. “It’s a T-Rex. In a teacup. Therefore, a Tea Rex. Color me delighted.”
He grins. “Pretty punny.”
“My favorite.” I set it beside me and pat the dapper T-Rex on the head before turning back to Gideon. Anxiety prickles across my skin at the tension still clear on his face. “Should we order? Or should you tell me whatever you’re going to tell me first? If it’s bad enough, I might have to leave, and I don’t want to order and dash.”
“You can dash whenever you want,” he says. “This is on me. I’ll stay and cover the bill.”
My stomach cramps. “That wasn’t comforting.”
He sighs and opens his menu. “The lemon souffle pancakes are my favorite, but the scrambles are excellent, as well. And the pie. I’m not much of a pie person, but if you are, they’re top-notch.”
“I had tacos at the party, so I think I’ll try the pancakes. I’m up for sharing some if you’re not super hungry.”
He sighs again. “I can’t tell if I’m hungry. My stomach is in knots.”
“Same,” I say, nibbling on my bottom lip. “We should share.”
He glances up, holding my gaze as he murmurs, “Sounds good.”
But it doesn’t. Nothing sounds good right now. I just want to know what’s going on. Being in the dark is killing me.
