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I grab spoons and set them down before I sit on the stool beside her. We’re close, only a foot apart. And it feels too close, too awkward, so I scoot over to the third barstool and slide my food over.
She lifts her spoon and hesitates before blowing on the soup in front of her.
I grab one of the fresh rolls and dunk it in my peanut sauce and then grab the remote and switch the TV over from the Xbox to television. It’s a sitcom I’ve never seen, but something with a laugh track feels like a good idea. Haven’t heard laughing in a while. I set the remote down and continue eating.
The food is good. Very good, actually.
“Good call on this food. This is what my belly needs,” I say.
I’ll definitely want to order from this place again. I look over, about to ask her where it’s from, about to say something, make some sort of conversation, but she’s sitting rigidly, staring at her still-steaming bowl.
She must catch me looking because she finally speaks.
“Sorry about the meltdown. I had a really hard day and that was just… the straw I guess.”
“I get it,” I say. “I had a day like that the day we met.”
“I was the straw,” she says softly.
“Something like that.”
“Yeah,” she says quietly.
And I find I want to hear more of her voice in that tone, that soft tone instead of the angry, sassy one she’s mostly been giving me, the tone I’ve bought myself with how I’ve been with her.
I sigh.
I feel like an asshole. But I also feel like it’s a good idea to keep my distance.
Because this girl is just the kind of girl I would go for – especially when she’s like this. Quiet, A little shy. She’s pretty. Rockin’ body, but she’s wholesome-looking. Great skin, shiny hair, and she smells good. Plus there’s something about her eyes that’s disarming.
And I don’t need that right now.
For one, I’ve got a steaming shit pile on my plate.
For two, I don’t even live in this city. I’ll be back in California as soon as humanly possible and I already know what it’s like thinking you’re gonna start something with a girl that lives somewhere else.
And besides, Jada’s not likely to forgive me for the way I’ve been acting anyway, even if I did try to change the nature of our relationship, which I have zero plans to do.
I decide I’ll eat the rest of my food later, so I can end this awkward meal.
“I’m full. Thanks for grabbing that.” I stand up.
“You’re welcome,” she whispers. “Thanks for sharing yours with me when I spilled mine.”
“I’ll clean up so you can rest your sore foot.”
“My foot’s fine, Austin,” she says softly, still not looking at me. “It doesn’t hurt that much. I can clean up.”
“All right.”
And I want to ask her what happened today. Because it looks like she could use an ear.
But I don’t bother. It’s not a good idea to spend any more time around this girl than necessary. I don’t need her story, no more than I already have. I don’t need her soft voice in my ear making me want to get closer, making me want to hear more of it, making me want to solve any problems she has.
I’m ready to head to the bedroom so she can eat in peace, but the phone on the wall by the door rings. The intercom.
Why would that be ringing?
Not Sienna.
I pick up.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Carmichael? This is Andrew, in the lobby. Your sister is here for you.”
“Does she have red hair?”
“No. Dark hair. An infant wearing a monkey hat and a little boy with her.”
I hear a little voice.
“A little boy wearing a dinosaur hat,” he amends.
Obviously, Braeden isn’t about to be upstaged by a monkey hat.
“Oh. Send her up,” I say. “Thanks.”
Adele.
I look at Jada who’s still got most of her meal to finish.
“You have company coming? I’ll just…” She swivels, about to get off the stool.
“No, don’t worry. Eat. It’s just my sister.” I wave and open the door and stare out into the hallway.
I wait there until Adele gets off the elevator, the baby in a carrier on her front and a giant wheeled suitcase in one hand, Braeden holding onto her other hand. She gives me a huge smile.
A security guy is behind her, carrying a fold-up stroller and Adele’s diaper bag.
My big sister is a sight for sore eyes.
Braeden squeals and runs for me. “Unco Auz!” I squat and catch him.
He’s three and this little guy means everything to me. Seeing him, smelling the hair on his head, I already feel a little more like myself.
My sister gets to me. “Surprise! I’m here for two days only. Just enough time to try to cheer up my baby brother.” She wraps her free arm around me, and I kiss her forehead, unable to hug her properly with the baby against her chest.
