Page 100 of Golden Ruin

I feel something in my chest when I realize what that look on her face means.

She’s proud of me.

She was at my side during college, attended all my games, wore my jersey and shouted so loud I heard her over everyone. So, if someone gets to feel pride listening to me ramble about my packed itinerary, it’s her.

“Thanks.”

I could say more, but don’t. Partly because I don’t feel like talking about myself after spending the last four days doing exactly that. But the real reason I’m quieter now is because I’m starving.

The first bite makes it hard to think about anything else. She’s always been a great cook, but everything tastes especially good tonight. Maybe because I’ve spent the last few days eating overpriced gourmet bullshit on too-small plates with more decoration than flavor. But I honestly think it has more to do with knowing the time and effort that went into making this just for me.

“How is it?”

I glance up from my plate just long enough to nod. “Fantastic.”

That draws a smile out of her as she leans over the counter, tapping her nails against the granite.

I arch a brow at her once I finish chewing. “You’re not eating?”

There goes that look again. The look that has me thinking something’s not quite right with her.

She shakes her head. “Not really hungry.”

I don’t rapid fire questions because I’ve known her long enough to know that makes her feel cornered. So, I pace myself, take a couple more bites, sip my drink.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

She taps the countertop louder, but the fake smile she flashes doesn’t fool me. “Nope, all good,” she lies, so I give my strategy another try. I eat a little more, sip a little more, then slip in with another question.

“So, we’re lying to each other now?”

This time when she smiles, it’s real. “Stop. You don’t want to hear my petty shit when you just got into town. I’m okay. Really.”

I bite into my breadstick, keeping my stare trained on hers. “We both know that’s not true. Not the part about me not wanting to hear it. Not the part about you being okay,” I tell her. “Talk to me.”

She’s quiet again, still trying to hold it all in, but then she decides to let me in. “It’s about Amelia.”

After admitting it, she lets that breathe, and I already know whatever’s bothering her about her sister is far from petty.

“We finally talked. When I dropped Jax off,” she adds. “It only happened because Mom and Benny butted in, of course, but… she apologized.”

I nod, setting my fork aside to focus on her. “And how’d that go?”

Lexi notices what I’ve done, pushed my plate forward to lean on the counter while I listen, and she loses her train of thought.

“Please. Don’t stop eating. I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner with this. I’m okay,” she says again, going back to shutting me out like she thinks her stuff is too heavy for me to handle.

“How about this,” I say. “I’ll keep eating if you keep talking.”

Her eyes dance across my face, making me wish I could read her mind, then she smiles a little. “Fine, but the second I see you slowing down, I’m shutting up.”

A quiet laugh leaves her, and I pull my plate to me again.

“Well, she apologized,” she repeats, picking up where she left off. “Benny made it a point to tell me she hardly eats, hardly leaves her room, like that shit matters to me after what she did. The fact remains that I’m not ready to talk to her. If I’m ever ready to talk to her.”

She shakes her head, settling on her elbows, bringing her face close enough to mine that, even with the dim light over the stove being all that’s brightening the space, I see tears glistening in her eyes.

“She said she didn’t know what to do,” Lexi adds. “So, I told her the least she could’ve done was not abandon me.”