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“He’s going to get us kicked out of this restaurant too,” my dad said, but he was smiling. He turned to me. “I like him, baby girl.”

I smiled.

“Told you that you would,” RJ said.

Adonis walked back out and placed a new piece of cake on the table. The caramel was now to the side. “All fixed.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t get kicked out of the kitchen,” I said.

He shrugged. “The guys back there seemed nice.”

I laughed and shook my head.

“But really,” Adonis said. “Does this work?” He lifted a fork.

“It’s perfect,” I said. But I wasn’t talking about the cake. I was talking about him. My parents loved each other more than anyone I knew. And even my dad couldn’t order for my mom.

Chapter 35 – That Was A Monday Present

Saturday – Valentine’s Day

I exhaled and I swore I heard the sound echo around me. “This is where you live?” I felt like I’d just walked into some kind of weird modern museum. A big, empty museum.

“Yup,” Adonis said. “Home sweet home.”

The huge foyer was warmer than outside, but still cold. There were no family pictures lining the walls like when you walked into my home.

It would be easy to feel lonely in a house like this. “Interesting,” I said and my voice echoed.

Adonis laughed. “Interesting?”

“It’s just so...” I pressed my lips together. I didn’t really know what to say.

He smiled. “It’s terrible, I know. It’s like living in a mausoleum.”

“Right? Seriously, why aren’t there any pictures anywhere? Or any decorations at all?”

“My mom had decorated. When she left, my dad got someone to take it all down. And he never got around to choosing anything to replace it. I’d give you a tour, but there’s really nothing to see.”

“But I want a tour.” Wasn’t that the whole reason he’d brought me to his house?

“There’s really nothing to show you.”

I laughed. “Then why did you bring me here?”

“Because my bedroom is here.” He lifted me up in his arms and I laughed.

He walked over to one side of the split staircase and carried me upstairs. He skipped a few doorways until he reached one partially ajar. He kicked it the rest of the way open with his foot.

This seemed much more him. It was still very modern, but there was nothing empty about his bedroom. It was as messy as his car. Clothes were strewn on the floor and there was an empty pizza box on his desk. The bed wasn’t made, but I rarely made my bed either.

He set me down and I wandered over to the wood paneled wall that accented the wall behind his huge bed. The wall was painted black, but it was covered in pictures. And every picture he was in with different people.

“You have a lot of friends,” I said.

He shrugged. “Comes from going to so many schools.”

“How many schools have you been kicked out of exactly?”