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“Emilia,” Christopher finishes the sentence for her. Now I’m just pissed at both of them.

“I don’t need to be talked into anything. I’m this close”—I hold my thumb and forefinger close to each other in demonstration—“to jumping her bones in that training room. If anything, I need the two of you to hold me back.”

“Oooookay,” Alice says. “Clearly, someone’s bottled up too much sexual tension.” Looking at Christopher, she tells him, “I bet he lasts two more sessions before he lashes out at poor Emilia.”

Christopher taps his finger on his bottle. “One session. Actually, I bet he won’t make it through breakfast tomorrow.”

Alice frowns as if considering her words. “No bet.”

Fucking fantastic.

Chapter Ten

Emilia

On Saturday morning Grams is in a good mood, and remarkably present. I’m leavi

ng in one hour to meet Max for breakfast, and I’m nowhere near ready. Right now I’m sitting with Grams on the couch on the back porch. I’m braiding her hair in an elegant bun. She’s always happier when her hair looks beautiful.

“I’ve been thinking about your father,” she says out of the blue when I’m halfway done. My fingers freeze in her silver hair. Good thing we’re sitting, because my knees have turned to Jell-O. Grams hasn’t mentioned my father by name or referred to him at all since he left. Exactly one year after, she rounded up all the pictures she had of him and burned them.

“You have?” I ask quietly. “Why?”

“I was wondering what became of him.”

Pressing my lips together, I continue to work on her hair, which proves to be a challenge because my hands turned sweaty all of a sudden. I am one hundred percent sure nothing became of him.

“I’d like to see him again,” she continues, her words shocking me to the bone, even more so because at this moment Grams is herself, not in the clutches of her disease. An age-old pain washes over me, reminding me that some wounds don’t heal with time.

“He left us, Grams.” My voice is strong, and I’m proud. “I don’t—”

“I know, child. But you and I both know I’m not going to be myself much longer. You think I don’t know I lose my mind at least once a day?”

“You’re not losing your mind,” I say with a shaky voice. Damn it. She needs reassurance right now, not for me to break down. At least she sits with her back to me, so she can’t see my eyes, which are burning.

“I’d like to see him once before it’s too late. Call me soft, but he’s my son. Blood is blood. Promise you’ll think about it?”

“Promise.” You don’t say no to the woman who worked herself to exhaustion to raise you. With trembling fingers, I finish her hairdo, then go about preparing for my outing.

I spend a long time in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear, which is ridiculous. This is not a date; it’s just two friends going out. We did this hundreds of times when we were kids, I tell myself. Yeah, but that was before we both developed a flirting muscle. I end up choosing a knee-length, blue dress with a rather deep V-neckline, but what the hell. I also straighten my wild mane until not one hair sticks in the wrong direction.

Mrs. Wilson, the elderly neighbor who agreed to watch Grams while I’m out, arrives just in time. She’s a lovely woman, and she’s Grams’s best friend. My grandmother doesn’t have any living relatives with the exception of my father and me, but Mrs. Wilson is as close as family. Since Ms. Adams, Grams’s caretaker, only watches Grams on weekdays, Mrs. Wilson kindly offered to help me out in the evenings or weekends when I need a break. I don’t often take her up on her offer, but today I did.

Before I leave the house, I grab a jacket. It’s mid-March, but it’s not too warm. Grinning at the sky, I take a deep breath, climbing in my car.

When I’m a few blocks away from my destination, my engine begins coughing, and I know I’m in for trouble. I pull over, cursing, and call the tow service, and then I text Max.

Emilia: My car just broke down. I’ll head to the restaurant as soon as the tow service is here.

Max: I’ll pick you up.

Emilia: No need. I’ll walk. It’s just a few blocks.

After the tow service takes away my car I head to the restaurant, and by the time I reach the gate, I’m feeling blisters in the making on the balls of my feet. I have a love-hate relationship with high heels, and right now, it leans pretty heavily on the hate side.

“Well you look amazing,” Max’s voice resounds from behind me. I swirl around, facing him. He takes a step back, whistling loudly, scrutinizing me from head to toe, his eyes revealing that he’s entertaining dangerous thoughts. Just as I am. He’s quite the looker, wearing simple jeans and a black polo shirt, which showcases his upper body. Those strong arms and shoulders are my kryptonite.

“I’ll have to work hard to fend off any suitors today, Emilia. You look absolutely stunning.” Leaning in to me, he adds, “I’ll have to work even harder to keep myself from doing any eye training.”

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