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I finish slathering on the peanut butter, and his finger slides his plate along the counter and out of my vision. My eyes follow the finger, the veins in his forearm, and every stroke of lucky ink right up to his emerald eyes.
“Go on then.”
“How big is your family?” He takes a bite of toast as if it’s a casual question. It is. But I don’t always like talking about my family.
“Just my sister and my mom.” I take a bite, too.
He swallows. “You’re as good at answering questions as I am.”
“Not much more to say than that.”
“Your mom must miss you. Both her daughters being gone for years?”
“Is that your second question?” I challenge, hoping he’ll drop it.
He swallows and narrows his eyes coyly. “Let me rephrase because I don’t want to know what yourmomthinks. I want to know whatyouthink. Do you miss your mom?”
How did I not see a question like this coming? In a family like the Hunters? One so tight-knit that they think about each other all the goddamn time? It’s more complicated than that for me.
“I won’t judge you if the answer is no,” he says, low and inviting.
“I just don’t think the answer is the kind of conversation you might expect from a late-night Q and A. And I’m on a woo-woo journey to being more authentic so I’m all about the straight shooting now.”
“Woo-woo?” His eyebrows do that kind-of-smile thing again.
“Yeah, you know, new age, personal development, green smoothies, and yoga kind of thing. I’m trying to be more comfortable in my own skin so I’d rather not answer than lie.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Try me, Sunshine. You think I don’t want to hear what you have to say, but I’m more intrigued than ever now. Did you use this tell, don’t tell with Colt to intrigue him, too?”
I narrow my eyes at his low blow but I can see he’s not serious. He’s teasing. And I like it. “Fine. You want to hear it? My mom has, for however long I’ve known her, been addicted to painkillers, and it wasn’t exactly anormalchildhood. So, of course, I miss her. She loves me and gives me insane amounts of affection when she’s lucid. She is sweet, kind, and… she’s been working on recovery for over six months now.”
I throw my hands in the air.Fuck it.Might as well let it all hang loose. It’s not like Dash will be telling everyone my business. “But I don’t miss lying to the pharmacist or the landlord for her. So missing her isn’t really a yes-or-no answer. We’ll see what she’s like when she moves here. It might be like meeting her for the first time. Or like having the part of her I do miss.” I take a bite of my toast, surprised by the sting that creeps to the back of my eyes at the sound of my own voice, actually confessing this feeling.
I’ve never really told anybody that taking care of my mom’s addiction got me down. I usually kept it to myself. I didn’t want to bog her or my sister or anyone I’ve ever met down with that shit.
I quickly chew another bite of toast and swallow. “My turn again.”
Dash seems to have abandoned his late-night snack. He traces a finger along his lower lip slowly, back and forth, concentrating and staring at me with deep, thoughtful jade eyes, like he listening real good and he’s not sure what to do with what I just said. But he sure as hell isn’t ready to move on from it and he’s trying to figure out what it means about me.
I don’t want him feeling sorry for me, though that’s not exactly what I see in his gaze. His eyes are intense, and the silence is making me nervous.
“So…” I want to learn more about him. And I need this buffer question to get my own head straight. I’m not sure if my question will lighten the mood, but it’s meant to. “When was the last time you smiled?”
Just when I think he’ll have to dig deep, like the man’s face will crack when it happens, he answers immediately. “Yesterday. With my niece, Eve.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“Because you don’t believe it or because you want to see me smile?” he deadpans.
Is he flirting, being sarcastic, or simply asking because he doesn’t know? The neutral look on his face gives nothing away, but he is standing so damn close now my cheeks are heating up.
“Is that your last question?” I ask, not even knowing what I’ll answer anyway.
If he’s flirting, I kind of want to flirt back, even though I know it’s just that stupid idiotic part of me that always chases the unattainable. If he’s not flirting… he’ll never exchange questions with me again. This is probably a one-off anyway. We’re both emotional about Romeo and probably both deliriously tired from such a big day…
“Yes, Sunshine.” He tilts his head, and damn is he cute like that. “It’s my last question. Do you not believe I smile, or do you want to see me smile?”
I let out a breath and shake my head. “What can I say, Dash? I’m a nurturer. I like seeing people smile. So…” I cross my arms in hopes of slowing down my racing heart. “I want to see you smile.”
