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“You drive like a cabbie,” I say, admiring the side profile of his face and the way he drives with one hand.
His arms are strong, like the rest of him. In the glow of the passing city lights, the veins swell underneath his skin. I resist the urge to run my finger along one. I resist the temptation to ask him about the blood on his face, too. The splatters of it that stain his white t-shirt. No one even mentioned it at dinner. Carine had seen it earlier. Maybe his grandma, too. But Michele hadn’t. He didn’t even look twice at it.
He nods. “My uncle drives one. He taught me how to drive.”
“Not your dad?”
He makes a noise like his dad made earlier. A grunt that seems to say so much, but I’m not sure what it means yet.
“I told you about my mom,” I say, like fair is fair.
He says nothing, but his hand squeezes the wheel. The short sleeve on his shirt strains with it. It hugs his chest but is loose around his waist.
“Ooo-kay.” I take a deep breath and say nothing else. He owes me nothing. I told him that on my own. And I know how hard it is to talk about things like that. Even if he refuses to admit it, there’s a story between him and Michele. Just because a parent doesn’t leave, it doesn’t mean there can’t be hurt there, too.
Sonny comes to mind. I grunt, just like Lilo had.
He gives me a side-eye glance, but he turns it too fast for me to meet it.
He clears his throat a few blocks from my house. “That meal won’t last you longer than tonight.”
“It’ll last me a month,” I say, not sure if I mean it literally or not. I want to unbuckle my jeans because my stomach is hurting. It feels like a balloon filled with too much air. I don’t throw up my food or anything like that after I eat, but all the richness has me craving some alone time in the bathroom.
The thought makes me feel hot. I hope he can’t read my mind. If he can, I will die from embarrassment. I usually don’t care about people or what they think of me. But him? He has all my cares, even if I’m not sure why.
He says nothing else until we turn down my street. He asks which house is mine. I point and he pulls up to the curb. I’m not sure what to say, except for thanks for the food and for the ride, and I reach for the handle. His arm moves like a strike of lightning in the darkness and snatches my shirt.
I gasp, not expecting it. Not expecting the power of him. It really has nothing to do with his actual strength, but what he does to me when he touches me. When his skin touches mine…it might go beyond euphoria and straight into a heart attack. I’m thankful there’s a thin shirt between me and him.
When I turn my face, his is so close to mine, I inhale from the proximity. I breathe him in without meaning to. I’m wondering if this is how it starts with addicts. That very moment when they take the first hit and become dependent. Become sick without the euphoria rushing through their veins.
He still has my shirt in his grip. Our faces are still a kiss apart. His eyes glisten. He licks his lips. My body is turned awkwardly, so is my heart, but I’m still breathing him in. I refuse to move. Anticipating the hit. So afraid of it but so ready for it.
“You’ll eat,” he says, his voice rough.
“You don’t even know me,” I say, my eyes at odds with the mood. They feel frantic. Pinging up and down. I can’t decide whether to meet his stare or try to bite his lip.
“I know you,” he says. “I know everything about you.”
“How?” I say dumbly. Because I’m lost. So lost.
“Your singing,” he says, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You let me inside.”
“I had no clue you were there.”
“You realize who you let in?”
I don’t understand. Who I let in?
“Who?”
“Darkness,” he says.
Then he releases his hold, but he doesn’t put space between us. He leans over me, brushing my breast with his arm, and opens my door. He pushes it out, and it rocks before it stills. I sit for a second, wanting to say something but not sure what. I step out when my stomach makes an angry noise.
By the time I get halfway to my door, he’s standing outside of the truck, watching me. I’m almost running, but he stops me.
“You scared of me now?”
