Page 36 of All the Ugly Things
“You can try it.” I pushed it toward her, but she grabbed her water and cupped it in her hands.
“No.”
“You don’t drink?”
There was a sharp edge to her tone as she said, “Did you forget where you saw me tonight?” Quieter and with less force she whispered, “It’s a condition of my parole.”
Oh shit. I was such an ass. I’d totally forgotten and based on the look in her eyes, she definitely didn’t enjoy talking about it. Not that I could blame her. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t. “I’ll have them take it back.”
“No. Don’t.”
“If it’s tempting—”
“It’s not.” She exhaled and shook her head. I’d already told her we knew she was in prison, but she didn’t know how or how much we knew about how she ended up there. Still, I watched her battle her words, her decisions, before she said, “I’m not an alcoholic. I’ve just never had wine. But I can’t, so…” She shrugged, sipped her water and focused on the server carting out a three-level stand.
She wanted to try it.
Questions pummeled me. The desire to really understand her. To know everything and yet I couldn’t. She’d run.
She surprised the hell out of me by saying, “I looked you up online.”
“Yeah?” Talking about myself and my family’s business usually made me relax. I didn’t want to talk about me. I knew all about me. I wanted to know all about her instead. Every hidden thought she’d tucked away in crevices long ago.
“You and your dad do a lot of good work.”
“We try.” I sipped my wine. The alcohol dried my throat as it slid down.
“And you seem like you both are too busy to stalk and torment someone like me.”
Like me.It was the second time she’d said that phrase to me. A red hue tinged my vision that she thought of herself as someoneless than.
She was so much more. She’d survived hell and was still fighting.
“I’ve already told you Dad liked you. He has a gift for seeing the good in people. I would think that would make you feel good.”
“I don’t trust easily.”
She paused, like she wanted to say more and then closed her mouth. What was shenotsaying?
“What are you not asking, Lilly?”
The first tray of desserts arrived, breaking her concentration and lifting her furrowed brows until they arched and her eyes lit with muted excitement.
Only her eyes though. It was as though she’d gone so long without smiling, her facial muscles atrophied.
I waited until she’d reached for a cupcake and held it in front of her. She unpeeled the paper like a dance, taking her time, savoring every moment. She lured me in with her soft expression and gentle moan of pleasure when she took her first bite.
“It’s cherry-filled,” she said, closing her eyes. Her lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks and she licked her lips. “I almost want to take a bite of every single one to figure out which one’s my favorite.”
“Have it your way.” I gestured toward the second tray arriving. The servers, young girls both, giggled at my statement.
“We’ll be right out with the last one. Is there anything else we can get for you?”
“Water for me, please, and a refill for her.”
