My muscles seized. “Y-you watch me?”
Shit, what had she seen? How bad had I been?
She bit her bottom lip, nodding. “All the time. I can’t stop looking at you.”
Fear crawled down my spine. “If you’ve watched me, why are you still here? Why haven’t you run away screaming yet?”
Her face fell. “You act as if I won’t want to be your friend the more I get to know you.”
“You won’t.”
She sighed softly. “You’re wrong, you know. That can’t ever happen.”
I looked at my plate, unable to hold her stare. I daren’t indulge in the quick kick of hope in my heart. Could she feel a tenth of what I did? Could I keep her, regardless of who I was?
More batter sizzled in the pan as Olin murmured, “You can’t scare me away, you know. I see more than you think. I like watching you, Gilbert Clark, because everything you do is assessed, deliberated, and completed with utmost dedication. You don’t waste energy on things that aren’t important. You’re precise and concentrate harder than anyone I know. And if I’m honest, you’re kind of scary with how focused you are when you put your mind to it.”
“I scare you?” My heart no longer nursed hope but hurt.
“Not anymore. Not now I know you.” She looked at me pointedly. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you, so you might as well get used to having me around.”
“I love having you around.” I froze.
Shit.
She smiled. “I’m glad.”
Our eyes locked again, and goosebumps shot beneath my clothes. I wanted to go to her. To ask if she liked me enough to kiss me. But I lived with whores. Kisses weren’t given willingly most of the time. And I would never, ever take something from Olin that she didn’t want me to have.
Olin looked away first, her voice wobbling a little. “Anyway, tuck in.” She flipped the pancake, expertly landing it in the centre of the pan. A skill that said she’d cooked far more than other kids, from necessity not because of hobbies. “Eat while it’s hot.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Don’t.” Her gaze met mine again, this time not with naked vulnerability but concern and far too much knowing. She knew what food meant to me. She knew more about me than I’d told her because that was who she was, empathetic and intelligent, putting pieces together to make a whole.
I shifted uncomfortably on the stool, wishing I was better for her.
“Please, Gil...eat. I know...I know you don’t get many meals.”
The sugary smell suddenly made me feel sick. “I’m not hungry.” I didn’t know why pride raised its ugly head. Why it made me so short-tempered.
It made me all too aware of how little I had to offer her. Maybe her friendship was charity, after all? She’d do that. She’d be nice enough to hang out with me if she thought I was lonely.
Bullshit. She likes you, Clark. You just have to man up and accept that, instead of looking for ways to sabotage it.
Flipping the pancake one last time, she turned the element off, then selected a plate for herself. Her motions were smooth and dancing-sensual, but her face shadowed with worry.
Bringing her own snack to sit beside me at the breakfast bar, she cut into the fluffy circle and placed a small bit on her tongue.
She chewed for a moment before turning to face me.
I wanted to run. I wanted to tell her she didn’t know me when she obviously did. I needed the pity in her eyes to go away.
Icing sugar dusted her bottom lip as she hesitantly reached across and placed her hand on my thigh.
I stiffened.
My blood heated.
My body hardened.
I squeezed my eyes and fought back a tattered groan.
She didn’t speak for the longest moment. A moment where I struggled not to grab her. A moment where I lived in a fantasy of carrying her upstairs, finding the closest bed, and learning how sweet her tongue was after eating delicious pancakes.
“I know you might hate me for saying this...but I know, Gil.”
I kept my eyes closed, unable to meet her stare.
Her fingers dug deeper into my thigh. “I know you’re beaten at home. I know you don’t eat much. I know you don’t like leaving school. I know—”
My hand landed over hers, squeezing the delicate bones of her fingers. “Stop.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t because if I do, I don’t know if you’ll come back. And I really, really want you to come back.” She didn’t complain as my hand crushed hers. She just continued in her melodic, perfect voice. “You said the first day we talked in the corridor that telling a secret makes us friends. I told you mine, and you’ve become so important to me these past few months. Do you....perhaps...want to share another one with me?”
I struggled to open my eyes and look at her. My heart flew like a wounded bird, crashing against my ribs, breaking a wing, desperate for help but terrified of it at the same time.
I diverted her attention away from my secrets. “Why...why am I important to you?”
She smiled shyly. “Many reasons.”
“Because I walk you home from school?”
“One of them.”
“What are the others?”
With her voice soft, she answered, “You’re important because you look after me even when you don’t think you are. You carry my bag, you sharpen my pencil, you give me cookies from the canteen, you make up silly nicknames for me.”
I scowled. “The nicknames are a stupid idea.”
“Don’t you dare stop, they’re the best!” Her eyes glittered. “You make my days better just knowing you’re waiting for me to start class together.”
I forced myself not to react, even though she’d just given me every gift I ever wanted. “That’s why you like me? Because you don’t feel so alone? Any boy could do that.”
She slipped off her barstool and pressed herself against me. “Any boy isn’t you.” Her head fell on my shoulder. “I have friends. I have company. But...none of them fills up the holes inside me like you do. It’s like...I only need you. And that’s terrifying because I know you hide so much, and I don’t know if you’ll decide that one day—”
“Stop.”
“But you’d tell me, right? If I pried too much or annoyed you enough to push you—”
“Olin.” My voice was fierce. “Enough.”
“I like you, Gilbert, not because of what you do for me, but because of the secrets you refuse to share. You think they’ll change how I care about you.” She pressed a fleeting kiss on my cheek. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
I clenched every muscle I possessed so I didn’t clutch her close and kiss her back. Kiss her mouth this time. Kiss her until I couldn’t stop.
With my eyes closed, I asked quietly. “You like me?”
“So much.”
“How do you like me?” I opened my eyes, forcing a smile and repeating what she said to me that first day we talked. “Do you like me like me or just—”
“I like you like you.” Her gaze fell to my lips. “I want to like you forever.”
I froze, even as my heart went wild. “Forever is a long time.”