Restraint by Adriana Locke

Author:Adriana Locke [Locke, Adriana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Umbrella Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2020-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Blaire

“I feel like food is your love language,” I say, stretching my toes out in front of me.

Holt sits on a wicker chair across the little round table between us and smiles over the rim of his glass.

“There have been worse things said about me,” he says.

I close my eyes and listen to the crickets chirp all around us.

The screened-in porch off the kitchen feels like a cocoon. A fire burns in the large stone fireplace along the far wall. From our perch, you can see the pool and spa to the left and to the right, a vast field of green that I gazed at while eating my breakfast this morning.

Man, how that feels like more than almost a day ago.

I’m not sure if it was the bourbon or if opening up to Holt relaxed me so much, but something did. I could close my eyes and drift to a peaceful sleep. Instead, I let my eyelids fall, and I remember the safety of his arms as I cried.

It’s been a long time since I felt that—the support. And just that someone gives a damn.

“If you don’t want any more of this, I’m going to take it inside,” Holt says with a yawn.

I open my eyes. “I had two pieces. It’s two in the morning. If I eat any more, I’m going to be sick.”

He chuckles as he gets to his feet. “Then I’ll take it inside.”

“Here, I’ll help you.”

We gather our plates and napkins and the rest of the pizza and head inside.

“So, honest opinion—was that better than Chicago pizza?” he asks.

“Close but no. It’s the crust.” I shrug. “It’s just not the same.”

He holds a paper plate over the recycling container. “You just ate two pieces.”

“What is your point?”

“That you must’ve liked it a little bit.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t. I just said Chicago pizza is better.”

“You’re wrong,” he teases as he deposits the plate in the bin.

I walk behind him and ignore the way my body is pulled in his direction. It’s like a magnet—tugging me toward him no matter where I am.

I’ve noticed it all night. We might start on opposite sides of the kitchen, but we end up side by side. Even when we moved to the porch to eat, our chairs drifted closer and closer.

It’s a weird occurrence, but one I don’t mind.

I don’t think he minds, either.

“At least I don’t have thirty frozen pizzas in my freezer,” I point out as I wipe the counter off. “That’s overkill, don’t you think?”

“Rosie’s granddaughter was selling them for her softball team.”

I shake my head.

“What?” He laughs. “They were ten bucks for a large one-topping. It was a good deal, and it supported a good cause. What’s not to love about that?”

I can’t help but laugh too. It doesn’t take long before it turns into a long, sleepy yawn.

“Tired?” Holt asks.

“Yeah.”

“It’s been a long day. Let’s head to bed.”

“I hope I can sleep,” I say as he flips off the overhead lights.

He nudges my elbow toward the doorway.

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