Page 31 of Secret Admirer

“I know how to make spaghetti,” I blurt out making her laugh. “I can make dinner if you still want me to stay.”

“Oh, you’re not getting out of staying with me.” She points out the door. “Grab your bag so we can get home before it gets dark because while I was sitting here chilling out, I was daydreaming about ordering takeout from The Cheesecake Factory.”

I can’t help but laugh at her. “I thought you said you wanted to eat healthy and that’s not healthy.”

“What if I promise to eat healthy for the rest of the weekend?” She peers up at me, her big blue eyes filled with hope.

I play along because she can do whatever she wants. It’s her house and I won’t be there to hold her accountable if she slips up. “How can I deny you when you look at me like that?”

Somehow, she manages for her eyes to become bigger. Bluer. “Like what?”

Does she really not know? She has to.

“With cute puppy dog eyes filled with hope,” I answer.

“I wasn’t doing that, was I?” she asks, astounded.

She really doesn’t know. How has she made it this far in life and not know the power she holds with one single look?

Letting go of her hand, I close the car door and put my seatbelt on. “Don’t worry. It’s endearing. Let’s go get you your Cheesecake Factory and head to your house.”

Her smile turns cheesy and I can’t help but smile with her. “No better words have ever been spoken.”

15

Coco

“I can’t believeyou’ve never had The Cheesecake Factory before. I love it, but it’s not exactly good for the waistline.” I fork a bite of my pumpkin pie cheesecake into my mouth. “Isn’t it divine?” I ask around my food.

Bodhi only shrugs, and if my mouth wasn’t filled with cheesecake goodness, it would be hanging open. “The pasta was good though and that bread, I could eat that bread all day.” He flushes and takes another bite of his red velvet cheesecake. Another of my favorites that I insisted he get since he couldn’t—more like wouldn’t—pick.

I’m not sure how to approach Bodhi on his issue about food. Heaven forbid we talk about money. For now, I’ll try to make him relax. No, I don’t understand what it’s like to be homeless and hungry, but I don’t care that he used to be or even if he still is. I can tell how good of a person he is. I only hope in my actions I’m showing him I don’t care. I only see Bodhi, the man who’s kind with a caring heart and a smoking hot body.

“Well, there are a couple of stores that sell it. Maybe the next time I go grocery shopping I’ll pick some up. It’s one of my favorites as well.”

“Coco,” he sighs my name out exasperatedly, “you don’t need to do that. I won’t even be here.”

Tilting my head to the side, I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you planning to not be in my life anymore?”

“No…but I won’t be here for meals. I only mean for you to get it ifyouwant it. Don’t get it because of me. Thank you again for dinner and lunch.”

I burst out laughing and immediately fall to the side and onto the island. He blinks and smiles at me, flashing his bright white teeth that pop against his bronzed skin. Bodhi’s only being nice. I don’t think he’s a fan of egg sandwiches like I am.

“I promise I won’t make egg sandwiches for a good while.”

“What?” His eyes widen.

“You don’t have to pretend to like them. It’s fine, but tomorrow we’re watching The Food Network or YouTube or something and finding some good recipes.”

Bodhi looks around the kitchen with a critical eye. “It’s so white.”

“It is.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what my parents’ were thinking when they decided on an all-white kitchen like this. It matches the rest of the house, but it is a little sterile.”

Resting his head in his hands, he asks. “Did your mom cook?”

“Oh no! Once I was in high school, my parents were either out to dinner or brought home takeout. I can’t remember my mom cooking past elementary school. This house was for show. All that mattered to them was how they were perceived; for my dad to be the best lawyer in the state, if not the country, and to raise the most money at fundraisers. They lived a very superficial life, and that’s why I left when I did. I couldn’t be fake any longer.”

A long finger traces the lines in the marble, his eyes following the movement. “I can’t imagine you being fake. You seem so…genuine and real.” He blows out a breath. “You’re like sunshine. All bubbly and bright.”

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