Page 12 of Dylan's Dad
A soft little smile appears and she nods. “Can we have spaghetti? It’s the thing I’m best at making.”
“Babygirl, you are not cooking, I am. You can pick anything you want.”
Now she’s looking at me like I’m a puzzle she can’t quite figure out. “Anything?”
“Whatever your heart desires. If I can’t cook it, I’ll order it.”
She smiles at me mischievously. “Mushroom Swiss burgers?”
“Perfect. What are you thinking for the side? French fries?”
Shaking her head at me, I can see her smile has turned into a full grin lighting up her entire face. “Mac and cheese.”
Her grin is contagious and I feel lighter just being around her when she’s smiling like this. “Done.” I get to my feet and head into the kitchen noticing she’s become my shadow following behind me.
As I begin to gather the ingredients for the Mushroom Swiss burgers, my Little Flower takes a seat on one of the barstools near the kitchen counter. I can't help but steal glances at her. She's so delicate, yet there's a strength within her that has captured my attention from the moment we first started exchanging letters.
I start cooking, moving around the kitchen with ease as if I've done this a million times before. The sizzling sound of the burgers fills the air, accompanied by the mouthwatering aroma of sautéed mushrooms and melted Swiss cheese. I catch Lola watching me intently, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Is this your first time having someone cook for you?" I ask, breaking the silence.
She blushes, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Yeah," she admits softly. "I mean obviously my parents cooked for me until they passed but when I was with. . ."
A surge of protectiveness swells within me, and I can't help but feel the anger rising in me, knowing she was talking aboutwhen she was with Dylan. I still can't fathom where I went wrong with him. How could I raise such a monster and be completely unaware of it.
Unable to push the anger down, I turn the burners down. “I’ll be right back, Little Flower.” Stepping through the sliding door to the patio, I reach into my pocket pulling out my pack of cigarettes. By the second drag, I start to feel better.
Coming back inside I go back to the stove but she is no longer hoovering. She has lifted herself up onto the counter next to the stove. So far we’ve been in silence while I’ve been working but it’s no longer an awkward silence it’s a comfortable silence. Pouring the cream into the pot I look up at her and notice a curl has fallen forward and God she looks so perfect and I just wanna kiss the shit outta her big full lips. Nope. No. Not going there. Focusing back on the food in front of me I get back to it.
I can feel her gaze on me, her presence beside me igniting a fire within that I've been trying to suppress. But there's no denying the attraction that crackles in the air between us. It's been building ever since we first laid eyes on each other.
As I stir the macaroni and cheese, my hand brushes against hers accidentally, sending an electric shock through my entire body. Her soft gasp doesn't go unnoticed, and I see her cheeks flush with a deep shade of pink.
Pushing my depraved thoughts even further down, I plate our dinner. “You wanna grab the drinks? I got the food.” Taking the plates into the living room and setting them on the coffee table. “So, what are you thinking? Movie? TV? Music?”
Her gaze flickers from the plates to me, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "Um, maybe some music?" she suggests hesitantly.
I smile at her, wanting to make her feel comfortable and at ease. "Sure thing, Little Flower. Any preferences?"
She shrugs, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "Anything is fine. I trust your taste."
My heart swells with fondness at her words, and I quickly decide on a playlist. As the sound of my chaotic playlist fills the room, I take a seat beside her on the couch, leaving a comfortable distance between us.
We eat in companionable silence, stealing glances at each other every now and then. There's something intimate about sharing a meal together, even if it's just burgers and macaroni and cheese. It's a small moment of domesticity, something I hadn't realized I was missing all those years raising Dylan on my own.
After we finish eating, I lean back against the couch and let out a contented sigh. The food was delicious, but what made it even better was the fact that I shared it with Lola. We sit there for a while, immersed in the music playing softly in the background.
“Reaper?” her voice was quiet and trembling. She climbs into my lap straddling me and my hands instinctively grasp her hips and damn she feels so good.
“Little Flower? What are you doing?”
“Kiss me, please.”
Dropping my forehead to hers, “I can’t. We can’t.”
“Please.” She whimpers and I can actually feel my control slipping. “I’m not asking to be your girlfriend or even a tomorrow. Just please for tonight. The last time I was kissed or touched was him and I don’t want to think about that. I don’t wanna go back there, like I do each time I sleep and then wake from the nightmares. I just need something good. I know I can’t erase that but I just need my next time to be good and to have a choice in it.”
My blood runs cold as it sinks in. Did he rape her? I’m gonna fucking kill him.
