Page 17 of Lovestruck at Sundown
“Your food’s gonna get cold,” I said, looking at Aaron. “Please take a seat and eat. You must be starving.”
“That’s alright, Miss,” Aaron replied while David lifted a brow and shrugged. “We’ll eat on the plane.”
“Why are you being so … difficult?” The annoyance was getting to me. “Things are going to change, Aaron. We have to stop pretending like all of this is necessary. Like looking out for potential dangers around me when there are none. This place is safe. I’m safe. So sit down and eat your goddamned shawarmas right now because we don’t want the plane to smell like garlic and cumin.”
I didn’t mind the smell of food, but I had to give him something he could use as an excuse to justify the need to eatnow rather than later.
He sighed and caved in. “Okay.”
They followed me and grabbed their bags. I was going to offer them a seat at our table, but I knew things were beyond tense with Aaron, and there wouldn’t be much to talk about, so it was going to be awkward for everyone. They probably thought the same because they sat a few tables away from ours anyway.
“You should’ve started without me!” I retook my seat at the table next to William. “Your food’s gonna get cold.”
“No way I would’ve started without you.” He lifted his shawarma to take a bite and jerked his chin at my plate as he chewed. “Mmm.” William frowned and nodded at his food approvingly.
“Don’t know where to take my first bite from.” I laughed, gyrating the shawarma in my hands. It was stuffed with juicy meat, falafel, hummus, and veggies. I took a bite, and it was so good. “So, did you ever consider a career as a chef? I love how passionate you are about food in general.” I wiped my mouth and grabbed a few French fries as I waited for him to swallow so he could reply to my question.
“I was studying Culinary Arts back home in Stockholm, actually.” He took a sip of his lemonade and licked his lips. “I had one semester left when my dad’s agent got me a big audition for a Hollywood film. I’d only had some minor roles in small-budget films in Sweden. So I wasn’t really serious about acting at that point.”
“So what happened? I assume you didn’t graduate?”
He shook his head and tossed a couple of fries into his mouth. “Acting had caught my attention since I was a teenager. You know, admiring my dad and all of that. Plus, my brothers and I talked about it all the time. We thought it would be fun to pursue acting. Together.” He took another bite of his shawarma,and so did I. We chewed in silence, and he continued. “But I didn’t think an opportunity like that would present itself until I was older. So when I was offered that leading role, I had to make a decision. Put my studies on hold or decline.” He grabbed a fry and fed it to me, smiling. “At first, I thought I could work on this film and go back to Sweden to graduate. But that role got me another and another, and then Joel joined in, and Tobias, and without realizing it, we all became full-time actors living the life we always dreamed of living.”
I studied him for a moment. “But?”
William chuckled and placed his hands behind his neck, adjusting his cap and stretching himself for a second. “You’ve always seen right through me, haven’t you?” He rested his forearms on the table and leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek.
“Eh.” I tilted my head with a laugh. “Maybe not at first when you were my mysterious, drunk, kiss-stealing neighbor.”
William shook his head and sipped on his lemonade, lowering the glass on the table afterward. “I was a drunk mess that day.” He frowned. “I’m so sorry, älskling.”
“I thought you said you would never be sorry about that day.” I smiled and cupped his cheek with my hand. He grabbed it and kissed it.
“No. I said I would never be sorry about kissing you.” His gaze dropped to my lips, warming my core. “That’s different. And I’m still not sorry about that. But … you know what I mean.”
I did.
William took a couple more bites of his shawarma and finished eating it in record time.
“You are forgiven, but stop distracting me and tell me what you were going to say before. About the chef thing.” I fed him a fry and then took another bite of my wrap.
“It’s nothing. I—” William crumpledhis shawarma’s wrapping paper and made a ball out of it. “I guess sometimes I wish I had graduated.” He tossed the paper ball on the table. “I know it’s just a title, and it’s too late now. But I had only one semester left to finish, and I’ve never stopped cooking. I love it.”
“So you regret not having graduated?”
He licked the corner of his lips and looked away for a moment. His gaze met mine again, and he sighed. “I do. Feels like unfinished business. And I do catch myself thinking about it from time to time. Can’t brush it off.” He shook his head and straightened in his seat. “I’m being ridiculous.”
“No, you’re not, William.” I grabbed his hand. “Look at me.”
His lips parted, drawing in a breath like he was going to say something, but he didn’t.
“Do you like being an actor?” I dared to ask. “And all that it entails?”
“I do,” he said quickly. “It’s exhausting and intense, but … yeah, I like it. It’s been fun and exciting. And the money is great too, can’t complain.”
“But you love cooking, and wonder what your life would’ve looked like if you had chosen a different path?”
William’s cheeks puffed as he blew a long steady breath through his mouth. “I wouldn’t have met you, so that’s not a thought I’ve cared to entertain.”
