section of her soul. Other days blaring out in the open and so loud and suffocating that Sophie struggled to breathe. Like every day since she’d known about Charlie’s con of Aunt Angela.
“I don’t live here.” At the moment Sophie barely lived anywhere. She walked away from her Seattle apartment rather than pay rent on a place where she temporarily didn’t stay. Most of her stuff sat in storage. She hid out at Shadow Hill. She imposed on Tom at his house.
If humans needed to belong in order to survive, she was in deep trouble.
“That doesn’t matter,” Leah said.
“Of course it does.”
Leah waved her hand in the air, like she tended to do whenever she was about to take the conversation in a new direction. “You should eat with us when you’re around the house.”
Sophie couldn’t let her mind go there. Couldn’t even spin the fantasy for a second. “I don’t think—”
“Agreed.” Beck continued to hold up the fork. He even waved it in the air.
Sophie’s mind went black. Alphabet, general addition—all gone. “What?”
“You’re not just the help.”
He stared her down as he said it, those blue eyes intense and focused solely on her. Since Leah had stopped eating and joined in the who-will-blink-first contest, Sophie snatched the fork out of Beck’s fingers. She was about to dig into the eggs when the whisper left her lips. “You spelled out the employer/employee relationship pretty clearly yesterday.”
Leah laughed. “Sorry I missed that.”
“No, you’re not, because I was wrong yesterday.” Beck shook his head as he broke a piece of bacon in half. “Boy, was I wrong.”
Before she could pretend she didn’t hear him, Sophie let out a small choking sound. Really, this guy could reduce her to a puddle of goo without even trying. Who knew something so simple as cooking her breakfast and making her feel wanted would send her stomach galloping toward her throat.
Leah’s gaze bounced between Sophie and Beck. The smile inching across her mouth grew wider the longer Leah looked. “Interesting.”
Beck’s hand shifted until it sat just inches from Sophie’s. “So, no more referring to you as the help.” The firm tone mirrored the tightness across his shoulders.
He clearly wanted her to understand, but after the library . . . “Then what am I?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Leah picked up her plate and got halfway to her feet. “I’m going to go—”
Beck pointed at her. “Do not move.”
“Uh, hello?” The you’re-one-step-from-death attitude dripped from Leah’s voice.
He answered her flash of anger with one of his killer dimpled smiles. “We’re going to sit here and eat like normal people.”
She still hovered between sitting and standing. “I’m not sure normal people, whatever that means, take orders to eat.”
“Did I really order?”
“Sounded like it.”
“Sorry about that. It’s just that my mom used to insist we have dinner together a few times a week. No games or arguing allowed.” Beck reached over and refilled Leah’s coffee mug. “We sat, talked and ate. Anyone who violated her rules did not eat.”
The words hit Sophie like a punch. Now she was desperate for Leah to sit down. Beck spilling personal information never happened. The tiny peek, the comments he made here and there: Sophie grabbed on to them. He came from a fractured home with an irresponsible, even criminal, father. Yet, Beck seemed to handle both the big things and the little things without going into extreme crisis mode. She wanted that skill.
“Sounds like a good tradition,” Leah said as she sat down and eyed Beck.
And it might have been if they didn’t sit in silence. A full minute ticked by before Sophie jumped in. “So what exactly were you allowed to talk about at these dinners?”
Beck shrugged. “The usual.”
Yeah, that wasn’t helpful. “I don’t know what that means.”
“School, sports, the idiot kids who lived across the street.”
The
“I don’t live here.” At the moment Sophie barely lived anywhere. She walked away from her Seattle apartment rather than pay rent on a place where she temporarily didn’t stay. Most of her stuff sat in storage. She hid out at Shadow Hill. She imposed on Tom at his house.
If humans needed to belong in order to survive, she was in deep trouble.
“That doesn’t matter,” Leah said.
“Of course it does.”
Leah waved her hand in the air, like she tended to do whenever she was about to take the conversation in a new direction. “You should eat with us when you’re around the house.”
Sophie couldn’t let her mind go there. Couldn’t even spin the fantasy for a second. “I don’t think—”
“Agreed.” Beck continued to hold up the fork. He even waved it in the air.
Sophie’s mind went black. Alphabet, general addition—all gone. “What?”
“You’re not just the help.”
He stared her down as he said it, those blue eyes intense and focused solely on her. Since Leah had stopped eating and joined in the who-will-blink-first contest, Sophie snatched the fork out of Beck’s fingers. She was about to dig into the eggs when the whisper left her lips. “You spelled out the employer/employee relationship pretty clearly yesterday.”
Leah laughed. “Sorry I missed that.”
“No, you’re not, because I was wrong yesterday.” Beck shook his head as he broke a piece of bacon in half. “Boy, was I wrong.”
Before she could pretend she didn’t hear him, Sophie let out a small choking sound. Really, this guy could reduce her to a puddle of goo without even trying. Who knew something so simple as cooking her breakfast and making her feel wanted would send her stomach galloping toward her throat.
Leah’s gaze bounced between Sophie and Beck. The smile inching across her mouth grew wider the longer Leah looked. “Interesting.”
Beck’s hand shifted until it sat just inches from Sophie’s. “So, no more referring to you as the help.” The firm tone mirrored the tightness across his shoulders.
He clearly wanted her to understand, but after the library . . . “Then what am I?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Leah picked up her plate and got halfway to her feet. “I’m going to go—”
Beck pointed at her. “Do not move.”
“Uh, hello?” The you’re-one-step-from-death attitude dripped from Leah’s voice.
He answered her flash of anger with one of his killer dimpled smiles. “We’re going to sit here and eat like normal people.”
She still hovered between sitting and standing. “I’m not sure normal people, whatever that means, take orders to eat.”
“Did I really order?”
“Sounded like it.”
“Sorry about that. It’s just that my mom used to insist we have dinner together a few times a week. No games or arguing allowed.” Beck reached over and refilled Leah’s coffee mug. “We sat, talked and ate. Anyone who violated her rules did not eat.”
The words hit Sophie like a punch. Now she was desperate for Leah to sit down. Beck spilling personal information never happened. The tiny peek, the comments he made here and there: Sophie grabbed on to them. He came from a fractured home with an irresponsible, even criminal, father. Yet, Beck seemed to handle both the big things and the little things without going into extreme crisis mode. She wanted that skill.
“Sounds like a good tradition,” Leah said as she sat down and eyed Beck.
And it might have been if they didn’t sit in silence. A full minute ticked by before Sophie jumped in. “So what exactly were you allowed to talk about at these dinners?”
Beck shrugged. “The usual.”
Yeah, that wasn’t helpful. “I don’t know what that means.”
“School, sports, the idiot kids who lived across the street.”
The
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