Page 28 of The Devil's Den

“I’m sorry,” I say and meaning it. “I don’t know how it feels to have a mom, but I bet it was nice.”

“She was pretty great.” She smiles big, looking distantly, wiping quickly under her eye. “Anyway, you got ice cream in this place or what?” she asks Raquel, blinking rapidly. “I want a bowl full of chocolate.”

“I think so.” Raquel giggles, standing up to check the fridge. “You’re in luck, cuz,” she calls, pulling out a carton, lifting it in the air. “Let me grab some bowls.”

“You know what,” Chiara retorts. “Just get some spoons. We’ll eat right out of it. I think we’ve earned it.”

“I think you’re right,” I say, meeting her gaze, a threaded smile between us, like she sees me, the silent hurt I carry in my heart.

Raquel brings over the spoons and we dig in, laughing together, having the best time as though our life is normal like all the other kids our age. But there’s nothing normal about us, especially me.

* * *

MATTEO

“Did you get to eat?” she asks as soon as she’s down here. A pretty flowy blue dress hits her knees, the straps thin at her shoulders. I shouldn’t look at her the way I am right now, but I can’t help how beautiful she is.

Her blonde hair falls over both shoulders, pinned back at the center, away from her face, which is a good thing, because her face is too breathtaking to hide.

I clear my throat, gesturing with my head at the empty bowl on the other side of me.

“Oh good.” She moves forward, playing with her hands, clasping them tightly in front of her. “Sorry I wasn’t here to bring it to you. I was out with—”

“A date?” I cut her off, gritting my teeth so damn hard, it fucking hurts. I don’t want her out with anyone but me. But she has to live her life.

The chain cuts into my skin as I pull, reminding me that I’ll never be with her. I’m the secret she keeps, not the boy she falls for. I run a hand down my face, avoiding her gaze.

Everything I know about the world, I learned from her, and she’s one good teacher. Being secluded here, I would’ve wasted away, been a moron who knew nothing, but she taught me all of it. So yeah, I know about dating, and sex, and all that shit. When she pulled out a health-ed book last year, or whatever it was called, and explained that whole business… Yeah, it was damn awkward.

I don’t want her doing any of that with someone else. I want that with her. Someday. When it can be the first time for both of us. Together.

Nice to dream, except it won’t ever happen. She’s free in more ways than I am. That’s the way it should be. I’d never wish my life on Aida.

She doesn’t know I like her. I never admitted my feelings. Because what’s the point? What could we do about it? Not like I could take her on a date or buy her flowers.

I want to take her on a picnic, hold her hand, our faces to the sun. The warmth… I could feel it. My eyes fall to a close. Deep breaths. We’re there now.

Her soft footfalls approach, yanking me from the fantasy, and I manage a glimpse at her.

“Me? A date?” she finally answers. “Please, who would want me anyway?”

My pulse races as I give her a long stare. And once I find that doubt in her eyes, I can no longer hold it in, and it comes spilling out.

“Me!” I slap a palm against my chest. “I’d want you. That’s who.”

“Wha-what?” she stammers, her brows tightening, mouth trembling. “Do you—do you really mean that?” Her steps draw closer.

“Of course, I mean that, Aida,” I whisper. “How could you not see it?” My heart tilts with emotion, gripping me with more than I’ve ever felt before, especially when I look into her unsure eyes.

“I just…” Her lashes go downcast.

There’s that doubt again.

“Sit with me.” I pat the empty space, needing her close. And when she does, when she lowers right beside me, clasping her hands on her knees, I slip mine between them, threading my fingers through hers. “I like you, Aida, even when I shouldn’t. I’ve liked you for a while now. I just haven’t had the guts to admit it.” She finally looks at me, her expression stunned, those long lashes fluttering.

“I—I like you too,” she confesses with a hushed breath, like she’s afraid someone will hear it. “There’s no one I like more.”

My mouth quirks up at the corner, my stomach dropping in that nervous way I only get with her.

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