Page 101 of Lorenzo & Lily

Chapter Fifteen

Hector Perez madehis way slowly down the street, limping slightly as he went. Some glanced at him and quickly averted their eyes, others stared, still others didn’t notice him at all.

Sometimes, he wanted to be noticed, to be recognized for everything he’d been through.

Other times, he wanted to blend in and disappear into the crowd without a second thought.

Today, on his first outing in months, he wished he could disappear.

Anyone looking at him wouldn’t know he had prosthetic legs. Since he was wearing long pants, they’d likely assume he was disabled in some way, or injured. He was, but it wasn’t his legs that were the problem; it was his heart and his head.

He turned a corner and a woman strode by, giving him the once-over. She smiled as she took in his toned arms and muscular chest, easily visible through his fitted t-shirt. Her appreciation flitted to surprise as she noticed how he walked. She frowned in confusion and walked away.

He wore sunglasses, not to shield his eyes from the sun, but to shield his expressions from those he passed, from those just like her who didn’t know how to approach him or speak to him. He was just a goddamn person, no matter how fucked up he was. Why was that so hard for people to see?

As he approached the Royal Court, a local pub close to the MARC, he wondered if he should have smiled at her, to help put her more at ease. He shook his head free of that thought. It’d been a long time since he smiled, and he’d forgotten how to do it. He didn’t have a normal smile anymore, it was wonky. His laugh wasn’t much better.

He thumbed the talisman in his pocket: a small pink and white seashell. For some reason, it gave him strength as he opened the pub’s door.

He shifted his sunglasses to rest in his hair, and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dimmer light in the room. It was everything you imagined a European pub – one that was mostly local and not as touristy – to be. The bar and furniture were carved from a dark wood, finished with a gloss that had faded over the years leaving scuff marks and gashes visible. The booths featured seats in a dark red, many of them with visible rips or tears. Though the lighting was low, the bar was lit more brightly, shelves of liquor displayed against a slightly smudged mirror. It was late in the afternoon, yet business was bustling. Easy conversation and laughter surrounded him.

The entire pub was worn down, but not worn out, and welcoming.

He loved it instantly.

He looked around, searching for Lorenzo.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?”

Hector turned towards the voice – a waitress, based on the black half-apron she wore around her wide hips. She wasn’t looking at him, and was focused instead on pulling some menus from behind a hostess stand.

“Pardon?”

She glanced up, and her dark eyes captivated him. Even behind the glasses she wore, her eyes shone like beacons. She was almost as tall as him, with curves that were semi-hidden under a baggy cardigan. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun at the back of her head, accentuating her round face. The only spot of color she wore was a pair of dangling earrings in pale blue and silver, which seemed to enhance her tanned skin.

She was beautiful, though she tried very hard to hide it.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” she asked again.

“Yeah. Yes. Um, Captain–I mean Prince Lorenzo.”

She thumbed her hand behind her. “Captain’s not here yet, but we keep a booth reserved for him in the back. Does the booth work for you? Or would you prefer a table?”

His brows drew together. Had she noticed his disability, and that navigating a booth might be difficult? “Why might I prefer a table?”

She picked up some menus and hugged them to her chest – a nice-sized chest, he noticed.

“The booths are a pretty tight fit, and they’ve been difficult for people like you to manage.”

He sucked in a breath. “People likeme?”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean any offense. You’re just, um, really big.” Her eyes fell to his chest and she blushed, a tinge of pink infusing her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Really. It’s hard even for the prince to get in the booth, and you seem even, um, broader than him.” Her cheeks shifted from a mild pink to a bright red.

At that, he very nearly smiled his wonky smile. A small sense of relief filled him to learn that she was just awkward. Not only that, she was the fucking adorable kind of awkward.

“I mean, I don’t know why the prince likes the booth, just that he does, and even some of the other veterans who visit him here have similar issues with the seating, particularly the disabled ones.”

His face shut down. “You noticed my disability?”

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