Page 26 of Bitter Prince
“Here, let me show you.” He let go of my wrist, took his own chopsticks, and held them up. I tried to imitate his grip, and after a few tries, he reached out and shifted my fingers to put them in the right position. “Hold your chopsticks toward the top, not in the middle or the end.”
I moved the sticks and they didn’t drop. My eyes met his as I grinned from ear to ear. “I have it. Look.”
He nodded. “Good job.”
I beamed like the sun at his praise. I grabbed the first roll and brought it to my lips. “Yummy,” I murmured. “Which one is sashimi?”
He pointed to the dish in the middle. “Dip it in the soy sauce. You might like it better that way.”
I nodded and reached for the piece, dipped it into the sauce, and then brought it to my lips. I chewed slowly, the raw fish tasted much stronger. Savory and bold.
“Hmmm, I like it,” I said, chewing.
“Good girl.”
I rolled my eyes but felt myself flush as I gestured toward the dishes. No way was I about to let him know how much his words affected me.
“You better eat some,” I murmured. “Or I’ll eat it all and you’ll be left hungry.”
He chuckled as he grabbed himself a piece. “You wouldn’t really leave me hungry. Would you, Reina?”
I scanned his face as I worked out what he was trying to say. Did he know I’d never stopped thinking about him?
“No, I wouldn’t,” I admitted, drowning in his beautiful eyes. They were unusual, a darker ring around the brown. They weren’t cold, but something about them had always fascinated me.
Amon reached for another piece and held it out to me.
“Try this,” he encouraged. I leaned forward and closed my lips around his sticks, then pulled back, savoring the taste of the tuna roll. My nose tingled and he chuckled, handing me my glass of water. “Drink.”
I gulped the water. “Gosh, that’s spicy tuna,” I said, draining the glass. “Next time give a girl warning.”
He took the glass out of my hands, chuckling. “Water won’t help. Milk will.” When I wrinkled my nose, he shook his head. “Fine, have it your way, but we have a long way to go.” He nodded his head toward the waiters making a beeline to our table, carrying another dozen small plates.
“Damn straight,” I muttered, grinning.
14
AMON
Two hours later, we were back in my car, her long hair now loose and cascading over her shoulders. My curiosity about her panic attacks was once again growing as I took in her sleepy eyes, her slumped shoulders. All through dinner, she chatted away about nothing and everything, telling me all about her friends and her studies, and all I could focus on were the things that upset her. Things that made her anxious or stressed. I’d learned a lot about her over the last few years, but nothing about her therapy and panic attacks had ever come up.
Finding out now was inevitable; Reina didn’t seem to hold anything back. It was refreshing, considering holding back was all I did.
Part of me wanted to take her apart and understand what made her tick. To understand what drove her, inspired her. To know why she still smiled with rays of sunshine if there were things in her past that required therapy.
She turned her head, staring at me unabashedly with curiosity clear in her blue eyes. “Do you often go back to Italy?”
“Yes.” Then, even though I knew the answer, I asked, “You?”
She fisted her hands in her lap, her knuckles turning white. “No.” I knew she and her sister hadn’t been back since the summer I’d met them at my father’s party. I knew a lot about her, as a matter of fact. Her education. Her social circle. Her spending habits, which weren’t insignificant. She remained silent briefly before adding, “After finals, I’m going. But just for a few days, a week at most.”
“Staying at your papà’s?” She nodded, her expression blank. Something about it had my chest tightening in frustration. I liked her better with that mischievous gleam in her eyes than hiding behind a mask.
I drove through the dark streets, glimmering lights casting shadows over her profile and her curly hair. The tension stretched, and I swept my gaze over her.
Her head rolled to the side, her eyes closed, long eyelashes resting on her smooth porcelain skin. High cheekbones, full lips, and furrowed brows. I needed to back off. She had her grandmother and papà to protect her. She didn’t need my protection as well.
Yet, here I was.
