Page 23 of Allured
“You’re the one ordering extra pickles andI’mthe heathen?” Ezekiel asks, shaking his head and popping in a sweet potato fry.
“What can I say? I’m a pickle girl, Ez.”
“Surely, that’s not a thing, is it?” He sounds genuinely concerned.
“Eat your food, angel.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EZEKIEL
Profound.
Alek’s candor inspired me to open up during our dinner as well. While I wasn't ready to admit my deepest character faults to him, I certainly told him more than I usually shared with most people. All while we sat and shoved delicious greasy food into our mouths.
I couldn’t recall the last time I had been on a date, much less a date this casual and carefree. I wished it didn’t have to end.
During dinner, I told Alek that I am forty—two, a linguistics professor, own a terrible cat named Peaches. Opening up about my childhood, I told him how I grew up with Knight and his mother. It didn’t feel like the time to get into the specifics of my childhood but I did let Alek know how I was orphaned at seven—years—old after my parent’s fatal car accident. I had become mute in response to their death and while I hadn’t really spoken to anyone but Knight during my childhood, I fondly remember picking up books from my aunt’s library and learning bits and pieces of a variety of languages. With time and therapy, I beganto speak again at the age of thirteen. Somewhat shockingly, I was able to communicate in several languages due to my independent studies.
Alek listened and offered reassurance, his leg softly brushing against mine under the table while his eyes were a pool of sympathy. It wasn’t the regular pity that many would show when hearing about my past. With Alek, there was a deep understanding only those who have been through the grief of losing a parent can attest to.
“Is that why you’re a linguistics professor now?” Alek asks, pausing his pursuit for the last drops of his milkshake. Earlier, he had let me know it was his cheat day and he was going to swallow every bit down. Unsurprisingly, his words had my face flushing with heat.
“Yes, essentially,” I began, wiping off the oily residue on my hands with a napkin and then applying hand sanitizer from my bag.
“While it was something I wasn’t physically able to do, I became excellent at speaking within my mind, and the love of both written and spoken language stemmed from there.” At my confession, Alek nodded in understanding with a thoughtful and sympathetic look on his face.
I am aware of how my mental processes aredifferentand at that moment, it truly felt like Alek did understand why and how I operated.
“I know it can be hard to share, Ez. I can’t pretend to know what you went through, but I want to say I appreciate you opening up. I was feeling kinda nervous that I spilled too much earlier.” Alek sets his empty glass to the outer edge of the booth beside our stacked, empty plates.
The solid warmth of his leg against mine feels so natural that I immediately miss its presence as Alek straightens in his seat.
“We each had a therapy session over incredible meals, Alek.” I joke, attempting to lighten the mood. Divulging everything we did tonight truly feels like a sort of intimacy I had not experienced before.
Alek’s deep laugh steals some of the heavy sensation forming in my chest. I only hope my accompanying laugh can do the same for him.
Our laughter quiets and only a moment passes before Alek speaks up. “I’m not ready for this date to end, angel,” he admits.
“I couldn’t dare leave your presence right now, Alek.”
His breath hitches visibly and my eyes hone in on the broad muscles of his arms as he digs into his pockets. Within a second, Alek pries his wallet from his tight—fitting jeans and places several bills on the table.
“Take me home then, Ez.”
The short trek back to the parking lot of the burlesque club feels much longer than it did earlier. A welcome tension fills the miniscule amount of air between us as we walk, pressed side—by—side and hand—in—hand.
Not a word is exchanged between us. It feels like we said more than enough tonight and now is the time to fully sink into the feelings growing between us.
Trust, understanding, and anticipation mingle just as our fingers are intertwined.
It is Alek that finally breaks the silence as we enter the now—full parking lot.
“You’ll me if I’m— if this is too much, right?” Alek asks suddenly, and somewhat shyly, as we approach my car.
“What do you mean?” I’m typically at least a little better at reading people, but Alek’s question and expression leave me confused.
“I mean this, Ez.” Alek lets go of my hand and gestures between us as he leans against the bumper of my car. “You haven’t told me outright but I know that this is kinda new to you.”
