I suck in a breath to help me push away my confusion, even though we all know it’s useless. With a smile that doesn’t seem to leave my face, I take the seat beside him while I wait for him to take the first bite in anticipation.
He lifts his fork to his mouth, closing his eyes, as if he’s gracing his taste buds with a gourmet meal, and he needs to savor the moment.
“And you say I’m dramatic?” I roll my eyes.
“You are,” he counters, swallowing his food.
“So are you!”
“Maybe.” He smirks, then adds, “It’s really good, baby.”
I don’t believe a word he’s saying, and my eyes narrow to slits.
“I swear! Best mac and cheese I’ve ever had.”
I sit a bit straighter, deciding to take that as a win, not even going to keep wondering if he’s bullshitting me or not, then take a bite myself. We eat in silence, like always, though I can’t help noticing the quick glances he gives me every few seconds.
“When did you start the charity?” I point my fork at his shirt, and he glances down.
“Eight years ago.”
“How did she die?” I keep my tone low, cautious, not sure if he wants to talk about it.
“Overdose.”
My eyes widen at that revelation.
“When I was sixteen.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” I fix my gaze on my plate, awkwardly taking another bite.
“I don’t mind.” He takes the last bite of his plate, then leans back onto his stool. He drapes his arm on the back of mine, then starts to play with my hair while I continue eating. “My mother was an addict for as long as I can remember. She had a car accident when I was four. Broke a bone in her back. It was a good fracture and she would’ve made a full recovery, but she got some heavy painkillers because of it. They helped. Until they made things worse.”
“That’s how she got addicted?”
“My father’s job required him to travel a lot. My mother could hide her addiction for a long time. Then, after a few years, she went in and out of rehab, until finally, she took too much and had an overdose. It’s why I’ve been living in the states since I was twelve. My uncle lives in Maine and because my father couldn’t take care of my mother and I at the same time, he sent me to boarding school there. That way, I could be with my uncle during holiday breaks and he and my mother could visit me. It’s where I met Jensen.”
“I’m so sorry.” I swallow, my voice breaking a little.
“Don’t be.” He comfortingly rubs my back as if I’m the one who needs to be consoled. “My father did what he thought was best at the time.”
“Do you resent him for it? For sending you to boarding school.”
“No.” His answer is quick and genuine. “It brought me to where I am now. Of course, I wished I would’ve seen my parents more, but my father knew he couldn’t give me the stability a child needs with my mother being ill. I understand. He loved my mother more than anything in the world, and he needed to try everything that he could to save her.” He takes a sip of water. “Unfortunately, in the end, it didn’t matter.”
I frown as I rake my eyes over his features, speechless. I don’t even know what to say or how to reply to that.
“How?” I wage my head.
“How what?”
“Any child would’ve been frustrated, but you, Bodi McKay, you are special.” He holds my gaze as I speak those words, and the energy shifts between us. It’s not sexual, filled with lust and need like we’re used to, but it’s different. As if our friendship is elevating, building into something deeper.
“Thank you.” He licks his lips, and I push my plate to the side. My stomach is roaring, but with a different hunger than the one that’s satisfied with food. I lean back, my gaze locking with Bodi’s again.
“That’s why this foundation is so important to you?”
“Yeah. I know it doesn’t fix anything for me. Or for my dad. But maybe it will help someone else.”
I’m in awe of this man, and I feel my eyes growing moist.
“Your dad will love it.”
“If he gets the chance to see it, yeah.”
“What do you mean?”
He exhales deeply, his gaze dropping to his empty plate.
“His situation is deteriorating pretty quickly. The doctors don’t think it’s a good idea to bring him to an event that big. It could overwhelm him, confuse him more.”
“Did they say it was definitely no?”
“No, but those seizures he’s been having?” I hum in recognition. “He’s been getting them more frequently. It’s a sign that he’s not in a good state. I don’t think he’ll be able to make it.”
My hand falls to his thigh as I give him a coy smile. “Your heart is so pure. You really are a good person, Bodi.”
“Thank you. That means a lot. And it also means a lot that you cooked for me. No one has ever cooked for me.” The sincerity in his eyes has me crashing my lips against his before starting to place small kisses on the corner of his mouth.
“You’re welcome,” I say with a husky voice, my center already longing for his touch. “Now, how about dessert?”