by Celeste, B.
Instantly, my gaze snapped to her face which was keen on avoiding me. “Don’t fucking do that, Adele.”
She flinched.
“Don’t put yourself down.”
“Theo, I’m—”
“No.” My voice was hard, causing her lips to snap shut hearing my impatience. “I will not let you do that to yourself. You’ve come so far. Don’t go back now.”
I heard the soft, slow exhale she took and watched her body loosen from the tension building. “I’m not, Theo. Promise. But we can’t pretend that I didn’t have a…a moment when things weren’t good. Ripley told me I’m always going to have days where I have to fight a little harder and that it’s good I can acknowledge the moments when they arrive. And, if I’m being honest, I’m okay with admitting I’m not perfect. I tried too hard to be my whole life and that was what hurt me the most.”
This was the reason I admired her. Even though she was supposed to look up to people like me, older, wiser, with more life experience, it was me who looked up to this twenty-two-year-old. And I gave no fucks about it even at my forty years of age.
“You never cease to amaze me, you know that? It doesn’t matter what happens, your strength is blinding. I know people who have lost far less, been through things that don’t even compare, and have a bigger reaction to them. But not you. That’s inspiring.”
She stopped stirring again to turn and glance up at me, her eyes searching mine for a long moment like she was trying to find something. “That means a lot coming from you, but I’m not so sure I can accept the compliment. Especially because there are people who will always have it better than me and those who have it worse. I don’t like considering my circumstances to be a reason that puts me above or below others.”
Shaking my head, I turned to the faucet and filled the cup with water.
“What?” she doubted.
“Nothing, Della.”
Her palm brushed my arm, causing me to look over my shoulder at her curious gaze. “No, I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“I already said what I thought, you just emphasized it by saying what you did. You are, and always will be, beyond your years. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
My dick was willing to answer that when it strained against the denim it was trapped in. She didn’t grasp how sexy it was that she was strong and humble. “Because experience ages people, and normally not the good kind.”
Her frown was instant. “It isn’t like I had a bad life, Theo. You know that better than anybody. I just had moments that weren’t as stellar as others. And before you scold me for pointing that out, I’m just stating facts. Overall, I’ve lived a good life that I’m grateful for. Loss and all.”
I watched her for a moment, water forgotten in my hand, before smiling. “Like I said. Wise beyond your years.”
She just shrugged.
After food was plated sometime later, we sat down beside each other at the table. Even though I’d offered to eat in the living room and watch TV, something I knew she did more times than not at her place, she insisted she wanted a normal dinner because she only ate on the couch at home because she had nobody else to talk to.
There were more times than I liked to admit where my mind wandered to her when I was alone. Not in a sexual way, usually, but more with concern. I knew she lived alone and didn’t have people over often. Not even Pretty Boy. She spent a lot of time in her spare room turned studio, painting and getting lost in whatever project she had going. But there were days when I couldn’t help but wonder if she ever felt lonely, isolated, like she didn’t have a choice but to accept dinners in front of the television, probably watching some historical documentary or food competition, or if she hardly thought of it at all.
“Theo?” Snapping out of the thought, I realized I was staring at my plate in silence. “Does it not taste good? I could make you something else if you—”
“It’s fine.” To prove it, I dipped my fork into the pasta and wound it around the silver prongs before taking a hearty bite. She watched me like she was waiting for me to spit it out. Once I swallowed, I said, “I mean it, Della. It’s great.”
“You were staring at it like you found a hair or something.”
Chuckling, I looked at the full head of hair that she’d let loose as soon as she walked into the house. I preferred it down. It made me think of all the times she’d ask me or her father to brush it out for her because her arms were too short to detangle it after baths. The one summer Elizabeth had convinced her to get it cut so she’d be cooler, she ended up sobbing while clinging to my legs, and not even my promise that she looked cute, which she had, could calm her down.
It’d been in a few fantasies I tried keeping locked up as well, where a fistful was wound around my hand as I pulled her head back and kissed the fuck out of her while I thrusted inside her pussy. I didn’t allow myself to think about that often though.
“Lost in thought,” was the only information I offered her.
Her bottom lip stuck out, making me smirk, but I hid it by eating more so she couldn’t think I was lying.
“I’ve gotten better,” she admitted, picking at her own food. Her garlic bread was almost half eaten, though the small portion on her plate was barely touched. I’d wanted to tell her to eat, to put more on the plate, but I held myself back because it wouldn’t have done any good. At least she was eating something. “So, stop looking at my food like you’re going to lecture me.”
“I wasn’t,” I assured half-heartedly.
“Mmhmm.”
I grinned. “I was just thinking about how well your cooking skills have gotten.”
“I’d hope so,” she mused, twirling her fork around some pasta before stabbing a piece of chicken with it. “I’ve come a long way over the years considering my only other options were finding new Pop-Tarts and Healthy Choice meals to try.”
She had people to cook for her, but she never used them. When her mother was alive, she’d cook all the time for the family, but then she became busy with the charities she helped with and the events she’d gone to constantly with Anthony. They did everything for their family, for Adele, but their daughter was on her own more than I liked. It was why I’d stepped in so much, brought Della with me various places, that way she wasn’t always alone with the hired help.
Being the stubborn child that she was, she always insisted on eating premade meals, things she could make easily without anybody else’s help. When Elizabeth passed, her father tried to take up cooking and meal prep, so Della had something to eat that wasn’t loaded with sugar, especially considering Adele had become hyperaware of what she was eating, no thanks to the expectations that came with being a dancer and the way the tabloids came at her when she put on weight from the lack of proper nutrition. It hadn’t mattered that she burnt twice as many calories from her routines, she struggled with her body image because of everything in her life. I’d read that it was common for adolescents to have those challenges, but Della was a special case. She spiraled with the stress of her loss, in how swiftly everything changed for her because of her parents.
“I still have a long way to go considering I nearly burnt down my father’s house trying to prepare Christmas dinner that one year. I’m still afraid to do anything with turkey.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “If it makes you feel better, I can help you this year. Can’t just give up because of one incident.”
My mind went to my conversation with Sophie about her dancing, but the words didn’t feel the same. “You’re right, but do you really want to risk your kitchen getting burnt to a crisp?”
I shrugged. “I have the money to fix it.”
“Very encouraging.”
“I do my best.”
Her phone chirped from somewhere in the kitchen, causing her to look behind her. I frowned when she got up and dug through the purse that she’d draped on the island next to the empty fruit bowl. The sigh
escaping her lips made my brows pinch. “Trouble?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Della.”
She walked back over, dropping into her chair with her phone still in hand. “My professor emailed me about an opportunity that she’d brought up months ago. The deadline is this weekend and she needs an answer.”
“What is the opportunity?”
“An art class.”
I waited for her to enlighten me.
She set her phone down. “It’s an art class I’ve been wanting to be part of since sophomore year when the school started offering it. It’s not a regular class, it’s more like an invite-only event that only happens every two years and lasts for a week. They select students based on submissions throughout the year and apparently mine was one of them.”
Pride swept through me. “That’s great, Della. Why do you seem upset by it if you’ve wanted to do it for two years?”
“I just…” She licked her lips, her eyes darting to the phone. “I haven’t been very inspired since Dad passed away. I’m afraid if I go that they’ll be disappointed with what I produce. They bring top artists to evaluate and offer guidance. It’d be embarrassing if they felt they wasted a spot on me.”
“What did I tell you about putting yourself down?”
“You don’t get it, Theo.”
I learned toward her, my food forgotten along with hers. “Then make me.”
She met my gaze. “It’s simple. I don’t feel as though I’m good enough. I mean, my art. I don’t think my art is good enough.”
But that wasn’t what she meant at all. “I know you better than that, Della. Don’t try to bullshit me again.”
She said nothing.
We returned to our food, clearing off our plates in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but thick. I knew she wanted to say something but wouldn’t let herself.
“You going to tell me what’s on your mind? Can’t say I like seeing the way your brows pinch. The crease is back.” The crease was a tell that something bothered her.
“You don’t want to hear it, Theo.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, eyeing her in disbelief. “Try me.”
“I was thinking that you’re a good man, and that I’m glad you’re in my life.” Her delivery was soft as she looked up at me, her lips neutral as we locked eyes. “I owe you a lot for what you’ve done for me all these years.”
This time, it was me who remained silent.
“That’s all,” she whispered.
Chapter Five
Della
As soon as the door opened from the crowded hallway to the side stairwell, I inhaled a breath of fresh air that wasn’t littered with Chanel perfume, marijuana, or some other odor. Rounding the corner that lead to the first floor of the Freidman Art Center, I stopped in my tracks when three familiar faces appeared directly in my path and blocking me from passing.
“Adele,” Lauren Atwell greeted with the usual tight smile she’d give competition. I used to think it was genuine, but I’d learned better over the years from dancing alongside her.
Jamie Miller and Ophelia Wright were directly beside her, both looking less intimating and more welcoming than their pack leader. I gave them both small smiles, but only Jamie returned it. “Hey, Della.”
Lauren all but glared at Jamie’s kind response. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes before she caught me. “We’ve missed you at practice. There was talk that you may even be coming back.”
Talk that started because of Sophie, no doubt, but I didn’t call her out on it. “I heard the new girls are doing well. Sounds like there’s a lot of competition this year.”
Ophelia opened her mouth to speak, but Lauren cut her off. “They’re okay, but obviously not as good as the seasoned dancers. So, is it true? Are you coming back?”
Sighing, I adjusted the floral bag draped around my arm. It wasn’t as big as most backpacks I’d seen others have but held what little materials I needed for the semester. “No, it isn’t. If you don’t mind, I really need to get going.”
“Ah, yes. To the art department.” The way she said it made my eye want to twitch, but I held back. Her tone was no different than Sophie’s, and it bothered me more than I liked it to. Lauren’s opinion shouldn’t matter. Sophie was family, so the bubble of disappointment that appeared when I saw disapproval in her eye made sense. Lauren was just somebody who loved getting under my skin, and I hated that I let her so easily. “I heard you were honing your talents elsewhere. It’s a shame. I liked having actual competition.”
Jamie and Ophelia’s frowns were evident to everybody but Lauren. I was tempted to say that she had competition standing right beside her, which wouldn’t have been untrue. I did hear that Jamie had begun training harder to earn a better spot in recitals, and Ophelia always had the kind of natural talent that would take her far if she really wanted it to. Their mothers never pushed them as hard as Lauren’s did with her, so their training wasn’t as vigorous.
“Like I said,” I told her quietly, “I need to go. It was good seeing you guys.” I made a point to look at Jamie and Ophelia when I said that, giving them smiles that they both returned with head bobs.
When I sidestepped Jamie and escaped, I heard Lauren snap at them. I felt bad, but Jamie and Ophelia were old enough to decide who they wanted to be friends with. Once I stepped into the open first floor, I was immediately pulled into a hard side that smelled like lemon drops and mischief. I eyed my best friend as he grinned at me like he was innocent. “I was going to rescue you when I saw the shark enter, but Lauren scares me, and I got a papercut earlier, so she’d be able to smell my fear like blood.”
I playfully elbowed him, but he didn’t seem to care. “You fed me to her willingly then? Some friend you are.”
“Did I mention I’m sorry about the party and tell you how much I love you?”
“Yes, to both. Multiple times.” He had apologized profusely about what had happened. I told him what Theo said about being drugged, and the look on his face had told me he came to the same conclusion. One other girl had been taken to the hospital when her friends found her acting strange. Thankfully, nobody was hurt, but it made the school open an investigation that shut down the fraternity temporarily. Between the third strike they had for even throwing a party and the allegations somebody roofied drinks, it didn’t look good for them. I wasn’t sure I felt bad for them though. Jase knew they’d been warned but he held the party anyway, and even though it wasn’t his fault someone was trying to hurt women, it still happened and could have turned out way worse than it did.
“You’re also pretty,” he added, batting his lashes, and making me snort.
We walked side by side down the less packed first floor hallway, which had more room for students to mill about while they waited for classrooms to empty.
“In hindsight, I’m lucky to even be alive after the way your guard dog snapped at me. I deserved it, but I feared for my life. Definitely would rather face off with Lauren.”
“Would you stop calling Theo that?” I huffed, eyeing him for the millionth time. “It’s bad enough I kept having to defend you to him when I woke up at his place. I already told you both that you’re forgiven, and it wasn’t your fault.”
“But he still hates me, doesn’t he?”
“Theo is…”
“I get it, Del. I do. He’s the father figure you needed, so he wants you to be safe. I know that you care about him…a lot. And no matter what you say, I’m always going to feel bad about what happened. About what could have happened. Listen, word got around that it might have been Evan who drugged a few drinks that night. There’s been talk he’s done it before but…”
“He’s never gotten caught.” My stomach dropped over what that probably meant. I told him I’d suspected him considering he was following me after I turned him away. And Evan…there was something off about him that went beyond his distaste for me. “They have to kick him out, Ren. Please tell me there’s at least a
hearing or something with the council or whatever it’s called?”
“They’re voting at next week’s meeting.”
I blew out a breath. That was something. I wasn’t sure why it was taking them so long. Nobody really liked Evan from what I could tell. How hard was it to secure a vote that made sure he wouldn’t harm people?
“But.” My body froze as we stopped at the double doors that led to my salvation in form of paint fumes. “It doesn’t mean anything will happen. Talk is talk.”
“What if there was proof?”
“There isn’t. We know it. He knows it.”
I shook my head, anger boiling my blood. People like Evan got away with too much. I would know, I’d seen it happen countless times. Who was I to talk though? It was no secret that my father hadn’t gotten away with things, which should have been prime reason for people not to think their money could protect them. “He deserves to be kicked out of the frat whether there’s clear evidence or not. If plenty of people are talking about it, obviously there’s a reason.”
He dropped his arm and turned to me, his light eyes dulled. “I agree with you, but it’s not that easy. We’ll deal with him eventually, okay? You don’t need to worry about it.”
“How can I not? You know better than anybody that Evan hates me already.” I frowned, blinking at my friend with genuine concern. “There are innocent people he probably hurt, and even more he hasn’t had a chance to if nothing is done.”
“We don’t know for sure he hates you. Why would he? You’ve done nothing to him, Del. And what happens to other people isn’t on you,” he reminded me. We’d had similar conversation before, so I knew where the conversation was going. “You need to stop trying to fix the world’s problems and focus on you and yours.”
“I didn’t realize I had problems.”
He eyed me skeptically.
“Whatever,” I grumbled, pushing hair behind my ear. “Was it at least worth it?”
He blinked.
“Ben.”
A slow grin tilted his lips. “If that’s your way of asking if he’s a good kisser, I never kiss and tell.”