I was in love with her because she was pure grace.

She had a way of hypnotising me, calming my dismal thoughts, and anchoring me firmly in the moment. She was so fucking good for me. A medicine I needed to take for the rest of my life. She had no idea the power she held over me just by being her.

I feared the day when she learned how deep I’d fallen.

Would she fall with me...or would she pirouette into a future I wasn’t permitted to join?

Companionable silence fell as she pulled ingredients from the pantry. Her feet glided, her head swayed to an unheard beat, her wrists and fingers twitched and arched like delicate swans.

My heart pounded with affection, lust, and a terrifying amount of awe as she cracked eggs, beat batter, and spooned indulgent sized pancakes into a sizzling pan.

She put on a performance just for me.

The second the sweet scents of dessert met my nose, my mouth watered profusely.

It was embarrassing how my body reacted around food.

I was used to the gnawing emptiness in my belly, followed by the over fullness of stuffing my face once a day.

I’d eaten a few hours ago. I was used to not eating again until tomorrow, but what Olin created was fluffy maple syrup magic, and I swallowed thickly as she placed a plate with two round discs covered in icing sugar and dripping in syrup before me.

Her eyes lingered on me as she nudged a knife and fork in my direction.

I did my best not to snatch them like a rabid animal.

All I wanted to do was devour the food she’d cooked for me. The first meal anyone had ever cooked for me. But I forced myself to keep my hands locked on my lap, smile stiffly, and ignore the plate. I did my best to be like the other boys, nonchalant and lazy, as if being fed by the girl I wanted more than anyone wasn’t a big deal.

It’s a big fucking deal.

“You’re like a leaf.” I looked up, cursing the long hair catching on my eyelashes. “When you move, you look like a leaf caught in a breeze.”

She sucked in a gasp.

Our eyes snagged and held. Something endlessly painful sucker-punched me in the chest. An emotion that bypassed teenage flirting and went straight into forever claiming.

I scrambled to delete the sudden awkwardness. “I just meant, watching you cook was the highlight of my day. You’re so pretty.”

She beamed; the pretty blush that always appeared around me turned her cheeks rosy. “You like watching me?”

I laughed darkly. “You know I do.”

I’d told her that. Plus, she’d caught me gawking at her more than once. My fascination with her was obvious.

Her eyelashes fluttered. “Why do you like watching me?”

It was my turn to blush. “Eh, no reason.”

“No reason?” She pouted adorably. “Come on, there must be a reason.” Her lips turned up as her eyes sparkled. “How about I go first?”

My muscles seized. “Y-you watch me?”

Shit, what had she seen? How bad had I been?

She bit her bottom lip, nodding. “All the time. I can’t stop looking at you.”

Fear crawled down my spine. “If you’ve watched me, why are you still here? Why haven’t you run away screaming yet?”

Her face fell. “You act as if I won’t want to be your friend the more I get to know you.”

“You won’t.”

She sighed softly. “You’re wrong, you know. That can’t ever happen.”

I looked at my plate, unable to hold her stare. I daren’t indulge in the quick kick of hope in my heart. Could she feel a tenth of what I did? Could I keep her, regardless of who I was?

More batter sizzled in the pan as Olin murmured, “You can’t scare me away, you know. I see more than you think. I like watching you, Gilbert Clark, because everything you do is assessed, deliberated, and completed with utmost dedication. You don’t waste energy on things that aren’t important. You’re precise and concentrate harder than anyone I know. And if I’m honest, you’re kind of scary with how focused you are when you put your mind to it.”

“I scare you?” My heart no longer nursed hope but hurt.

“Not anymore. Not now I know you.” She looked at me pointedly. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you, so you might as well get used to having me around.”

“I love having you around.” I froze.

Shit.

She smiled. “I’m glad.”

Our eyes locked again, and goosebumps shot beneath my clothes. I wanted to go to her. To ask if she liked me enough to kiss me. But I lived with whores. Kisses weren’t given willingly most of the time. And I would never, ever take something from Olin that she didn’t want me to have.

Olin looked away first, her voice wobbling a little. “Anyway, tuck in.” She flipped the pancake, expertly landing it in the centre of the pan. A skill that said she’d cooked far more than other kids, from necessity not because of hobbies. “Eat while it’s hot.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Don’t.” Her gaze met mine again, this time not with naked vulnerability but concern and far too much knowing. She knew what food meant to me. She knew more about me than I’d told her because that was who she was, empathetic and intelligent, putting pieces together to make a whole.

I shifted uncomfortably on the stool, wishing I was better for her.

“Please, Gil...eat. I know...I know you don’t get many meals.”

The sugary smell suddenly made me feel sick. “I’m not hungry.” I didn’t know why pride raised its ugly head. Why it made me so short-tempered.

It made me all too aware of how little I had to offer her. Maybe her friendship was charity, after all? She’d do that. She’d be nice enough to hang out with me if she thought I was lonely.

Bullshit. She likes you, Clark. You just have to man up and accept that, instead of looking for ways to sabotage it.

Flipping the pancake one last time, she turned the element off, then selected a plate for herself. Her motions were smooth and dancing-sensual, but her face shadowed with worry.

Bringing her own snack to sit beside me at the breakfast bar, she cut into the fluffy circle and placed a small bit on her tongue.

She chewed for a moment before turning to face me.

I wanted to run. I wanted to tell her she didn’t know me when she obviously did. I needed the pity in her eyes to go away.

Icing sugar dusted her bottom lip as she hesitantly reached across and placed her hand on my thigh.

I stiffened.

My blood heated.

My body hardened.

I squeezed my eyes and fought back a tattered groan.

She didn’t speak for the longest moment. A moment where I struggled not to grab her. A moment where I lived in a fantasy of carrying her upstairs, finding the closest bed, and learning how sweet her tongue was after eating delicious pancakes.

“I know you might hate me for saying this...but I know, Gil.”

I kept my eyes closed, unable to meet her stare.

Her fingers dug deeper into my thigh. “I know you’re beaten at home. I know you don’t eat much. I know you don’t like leaving school. I know—”

My hand landed over hers, squeezing the delicate bones of her fingers. “Stop.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t because if I do, I don’t know if you’ll come back. And I really, really want you to come back.” She didn’t complain as my hand crushed hers. She just continued in her melodic, perfect voice. “You said the first day we talked in the corridor that telling a secret makes us friends. I told you mine, and you’ve become so important to me these past few months. Do you....perhaps...want to share another one with me?”

I struggled to open my eyes and look at her. My heart flew like a wounded bird, crashing against my ribs, breaking a wing, desperate for help but terrified of it at the same time.

I diverted her attention away from my secrets. “Why...why am I important to you?”

She smiled shyly. “Many reasons.”