Page 17 of Kade
He doesn’t look convinced, and the idea of him thinking what he’s thinking about my dad breaks my heart a little. I lean forward, pressing my chest into the edge of the table.
“My dad was one of the most dangerous, capable people I’ve ever met. I watched him make more than one grown man cry. But he would never hurt me. A slap on my hand once in a while though? Well, that was to make a point.” Kade looks a little less like a thundercloud, but still pushes.
“Parents shouldn’t hit kids.”
“Agreed,” I whisper. I rub my chest before asking the question I don’t think I want the answer to. “Did your parents hit you?”
He leans back against the cushion of the high booth and studies me before slowly nodding his head. “My mom hit sometimes. I didn’t know my dad.” Anger is coursing through my body. From his tone, I think his mom hit him more than sometimes. But he looks like he’s put up a brick wall. Still, I can’t help digging a little.
“Why did your dad leave?” I don’t like the smile that comes over his face. It looks old and tired.
“My mom didn’t tell me much about him.” He shrugs. “Knowing the type of men she went for, I doubt I’m missing much.”
“My mom bailed when I was little, too.” It’s a shitty thing to have in common.
“Did you ever meet her?” he asks with a frown.
The arrival of our pizza saves me from answering. I don’t really want to talk about my mom with my hot boss. My stomach lets out an embarrassing growl as Sue sets the pizza down in front of us. Pretty sure Kade heard that. I look up at the waitress.
“Sue, you’re an angel. This looks amazing!”
She leaves us with a kind smile, and I waste no time diving in, pulling three slices off, cheese stretching from the pan to my plate. I bring the full plate to my face, inhaling the intoxicating blend of tomato and spice and ooey, gooey cheese.
“Oh sweet Baby Jesus, that’s the best smell in the world.”
Kade’s snort briefly distracts me from the amazingness on my plate. I shoot him a grin before focusing back on my pizza.
“Dude, you better dig in. I’m not some delicate little woman. I ate a whole large pizza once on a dare. And I don’t mind trying again. I didn’t get this ass eating salad.”
He shakes his head at me with a reluctant smile before sliding a few slices on his plate. We’re both silent, busy inhaling our supper. After my second slice, enough to partially satisfy my growling stomach, I stop to watch Kade eat, trying not to stare. He’s eating the way most athletes I’ve met do. Big bites. Barely chews. Too hungry to stop and appreciate the food in front of him.
As I’m watching, he stops to pull an olive off and drops it on his plate to join the others already there before polishing off the slice. Huh. I rest my chin in my hand and study him openly. His eyes catch mine as he’s reaching for another slice.
“What?” he asks with a frown. I study him for another minute.
“You don’t like olives.”
“No.”
“Huh.” That’s telling.
Kade’s frown deepens. “What?”
“Why didn’t you ask for no olives then?”
“Cause I can pick the little motherfuckers off.”
I smile but keep pushing. “Yeah. You’re doing a great job of it, too.”
Kade raises his eyebrows. “Why are we talking about this?”
I shrug. “It’s just interesting.”
The tick is back in his jaw. “Interesting? Olives are interesting?”
I shake my head. “No. Olives are delicious little salty pieces of heaven. What’s interesting is you telling me to order and not speaking up for what you want.” Kade’s shaking his head again, looking completely baffled.
“It’s fucking pizza, Becca. Again, why the fuck are we talking about this?”
