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Authors: Lauren Sabel
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front of me, and puts a glass of boiled water beside it. “You’ll love it.”
Love it? When did I last love food? It’s been years since I’ve thought about anything other than the calorie count.
I grab the glass of water with both hands and drink it in one big gulp. “My ex-boyfriend never would have let me eat this,” I admit. “It has too many calories.”
“Sounds like a jerk,” Nick says.
“You don’t know the half of it.” It’s embarrassing to talk about, but for some reason, I do. “My boyfriend dumped me for my best friend. In front of a lot of people.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I hate him.”
Nick’s eyes narrow into little slits. “Want me to kill him for you?”
Yes. Absolutely. I shake my head. Nick pushes away his empty plate and inches nearer to me, so close I can almost feel the heat on his skin.
With his body so close to mine, I’m so nervous I’m shaking. “What about you?” I ask, stumbling over my words. “When did you . . . um . . . graduate?” I sound like an idiot.
“Last year,” Nick says. “From an American high school in Mexico City.”
“Why an American school?”
“My godfather sent me there when I was thirteen.” Nick rolls his eyes. “He said I needed to learn English to run his company.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Lot of good it’s done me. Now I work as a courier for my godfather’s company, just shuttling boxes around. But I owe him,” he adds.
“For what?”
“He paid for my education from prison,” Nick says. “ Fifteen years for tax evasion.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Just to scare people into paying their taxes. ‘But that’s the government for you,’ my mom used to say.”
“Used to?”
Nick looks away, suddenly too busy clearing our dishes to answer.
“Nick? What do you mean by ‘used to’?”
Shaking his head, Nick turns the sink handle and drops our dishes into the basin, the ceramic clattering together before sinking into the water completely.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Did I say something wrong, or does he not want to talk to me?
“You’re just not at all what I would expect,” Nick says, turning around to look at me.
What? Instantly pissed off, I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “What do you mean by ‘expect’?”
Nick blushes. “From an American lost in the wilderness with only a stranger to keep her company.”
Good answer. “Are you still a stranger then?”
But as his lips curl into a grin, I realize that he is still a stranger. And as much as I want to tell him the truth about me, I can’t. I’ve probably told him too much already. If he were to tell anybody who I am, I’d risk both our lives. Besides, I kind of like being anonymous. All my life, people have liked me because I’m famous, because I’m a Divine. But I think Nick’s even beginning to like me—for myself.
Chapter Nine
I SWEAR I’ VE BEEN ASLEEP on the couch for only two minutes when I jolt awake, the house drenched in sunshine. Dust motes swim through the air, floating from sunbeam to sunbeam. I’m wrapped in a rainbow-patterned blanket, and Nick’s pulled a wool hat over my head.
When I walk into the kitchen, Nick’s wearing his white undershirt with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair is dripping wet and curling into damp ringlets on his forehead. Wow .
It hits me that I didn’t lie awake last night, terrified of falling asleep to bad dreams; I just lay down and went to sleep, listening to Nick’s steady breathing.
“So where’s your cousin?” I ask with a slight smile.
“He never came home,” Nick says, and the half smile dies on my face. “Let’s wait a bit. He’s gotta come home before work,” he continues, handing me a glass of boiled water. “If you wanna take a shower, it’s in there.”
I down the tall glass of warm water and step into the small, tidy bathroom. It’s the complete opposite of Pierre’s bathroom, which is stuffed with expensive colognes
Love it? When did I last love food? It’s been years since I’ve thought about anything other than the calorie count.
I grab the glass of water with both hands and drink it in one big gulp. “My ex-boyfriend never would have let me eat this,” I admit. “It has too many calories.”
“Sounds like a jerk,” Nick says.
“You don’t know the half of it.” It’s embarrassing to talk about, but for some reason, I do. “My boyfriend dumped me for my best friend. In front of a lot of people.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. I hate him.”
Nick’s eyes narrow into little slits. “Want me to kill him for you?”
Yes. Absolutely. I shake my head. Nick pushes away his empty plate and inches nearer to me, so close I can almost feel the heat on his skin.
With his body so close to mine, I’m so nervous I’m shaking. “What about you?” I ask, stumbling over my words. “When did you . . . um . . . graduate?” I sound like an idiot.
“Last year,” Nick says. “From an American high school in Mexico City.”
“Why an American school?”
“My godfather sent me there when I was thirteen.” Nick rolls his eyes. “He said I needed to learn English to run his company.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Lot of good it’s done me. Now I work as a courier for my godfather’s company, just shuttling boxes around. But I owe him,” he adds.
“For what?”
“He paid for my education from prison,” Nick says. “ Fifteen years for tax evasion.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Just to scare people into paying their taxes. ‘But that’s the government for you,’ my mom used to say.”
“Used to?”
Nick looks away, suddenly too busy clearing our dishes to answer.
“Nick? What do you mean by ‘used to’?”
Shaking his head, Nick turns the sink handle and drops our dishes into the basin, the ceramic clattering together before sinking into the water completely.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Did I say something wrong, or does he not want to talk to me?
“You’re just not at all what I would expect,” Nick says, turning around to look at me.
What? Instantly pissed off, I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “What do you mean by ‘expect’?”
Nick blushes. “From an American lost in the wilderness with only a stranger to keep her company.”
Good answer. “Are you still a stranger then?”
But as his lips curl into a grin, I realize that he is still a stranger. And as much as I want to tell him the truth about me, I can’t. I’ve probably told him too much already. If he were to tell anybody who I am, I’d risk both our lives. Besides, I kind of like being anonymous. All my life, people have liked me because I’m famous, because I’m a Divine. But I think Nick’s even beginning to like me—for myself.
Chapter Nine
I SWEAR I’ VE BEEN ASLEEP on the couch for only two minutes when I jolt awake, the house drenched in sunshine. Dust motes swim through the air, floating from sunbeam to sunbeam. I’m wrapped in a rainbow-patterned blanket, and Nick’s pulled a wool hat over my head.
When I walk into the kitchen, Nick’s wearing his white undershirt with just a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair is dripping wet and curling into damp ringlets on his forehead. Wow .
It hits me that I didn’t lie awake last night, terrified of falling asleep to bad dreams; I just lay down and went to sleep, listening to Nick’s steady breathing.
“So where’s your cousin?” I ask with a slight smile.
“He never came home,” Nick says, and the half smile dies on my face. “Let’s wait a bit. He’s gotta come home before work,” he continues, handing me a glass of boiled water. “If you wanna take a shower, it’s in there.”
I down the tall glass of warm water and step into the small, tidy bathroom. It’s the complete opposite of Pierre’s bathroom, which is stuffed with expensive colognes
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