Pictures of Palermo, Sicily decorate the walls in the small eatery. There’s a counter to the right and a few wooden tables placed around for customers who prefer to stay and indulge. Looking over to her to give her a you good look, I can tell she’s uneasy. Then it hits me: She’s the only girl in here.
I’m distracted by a loud voice coming from my right. “Hey, Tony! I told ya...you leave this door open long enough anyone can walk in!” Mario appears behind the counter, barking to the back of the pizzeria. Keeping an eye on me, he cackles—his round Italian belly bouncing the entire time.
I flip him the bird. “Shut up, old man. You still holdin’ a grudge against me for wiping the table with you in Hold ’em last month?”
He waves me off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s because my brother’s the kiss of death. He takes one look at my hand, and that’s it. Instant malocchio.” He throws a rag over his shoulder. “And who do we have here?” he gestures to Cameron.
“Mario, this is Nyx.” I gesture between them. “Nyx, Mario. He’s the worst poker player in the borough, but he makes the best fucking pizza.”
“Cameron,” she corrects my name for her from behind me and waves at him. I don’t give up that easily, though.
Mario looks at me and raises an eyebrow, smirking. Silently telling me I’m in big trouble.
Ain’t that the truth.
Clapping my hands together, I instruct, “Enough with the introductions. Get us the usual, per favore.”
Turning to Cam, I give her a look, begging her to trust me. Then it hits me. “You don’t have any food allergies, do you?” Because the last thing I wanna do is kill her.
She shakes her head no, so I nod to Mario, and he gets to work.
I walk Cameron over to a small table far away from the guys because I know they’re making her uncomfortable. Pulling out her chair, she just stares blankly at me.
“This is when you sit down.” I point to the seat I’m holding for her because at this point, I’m honestly not sure she knows what this gesture means.
“Uh, yeah, thanks.” She tucks her hair away and gives me an obligatory smile.
Cam sits down. I push her chair in from behind her, and as she stiffens, a painful thought surfaces. I become all too aware that someone must have really hurt her, broke her down so much she can’t even accept an act of kindness without being skeptical.
Suddenly, I have the urge to find whoever it is and send them off to meet their maker.
I sit across from her, hoping this meal goes smoothly. I feel like those walls she’s built up so high can go back up at any second.
The walls I’m so desperate to weaken, and eventually, send crashing to the ground.
Ten
Cameron
Okay, Jaxon was right. This pizza is amazing. After receiving our pie, we spent the first five minutes mostly silent, with the occasional satisfied groan. The cheesy slice had the perfect amount of tomato sauce and melted mozzarella goodness. I hadn’t thought combining meatballs and sausage would work, but both flavors brought a heartiness and feeling of comfort to it I never expected to enjoy. After we ate enough to feel the hunger subside, we began to talk.
Jaxon explained how he moved to Coney Island two years ago and his boss took him under his wing and gave him a place to stay. I felt terrible when he told me this man lost his wife when she gave birth to their son.
We kept the conversation pretty casual after that. I talked mostly about my favorite musicians and explained how I always wanted to open up a music store. Surprisingly, the conversation flowed very naturally between us. I even laughed when he told me how Magnet would always try to steal his peanut butter sandwiches. Which happens to be Jaxon’s favorite.
When he poked or prodded about my life, I kept most of my answers short. I didn’t lie, I told him I was estranged from my mother and recently severed ties with my dad. I kept the details to a bare minimum.
Never diving below the surface of what keeps me grounded and securely hidden.
He never pushed, which I’m grateful for. I can’t believe I’m actually enjoying myself. When Jaxon leaned over to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear...flutters erupted inside me, and my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t cower away. Instead, I found myself leaning into his touch when his fingers lingered by the side of my face longer than they should have.
Although it makes me a bit uneasy to feel this way, I realize there are things Jaxon does to me that nobody else would ever get close enough to attempt.
Even though my body still protests his advances, my insides are reaching out and holding tight to whatever part of him they can. It’s like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long. My soul was desperate to take him in.
I steal a glance his way now as he throws a piece of meatball up and catches it in his mouth. He seems so carefree that a part of me envies him. Taking another bite of his slice, I hear, “So tell me something I don’t know about you.” I stop myself from taking my own bite and look at him. With a mouth full of sausage and pizza, he awaits my answer.
He doesn’t really know anything about me, so I find it refreshing that he understands my reluctance to share. He allows me to decide what I’m comfortable with divulging. Jaxon doesn’t ask anything too particular but still shows he’s interested in who I am.
The words fly out of my mouth before I even realize I’m saying them.
“I like to sing.”
My mouth falls open in shock. I
