A Solitary Heart: Book One

Chapter Sixteen

Scandelousssss.

Chapter Sixteen

I picked through my food, my thoughts moving a million times a second. Was Graham jealous? If so, did that mean he liked me? Would he break up with Meghan for me? Don't be stupid, Mia. I shook my head and sighed, tired of the silence between us and the words that had gone unspoken tonight.

Graham obviously had the same feeling because as he finished chewing his food, he spoke, “If I were you, I'd be really pissed at Meghan. You may not think so, but a job is a really important thing and you should appreciate it while you have it.”

“I did appreciate it,” I responded, taking a sip of the water the waitress brought me when I finished my cocktail.

“Good,” he said, “To be honest, I've never had a job.”

“You haven't?”

He shook his head, “In high school my father paid for everything. And straight out of high school I went to university on a football scholarship, so there was never any need for one.”

The waitress came and took our plates and I placed my elbows on the table, resting my chin on my hands. I leaned forward subconsciously, absorbed in the conversation. “You should get one anyway. Assert your independence.”

He smiled, “You're right.”

“What would you want to be if basketball didn't have you set?” I asked curiously.

“I may seem like a sport obsessed hothead but I actually have a degree in English,” he told me.

I smiled, “I write songs and poetry sometimes.”

He leaned forward like he wanted to whisper something to me and I mimicked him, tilting forward, “Don't tell anyone, but I kind of want to write children's books.”

I smiled and reclined back in my chair, saying, “That's great.”

He flushed, “You don't think it's stupid?”

I shook my head and still smiling, I responded, “No, I think it's amazing.”

He gulped and ran his hand through his hair, his other palm open and relaxed on the table and I was tempted to grasp it and hold it in mine. “I've never told anyone that before. Well, except my dad. But he just laughed in my face and told me men don't write for kids.”

“My dad wasn't around much. He was always at sea. He loved the sea,” I divulged sentimentally, becoming fascinated with my lap as I stared down.

“I'm sorry about your dad,” I looked up and my heart melted, seeing the affection and kindness in Graham's eyes.

I took a deep breath, “Thank you.”

My attention was deviated when I thought I saw a flash from my peripheral vision. I looked around through the restaurant windows and around tables, seeing nothing.

“Did you see that?” I asked Graham after I turned back to him.

He shook his head and shrugged, “It was probably nothing.”

My brows furrowed in suspicion and I sighed, “You're probably right.”

Much to Graham's dismay, Aaron appeared at our table then, clad in his chef's outfit. “Hey guys, just came to check up on my favourite guests. How was the food?”

I smiled, “It was great, as always, Aaron. Though I did miss your special Caesar salad.” Graham rolled his eyes, as if thinking, Caesar salad is totally code for something else.