The Eleventh Hour

Chapter 19

*This chapter has explicit sexual content.*

 

He’d taken me to a lovely little Italian restaurant.

I was currently tucking in to a spaghetti carbonara – quite possibly the best one I’d ever had, it even beat my dad’s, and he was a mean cook. Nathaniel had this weird pasta dish I didn’t know of, or know the look of. We were eating in silence as a thought suddenly occurred to me.

“So, who was that guy you were with yesterday? Jacob, was it?”

I saw him blink several times but he didn’t look up from his plate. “He’s my brother.”

“Thought so,” I muttered to myself quietly.

“Excuse me?”

I looked up at him to see he’d placed down his fork, and was eyeing me with interest.

“You have a resemblance,” I said, feeling rather shy all of a sudden. “It’s the eyes, I think.”

He leaned his head back slightly, as his narrowed eyes gleamed. “You haven’t come up with a nickname for him as well, have you?” He picked his fork back up and smiled wickedly, before taking a sip of his wine.

The breath caught in my throat as I tried not to choke on his words. I can’t believe he still remembered his nickname.

“No.” I grumbled down at my food.

“We’re different, but alike.”

I looked back up at him to see his eyes still on me, wariness tightening his gaze. What did he look so worried about?

 “Do you have any other siblings?”

He shook his head. “Both my parents come from big families though, I have lots of cousins.” He pulled a face which made me smile. Something tells me he wasn’t exactly an extended family man.

“What do your parents do?”

“They’re both plastic surgeons. They travel to and from LA a lot. They own their own practice there together.”

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. I had the strong urge to smile excitedly, I’m glad he had a good upbringing.

He leaned back once more and conveyed me, his eyes turning quizzical. “What about your family?”

I took a big bite of the spaghetti before answering. “My parents were both teachers, nothing too fancy.” I muttered. “But my dad compiles crossword puzzles for some of the big English newspapers, too. And my mum’s always wanted to own her own restaurant.” I rolled my eyes. My mum was crazy.

He raised his eyebrows as his face lit up with mild amusement. “She does? What kind of restaurant?”

“Uh, a British type one, I think. Though I doubt it’s going to happen. She has a very vivid imagination.” I smiled and shook my head as I thought about her increasing ambitions.

“How come your mom and dad went into retirement so early?” He asked. He sounded genuinely interested.

I sighed as I thought about it. “I think they just wanted to get away.” I answered truthfully. “They worked really hard for thirty years, built themselves a strong, steady pension. I suppose I can’t really blame them.” I admitted, pursing my lips and keeping my eyes down. I’d noticed my shoulders had sagged as I spoke about it. I guess I just missed them too much.

“I don’t blame them, either.” He said, and I willed my eyes back to look at him. He looked like he was deep in thought. I cleared my throat and changed the subject.