"So let me get this straight," I swirl my drink and look up at him with a lifted brow. "Your younger sister, who you haven't seen in over six years, has suddenly reappeared?"
"Yup."
"But goes by a different name now, and has no idea who you are..."
"Pretty much."
"And after saving her from some knockoff version of Kera's triangle of glittering death, she started to develop a crush on you?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Wow, and I thought my family situation was complicated."
"I'm sorry to break this to you, but you have nothing on me."
"I may have more up my sleeve than you're aware of," I challenge, thinking about the incomplete birth certificate I found pasted on my window a few days ago, cut off before the part showing my biological parents' names, their respective gene statuses, and, based on that, my predetermined gene status.
"So do I."
My eyes narrow slightly. Then my lips curl into a devious grin. "We're practically a match made in screwed up heaven." I wink.
"Yes, it does seem like the Big Guy was having particularly off days when he created us. It's like we were meant to be." He throws a wink back at me as he raises his mug to his lips.
There's a question itching on my tongue. I finally decide to bite the bullet and spit it out.
"So..." I clear my throat, "am I supposed to be your girlfriend now?"
He nearly chokes on his drink. Quickly placing his cup back down on the coaster, he squirms in his seat and pulls at his still slightly wet collar nervously.
"Well... I mean, I guess I shouldn't have assumed, I'm sorry. But... ah... w-would you... Would you want to be... my girlfriend?"
I take my time to answer. "I'll have to think about it first..." I finally say evasively, eyes drifting away, pretending as if my mind isn't already clearly made up.
The way his head shoots up and his eyes bear into mine with such intense despair makes me want to tear up and snort out into laughter at the same time.
His voice is strained as he speaks, "O-Of course... Take as much time as you nee—"
"Thought process over. Now do I get like a mug or keychain or something that proves you're my boyfriend? Personally I'd prefer a keychain." I tilt my head to the side and shoot him a small-eyed smile.
He releases the breath he seemed to have been holding, running his hands repeatedly through his tousled hair. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack right there."
"Not on my watch. Then I would've lost the one source holding the secret to melting Albert's heart of ice."
"Well, you managed to melt mine, so you should be a top level expert in the field," he replies with a lopsided smile.
My heart didn't flutter when he said that. No, it didn't. Nope. Not at all. I'm not blushing uncontrollably right now, even though my face does feel exceptionally warm. It must be the heating up here.
Damnit, you traitorous heart.
"Okay, Mr Smooth-Talker, spill. Even this 'top level expert' hasn't managed to crack the code that is my grouchy, stingy boss who makes me use the bathroom in the next building to save on water bills. But somehow you've managed to get so much on his good side that you get free drinks. So, what's your secret? Black magic charms?"
He shrugs. "Close, but not quite."
Sterling takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, looking down at his hands on his lap pensively.
"A few years ago, Al's wife was diagnosed with end-stage liver disease, and was in critical need of a liver transplant. Most hospitals have the disgusting practice of not organizing the waiting list for liver transplant based on severity of the patients' disease, but by gene status. Judy had the risk of death if she didn't receive a transplant within one month, yet she continued to get pushed down the waiting list while Borders and Perfects who didn't need transplants nearly as urgently were walking out with their newly 3-D printed livers." I can tell he's getting aggravated by how he pauses and clenches his jaw every few sentences, and the intimidating yet sexy vein I'd named Angry Alvein has made an appearance on his neck.
I get why he would be pissed recalling this story. Just hearing it, my own hands clench tightly into fists on the table.
"I let him register under my name so she'd be on the priority list. It doesn't hurt that the hospital she was admitted to is owned by Crawford Foundation. Within two days she was scheduled for a transplant."
"So that's why Albert loves you so much and gives you free drinks..."
"Well... they're not exactly free... I did pay for them... in advance," he says shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"What do you mean?"
He purses his lips together and looks away, seeming hesitant to answer. After twenty seconds of stalling, he finally divulges, "After she was scheduled for the surgery, they were still short of about 100K, so I... ordered ten-thousand cups of coffee to bridge the gap."
My mouth drops open and I lift my eyebrows off my forehead. "There's no humanly possible way you'd ever be able to finish claiming all those cups of coffee."
Sterling reaches forward and pokes my nose lightly. "That's the point, sweetheart."
I stare at him with my head cocked to the side, and he looks back at me affectionately.
This boy is nothing like he seems. Every time I think I've more or less figured him out, he reveals another layer that I never expected, and makes me fall in even deeper than I already am. It's like I willingly dived into quicksand, where every day I sink in a little further, without realizing the consequences of my foolish actions. It didn't occur to me that there wouldn't be an emergency escape route even if I begged for one later.
His eyes, those sparkling eyes, they're so mesmerizing that as soon as I make contact I'm put under a spell that I have to fight so hard to resist. Right now, they're resting in a calm shade of pale green-grey as they caress over my features, his long eyelashes fluttering with every blink.
Out of the blue, he chuckles, and brings his hand towards my face, holding onto my chin while gently wiping cream off my lips with his calloused thumb.
"You know," my eyes dart away from those two magnetic pools to my drink in my hand. "The more time I spend with you, the more I'm convinced that you're not at all the type of person that people think you are: someone cold and aloof, who starts fights for no reason, and beats up other people for fun. I used to be a little afraid of you, because of what I'd heard, about what happened with Parker James..." My eyes flicker back up to his, which are still staring directly back at me. "But now that I've figured out the real side of you that no one else sees, I want to know the real side of the story that no one else has heard. I know you wouldn't have started a fight with Parker James for no reason. Whether or not that reason is valid is another thing altogether, but I know you definitely have one."
He breathes a deep sigh, and his eyebrows knit together, though his face retains a small smile. There's a hint of sadness behind it.
My right hand slides smoothly across the table, finding his large one. I snake my fingers through his, and squeeze gently, looking at him with a warm gaze as I ask softly, "What is it?"