Page 58 of The Compass Series

He went back to eating his wings, clearly not wanting to push the sexual comments too far, and asked, “When did you find this place?”

“Oh gosh, it’s been years. I think I was like fifteen years old when I ran away and came here.”

“I’m sorry, what? Ran away?”

“Yeah. I was placed in a bad home for a while. I wasn’t the easiest kid to deal with, but they were cruel.

So after a night of them belittling me, I ran away.

I didn’t want to go back to a group home, either.

I didn’t know where I was going and I didn’t know what I was doing, but I packed up the few belongings I had in a backpack, and I left.

I wandered the streets for a while. I spent one night sleeping under a fire escape behind a building.

“The following day, I walked up and down this street, feeling scared and alone. Then I ran into Grant, who was standing outside the shop. He asked me if I was hungry. I was starving, so he took me in and fed me. He did the same the following week, and he allowed me to sleep in that booth right over there. He brought me blankets, pillows, and everything. He never even talked to me after the first night I showed up for food. It was like an unspoken connection.”

“That’s amazing.”

I nodded. “He was amazing. He’s the one who bought me my first comic books, actually.

After the first week passed, he spoke to me again, sat right beside me after making me chocolate chip pancakes—my favorite.

As I was shoving the food into my mouth, he said, ‘It’s time to go home.

’ I told him I didn’t have a home. He told me I needed to go back to the group home.

If I did that, he’d give me a job and send me to college.

I laughed because I’d never thought I would ever go to college.

My grades weren’t impressive, and I never really felt as if I had anything worth being driven about. I told him I didn’t believe in myself.”

“What did he say?”

I laughed lightly, looking down at the glass of water both of my hands were wrapped around. My fingers were wet from the condensation, cooling off my system as I thought about Grant. “He said it didn’t matter if I believed in myself. He’d believe in me until I learned how to do it myself.”

“And he followed through?”

“Yup. I graduate next spring because of that man. I owe him my life.”

He smiled, but then it faded a bit. “You said he was amazing…past tense.”

“Last year, he was in a bad car accident. He didn’t survive it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I couldn’t imagine.”

“He was my almost…” My voice cracked a little as I thought about Grant. “My almost family.”

“No—he was your family. He will always be your family.”

I smiled. “Thank you for saying that. Each week, I go to his grave and read him comics. It’s a weird tradition, but he’s the one who got me into comic books, and we’d always read them together.

So, I just still need to hold on to him that way and have conversations with him, even if he can’t hear me. ”

“He probably can.”

“I hope so. It’s also weird how you can randomly meet people who just so happen to change your life forever.”

He leaned forward and placed his hands on top of my hands around the glass. “You’re going to change my life, Red.” His words weren’t said in a joking manner. No, he said them so sincerely that somehow his touch was more chilled than the glass I held.

“What makes you think that?”

“You ever just get a feeling in your gut?”

“Mostly after I eat these wings. I just call it gas.”

He laughed, and the sound made me melt inside. A part of me couldn’t believe I’d spoken about gas in front of him. The other half felt as if it was completely natural. What was it about this guy? Why did it feel so easy to be myself when I sat across from him?

Without asking, he reached across to grab one of my bone-in wings, and I smacked his hand.

“What are you doing?” I yelped in horror.

“I wanted to try a wing with the bone in.”

“Well, you should’ve ordered a bone-in wing. Honestly, I silently judged you when you ordered boneless wings. In my expert experience, they aren’t wings. They are big chicken nuggets.”

“You’re a professional wing eater?”

“Yes, and don’t mock it. I wear that title with pride.”

He held his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I never mean to offend a woman and her food.”

I sat back in my chair, smiling in pleasure that he knew when to let up.

At least I thought he had. Right when I got too comfortable with his defeat, he leaned forward and swiped one of my wings from my basket.

After waving it in the air with pride, he licked it as a way to indicate I wasn’t going to get it back.

“You’re a jerk,” I said, glaring his way with the death stare.

“A jerk you’re going to love soon enough.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I’d end up choking on my chicken wing.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “At least eat it like a champ. Use my technique, and I swear to the heavens above if you leave any meat on that bone, I am coming for you.”

“But no pressure, right?” He laughed. Then he looked up at me. “Dare or dare?” he asked.

“Don’t you mean truth or dare?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to give you the chance to back out and choose truth. So, dare or dare?”

I snickered under my breath. “Hmm…I think I’ll go with dare.”

“All right. I dare you to hold eye contact with me as I strip this chicken wing.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yes, but you agreed to the dare, so here we are.”

He shimmied his Captain America pecs a bit before locking his stare with mine. Gosh, his eyes. The universe shouldn’t have ever created eyes like his. They had more power behind them than anyone should’ve ever possessed.

“I’m going to do it exactly like you did,” he warned.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He started by standing the wing straight up on his napkin and then slowly, slowly, slowly pushing the meat down the bones to capture it all at the bottom.

He then lifted the wing to his mouth and lapped up the buffalo sauce with his tongue before lowering it into the pool of ranch sitting in front of him.

He brought it back up to his mouth, cocking an eyebrow with a wicked smirk that made my thighs quiver involuntarily.

He parted his lips and slid the meat into his mouth, sucking it all off, his tongue licking the bones clean of any sauce that might’ve missed the initial entry into his mouth.

Then he placed the bones down and dipped his index finger fully into the container of ranch. Pulling it out, he allowed it to drip all over before he brought it to his mouth and sucked it slowly, sexually—and oh my goodness, I instantly became pregnant with twins.

All I wanted to do was look away and hide my schoolgirl blushing, but a dare was a dare, and I maintained that eye contact the whole time as he made my thighs quiver from eating a freaking chicken wing.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, breaking our stare after he finished sucking the wing clean. I took a big gulp of my water, trying to cool my insides from the dramatics that had taken place.

He laughed. “I think you like that about me.”

It’s true. I like that about you.

I shifted in my seat, trying to take the conversation away from the oddly sexual yet not sexual situation that had occurred. “So…” My voice cracked. “Where’s our next stop?”

He grabbed a wet nap and started cleaning his hands. “Oh, it’s a good one—a great one, actually—and it’s one-hundred-percent solely for you.”