Theo is relieved I’m ribbing him. “I’m so glad you decided to be a chef and not a therapist. You suck at advice.”
“I take offense to that. I give good advice.”
“Okay, Atlas. Whatever you say.” He seems to loosen up. He follows me as I head back to my station. “Did you ask Lily out on a date when you went to her work?”
“No. I will tonight. I’m calling her when I get home.” I walk by Theo and ruffle his hair on my way to the freezer.
“Hey, Atlas?”
I pause. His eyes are filled with concern, but one of the waiters pushes through the doors and walks between us, preventing Theo from saying whatever it was he was about to say. He doesn’t have to say it, though.
“Not saying a word, Theo. Client confidentiality goes both ways.”
That seems to reassure him. “Good, because if you said something to my dad, I would tell him how cheesy you are with your pickup lines.” Theo mockingly presses his palms to his cheeks. “We finally reached the beach, my little whale.”
I glare at him. “That’s not at all how it went.”
Theo points across the kitchen. “Look! It’s sand—we’ve reached land!”
“Stop.”
“Lily, what the heck, our boat is wrecked!”
He’s still following me around the kitchen making fun of me when his dad’s shift ends. I’ve never been happier to see him leave.
Chapter Eight Lily
It’s almost 9:30 at night, and I have no missed calls. Emerson has been asleep for an hour and a half, and she’s usually awake by six in the morning. I go to bed around ten because if I don’t get at least eight hours of sleep, I function at the capacity of a zombie. But if Atlas doesn’t call before ten, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep at all. I’ll wonder if I should have apologized seventy more times for hiding him in a closet today.
I walk to the bathroom sink to start my nightly skin-care routine, and I take my phone with me. I’ve carried it with me every step since he showed up at lunchtime today and told me he’d call me tonight. I should have clarified what tonight meant.
To Atlas, tonight could mean eleven.
To me, it could mean eight.
We probably have two completely different definitions for what morning and night even mean. He’s a successful chef who gets home to unwind after midnight, and I’m in my pajamas by seven in the evening.
My phone makes a noise, but it isn’t a ringtone. It’s making a noise like someone is trying to FaceTime me.
Please don’t be Atlas.
I am not prepared for a video chat; I just put face scrub on. I look at the phone and sure enough, it’s him.
I answer it and quickly flip the phone around so that he can’t see me. I leave it on my sink while I speed up the cleansing process. “You asked if you could call me. This is a video chat.”
I hear him laugh. “I can’t see you.”
“Yeah, because I’m washing my face and getting ready for bed. You don’t need to see me.”
“Yes, I do, Lily.”
His voice makes my skin feel tingly. I flip the camera around and hold it up with an I told you so expression. My wet hair is still wrapped in a towel, I’m wearing a nightgown my grandmother probably used to own, and my face is still covered in green foam.
His smile is fluid and sexy. He’s sitting up in bed, wearing a white T-shirt, leaning against a black wooden headboard. The one time I went to his house, I never went into his bedroom. His wall is blue, like denim.
“This was definitely worth the decision to video-chat,” he says.
I set the phone back down, facing me this time, and finish rinsing. “Thanks for lunch today.” I don’t want to give him too much praise, but it was the best pasta I’ve ever had. And it was two hours old before I even had a chance to take a lunch break and eat it.
“You liked the why are you avoiding me pasta?”
“You know it was great.” I walk to my bed once I’m finished in the bathroom. I prop my phone on a pillow and lie on my side. “How was your day?”
“It was good,” he says, but he’s not very convincing with the way his voice drops on the word good.
I make a face to let him know I don’t believe him.
He looks away from the screen for a second, like he’s processing a thought. “It’s just one of those weeks, Lily. It’s better now, though.” His mouth curls into a slight grin, and it makes me smile, too.
I don’t even have to make small talk. I’d be happy just staring at him in complete silence for an hour.