“Here! Try this; it’s amazing!” I dropped a glistening piece straight into his bowl.
Lucien frowned. “No.” His tone was firm, though his gaze lingered briefly on the piece in his bowl.
“Don’t be picky! These garlic scapes are fantastic-so tender!” I cheerfully plopped a forkful of them in front of him.
“No.” The word was flat, but his Adam’s apple twitched almost imperceptibly.
“Come on, Lucien. Try the fried Foccacia in the hummus!” With bright-eyed enthusiasm, I offered the most significant piece of the fried bread.
“Take it away.” Lucien finally picked up his fork, but his movement was oddly slow, as if waiting.
Just before he touched the piece, I shoved it onto his plate.
“Go on, dip it into the hummus. Try it, Lucien!”
Lucien shot me a glare. But he didn’t push it away.
He stared down at the little mountain of food I had begun to pile on his plate, silent for a few seconds.
My cheeks were bulging with food, and I urged him on with a muffled voice, “Come on, eat! It won’t taste good cold!”
Lucien’s fork finally moved. With a faint, reluctant sigh, he picked up the piece of roasted crimini, toasted in a sunflower puree with pickled raisins and ate it.
His manner stayed elegant, but his brows seemed to relax, just slightly.
Encouraged, I aimed my fork at him again. “Here, the best part!”
Lucien wordlessly ate it.
My eyes lit up. I instantly scooped a small helping of roasted carrots with Israeli couscous and pickled hill lemons onto his plate next. “This is fantastic, too!”
This time, his fork intercepted midair, turning deftly to drop the scoop of food back into my own bowl.
“Eat it yourself, Claire.”
I pouted slightly but obeyed, burying myself in the mountain of food until my belly begged me to stop eating and my cheeks flushed pink, realizing how much I had eaten.
When I licked a smear of garlic-infused oils from my lip and looked up, my gaze collided with Lucien’s.
At some point, he had set his fork down. His eyes were fixed on my face, focused and unreadable.
The air thickened.
My heart pounded as I swallowed hard in nervousness. I ducked my head, wishing I could crawl under the table and hide. His stare was that of a hungry wolf, and I was the lost little lamb.
“Are you full enough?” Lucien’s deep voice broke the silence.
“Mm! Too full, to be honest. This place is great, I’d never been here before.” I bobbed my head like a pecking chick
When we left, the night breeze cooled my heated cheeks.
We matched each other’s pace, slow and deliberate strides towards the parked car.
Back in the car, I sat straight, pretending to focus on the shifting city lights when in reality, I was trying to control my thoughts. This was a side of Lucien I’d not seen since we were kids, and I missed the comfort and warmth of him by my side.
I haven’t felt this safe for a long time.
“By the way,” Lucien’s voice came out of nowhere, low and casual, “despite what others think, do not call me brother. We are not siblings.”
My heart lurched. I turned to him sharply. “Huh? I hadn’t thought about it until Liam mentioned it, I guess we are technically-”
“Enough! That piece of s**t was wrong in his words. I do not recognize you as my sibling, so do not call me that, ever. You can call me whatever you want, but that!”
The car fell into heavy silence.
Only my heartbeat thundered in my ears. His words echoed in my head, again and again.
Why? I wondered.
Wasn’t Liam right in his assessment? We were technically registered as family because of our parents’ marriage of convenience? Why was he so against it? It couldn’t be because he still hated me. I refused to believe that any longer.
The car carried my tangled thoughts into the neon-lit sea of the city.
Suddenly, the shrill ring of a phone shattered the silence. Lucien raised a hand and answered.
Whatever the caller said, his brows snapped tight, his face drawn taut.
“Why should I go? I did not agree to this!”

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