Damian by Jessica Wood Read Free Book Online Page A

close enough.” We both broke into a fit of laughter.
    As the laughter died down, there was a split second of awkward silence, and I looked away from him, unable to withstand gazing into his intense, rich blue eyes any longer. The second of silence seemed to drag on, and I could heard the pounding of my heartbeat against my chest. Can he hear that?
    “You know, you should really learn how to eat sushi with chopsticks,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
    I let out of sigh of relief and then laughed. “I think my fork has worked well for me,” I challenged.
    “Oh, come on. I thought you were more adventurous now. Try it with chopsticks like how they’re intended to be eaten.”
    I looked at him with reluctance, and he gave me another dazzling smile.
    “For me?” he pleaded.
    I gave an exaggerated eye roll to show that I wasn’t impressed or affected by his charm. But in reality, I found it beyond difficult to say no to him.
    “Fine,” I said, sounding exasperated, “I’ll take one for the team.”
    And for the next half hour, Damian showed me how to eat sushi with chopsticks and watched as I painstakingly ate the rest of the sushi without the use of my fork or hands.
    “Thanks for that last thirty minutes of entertainment,” he teased as he watched me pick up the pieces of rice and sushi bits that had inevitably fallen onto the floor on their way to my mouth.
    I made a face. “I didn’t realize that I’d be working for my dinner.”
    He laughed as he got up to throw the sushi containers in the trash bin the kitchen. On his way back from the kitchen, he walked past my dresser that stood next to my bed and picked up the lone photo frame I had on the dresser.
    “Is this you? And your mom?” He looked up from the photo and then at me.
    “Yeah, it’s me and my mom.” I smiled at the memory behind that photo. “It was my first time in front of the pottery wheel and my mom was teaching me how to center the clay that day,” I closed my eyes and tried to remember as much detail as I could from that moment.
    “She’s pretty. You both are.” His voice was surprisingly soft, and I opened my eyes and met his. His rich blue eyes were soft and warm, and at that moment, it wasn’t the same Damian I had seen at the stairs or the same Damian I had seen at the bar. At that moment, I saw a different side of him that I had never expected would exist. Can he really have room for feelings inside him?
    “Thanks. She was,” I said softly. I quickly looked away to hide the moisture that appeared in my eyes.
    “Oh. Sorry. I…I didn’t mean to…” His voice trailed off, and for the first time since I’d met him, he seemed uncomfortable.
    “No, it’s fine. You didn’t know,” I reassured him.
    “When did she pass away?” he asked.
    I looked up at him, and from the look on his face, I knew he was genuinely interested in knowing more about her. Most people asked me the same question when they found out, but rarely did they actually want to know. They only asked because they thought it was the right thing to ask, because they didn’t want to seem insensitive, or because they wanted to end the awkward silence that usually occurred after they inadvertently found out about her passing. But Damian’s expression was different—it seemed honest and sincere.
    “My parents passed away in a car accident when I was thirteen. That was ten years ago.” I walked over to Damian. He handed me the photo, and I looked at it. “My mom was a pottery instructor. Actually, she went to U.C. Berkeley, and then after graduation, she moved to San Francisco and started teaching ceramics here.”
    “That’s amazing. How did she end up in Iowa?” Damian studied me. He still seemed a little uncomfortable. It was almost like he was worried that I would break down and cry in front of him.
    I looked up at him and gazed into his rich blue eyes. They were no longer the piercing blue eyes I couldn’t stare at for too long for fear of