Page 19 of Malice

He leans back, considering. “I can play the piano.”

I blink, surprised. “Since when?”

“Since I was a kid. My mom insisted on lessons.” His expression darkens. “Before…”

I reach across the table, my hand finding his. “Before your biological parents?”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening. “No. After. She wanted all of us kids to learn at least one instrument.”

“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” I say gently.

“I’ll play for you.” His eyes lock onto mine. “Someday.”

The promise in his words sparks a thrill inside me. The future feels like a page waiting to be turned, and for the first time in ages, I’m excited to read on.

We chat through dinner, trading stories and memories, crafting something new from the years we’ve known each other. Carter recounts his first MMA fight and how he threw up in the locker room beforehand. I share my most embarrassing nursing moment, the time I accidentally called a doctor by the wrong name during a code.

By the time dessert comes, tiramisu for me, cannoli for him, the restaurant has emptied. The owner gives us a knowing smile as he clears the nearby tables, leaving us in our cozy corner.

“I should get you home,” Carter says, though neither of us moves.

“It’s still early.” I savor the tiramisu’s rich flavors. “And I’m not ready for this night to end.”

I can see it pleases him, the way I admitted that. “What would you like to do?” he asks.

I set down my fork, contemplating. “I want to walk. Somewhere quiet, where it’s just us.”

He nods, reaching for the check. “I know just the place.”

The night air is cool against my skin as we step outside. Carter drapes his leather jacket over my shoulders, the scent of leather, soap, and the faint smell of motor oil wrapping around me. His hand rests lightly on my back as he guides me down the sidewalk.

We walk in easy silence, our footsteps echoing on the pavement. The city is hushed at this hour, the streets almost empty. We turn down one side street, then another, until we find a small park I’ve never noticed before, a hidden patch of green in the urban sprawl.

Carter leads me to a bench under an old oak tree, its branches reaching skyward. Moonlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path.

“Matthew and I used to come here,” he says, sitting beside me. “When we were younger. It was our thinking spot.”

I picture them as teenagers on this very bench, planning their futures. “What did you figure out?”

“Not much.” He chuckles, the sound warm in the quiet night. “Mostly how to get into trouble and out of it.”

I lean into him, his arm wrapping around me instinctively. His warmth seeps into me, chasing away the nighttime chill.

“I’m glad you brought me here,” I say, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “It feels like you’re sharing something real.”

His eyes are dark, intense in the moonlight. “You mean a lot to me, Trixie. More than I can express.”

His words hang between us, raw and honest. I turn to face him, my knee brushing against his.

“You don’t need to say anything,” I whisper. “I can feel it.”

His hand cups my cheek, thumb tracing my jawline.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmurs, his face just inches from mine.

“Then do it,” I breathe, bridging the gap between us.

Chapter 5