Page 30 of Allegiant

I snort. “I do, but I also know this isn’t something you wear to the Gilded Cellar.”

“They’ll let you in if you’re with me, but that isn’t where we’re going.”

He turns and leads me down the street. The studio is located in the nicer part of St. Dismas, but as we walk, I realize we’re headed toward somewhere a little less so. As we walk, the bag bounces against my thigh, and he reaches over and takes it from my shoulder, placing it over his. Doesn’t even ask, just does.

It should be ungentlemanly, but I like it.

“I could have carried that, but thank you,” I say, my chest fluttering slightly.

“No problem.”

I roll my lips between my teeth, peering over at him as he walks. He catches me looking and winks, making me slightly flustered.

“So, if we aren’t going to one of your fancy places, where are we going?”

“Somewhere off the beaten path.”

I glance down at the worn sidewalk and let out a laugh. “Literally.”

He grins at me, and I find myself flushing slightly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be safe with me,” he says, and I snort at that.

“Am I though?”

“Yeah,” he says as he maneuvers me around an uneven piece of pavement. “You’re safe with me. And once you taste this food, you will never doubt me again.”

His fingers reach out and brush against mine, and I don’t pull away when he takes my hand in his.

I shouldn’t, but for some reason, I like the feeling of his palm against my own, how strong he is. So, I let him hold it as we cross a busy street and turn down an alley.

It’s then that I see it—a red awning and metal bars on the door. I see a flickering red sign.

Nonna’s.

“Here we are. You eaten here before?” he asks.

“Oh. No. Never heard of it.”

“It’s been here forever. Surprised you haven’t.”

He pulls the door open and ushers me inside. My eyes land on the outdated wallpaper first, and then the red checkered tablecloths.

Samson’s hand brushes against my lower back, and I step toward the counter, looking down at a handwritten menu and a sign taped next to it stating Cash Only.

Shit. “Um, I don’t have cash. Can we pop out to an ATM?”

“Don’t need it. We’ve helped Nonna out a few times. Everything we eat is free.”

My eyes widen at that as a younger woman comes out to the front, an apron on, her hair in a hairnet.

“Hey, Samson,” she says, giving him a large smile. “Been a while.”

“Been busy,” Samson replies.

“Well, Nonna will want to see you. She’s in the back, working. You’re lucky it’s not rush hour, or she wouldn’t be able to come out and say hello.”

“Fuck that. She needs to retire.”