Richmond-Banks Brothers 1: A Hopeless Place (BWWM Interracial Romance) Read Online Free Page A

time I’d ever seen him smile, and for a split second, he almost seemed likeable. Normal.
    “You’re kinda cute when you smile,” I teased. “I never realized that. You should smile more often.”
    Bennett blushed and turned away, dropping his spoon into his bowl.
    “Did I embarrass you?” I teased some more as I poked him in his side.
    “Ouch. Stop that,” he said, reverting back to his old self in a matter of seconds.
    “I’m just trying to lighten you up a bit,” I said. “You’re so tightly wound all the time. Sorry.”
    I reached over and gently lifted his shirt to look at his ribs, placing one warm palm over the area I’d just poked.
    “I hope that doesn’t bruise,” I said. “I didn’t mean to poke you so hard.”
    I was so close to him I could feel his breath on top of my head. I could also hear the faint beating of his heart in his chest. I pulled away and locked eyes with him, trying to get a read. I imagined what his mother would say if she saw bruises on his ribs, and I imagined Bennett making up some elaborate story out of spite. He seemed so resentful toward me sometimes, and I couldn’t understand why.
    “You apologize too much,” he said, leaning away from me. “I’ll be fine.”
    Relieved, I scooted further away from him and sunk back into the bed to relax a bit more.
    “You can sleep,” he said as he turned the volume down on the T.V. Maybe he didn’t completely hate me, after all.
    I closed my tired eyes and drifted off into a sweet little catnap. I awoke hours later. “Oh, geez. I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”
    I climbed off the bed, Bennett watching my every move, and headed to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit with your lunch. Try to eat a little more today, will ya?”
    I returned a bit later with his lunch and situated the tray over his lap like I always did.
    “What’s this?” he said, staring down at the plate. “This isn’t on my menu.”
    “You’re way too skinny,” I told him. “You’re skin and bones, Bennett. I bet if you put on a little bit of weight, you’d feel better. Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired. Maybe you’d be able to move around without needing so much help. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
    His face twisted as if I’d struck a nerve. “You think you’re the first person who’s ever tried to get me to eat more?”
    “Just try. That’s all I ask,” I replied, my hands in the air.
    He stared down at the hearty bowl of potato soup in front of him strategically loaded with shredded cheddar, bacon pieces, and croutons. He took an inaudible sip from the soup spoon.
    “Not bad, huh?” I asked with a patient smile.
    “What is this?” he asked.
    “Potato bacon corn chowder,” I replied. “A Robinson family recipe.”
    “It’s all right.”
    “All right? That’s all I get?” It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes.
    “You did a good job. I like it,” he finally complimented me. “Just don’t deviate from the menu too often. That’s all I ask. I have a highly sensitive stomach.”
    “Your routines make you feel safe, don’t they?” I asked.
    “Excuse me?” he said, turning slowly to meet my gaze.
    “Listen, I get it,” I said, standing firm in my suggestion. “You’ve had a pretty shitty life so far. You have this disease that will never go away. You’re tired all the time. You never feel well. You’re stuck in this room all day long. Your parents pawn you off onto someone else so they don’t’ have to look after you as much, and your routines are the only constant in your life. They’re your security blanket. They’re the only thing you have to rely on. They never let you down.”
    “Good job, Amara. Way to go,” he said with a sarcastic smirk. I’d angered him. “You’ve been here just a few days now, and you have me completely figured out.”
    I stood up and walked over to his window.
    “What are you doing?” he demanded to know.
    “What does it look like?” I asked, flinging open the thick,