Who is this new Gia? Because I don’t recognize this woman. It’s like she’s flipped a light switch. At work, she’s gloomy and quiet, but here, she’s funny and happy. She studies me while I eat the food as she nibbles on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. I’ve never seen her smile, and it’s as beautiful as staring at the stars. Once I finish the meal, I scoop crumbs to the edge of the table into my hand and rub my hands together over the plate. Rainbow grabs the plate and dumps it in the dishwasher along with the rest of the dishes.

“Where did you learn how to cook like this?” I ask as she taps the button on the dishwasher. It hums to life, then she ambles over and plops down on the leather stool next to me, crossing her legs, pulling her socks over her knees.

“Food Network and Pinterest. I didn’t have, um . . . anyone to teach me how to cook growing up.”

“What about your mom or dad?” I cock my head to the side.

“Did you know hair keeps growing after death? Like three months? That’s crazy, right?” Gia babbles random facts when she’s nervous, so I rest my hand over hers, and she looks at everything else except for me.

“Why are you nervous?”

Her tits rise and fall as she takes a deep breath, and her amber eyes meet mine. “I’m ashamed of where I come from. It isn’t pretty.”

“No one’s past is a ray of sunshine, Gia. Elaborate.”

What the fuck am I doing? Sitting here, trying to get to know her. Hannah would have a field day with this.

“My mom is dead, and I don’t know who my father is.” Pause. “I lived in foster care most of my life, and some of the families weren’t nice to me.”

“What do you mean by ‘weren’t nice’?” I ask through clenched teeth.

Calm down, Gunner.

She doesn’t need to see you raging. If you keep this shit up you’ll run her off.

“They treated me like they didn’t want me, used me for my foster care subsidy, and some neglected me.”

Her face looks like the calm before the storm, and my heart bleeds for her.

Now, the urge to bash someone’s skull in is even stronger.

Mental note: Make sure to check if I’m growing a pussy between my legs because that’s what Gia is doing to me—turning me into a giant one.

I tuck a few silky strands of her hair behind her right ear, and she flinches like I’m going to strike her. It isn’t the first time she’s done this. She does it a lot at work. My ma was abused, so I know the signs.

I want to ask her who the fuck abused her.