Page 233 of Wicked Savage Wolves
I stare down at the food. My stomach twists into a knot and my eyes fill with moisture. I like pancakes like this because it's how Mom always made them for me.
“Dammit.” He walks around the counter until he’s right beside me. “You’re wasting away. You need to eat something. Just a few bites, okay?”
I nod, forcing back the tears. I pick up the fork and knife and cut into the pancakes, finding tiny bits of bacon inside. If I wasn’t on the verge of tears right now I would seriously appreciate this, because duh, bacon!
Desmond grabs his own plate and fills it with bacon, eggs, and a single piece of toast. But no pancakes. I frown down at my plate. “Why aren’t you having any pancakes?”
“Not in the mood for any.”
“Then why did you make pancakes if you knew you weren’t going to eat any?”
He grunts. “You order pancakes every time we go to Sun Valley Station. Figured if I was going to get you to eat something, this was my best bet. You mentioned before that pancakes were your favorite food group.”
“You remembered that?”
He nods.
I smile at that. Pancakes are my favorite food group. Mom used to make them on Sundays. Always with peanut butter and syrup, how her mom used to make them when she was growing up. The bacon is a new addition, and one I’m not upset over one bit.
A fresh wave of grief sweeps over me and I blink back the tears, eyes locked on my plate.
Desmond either doesn’t notice or chooses not to mention it, which I’m grateful for. “I have practice today. I missed earlier this week, which was fine, but we have a game tomorrow and I have to show up. Will you—”
“I’ll be fine.”
He frowns. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”
Oh. “What were you going to ask?”
He looks at me, looks at my plate, then waits. I sigh and take a bite.
He grunts. “I was going to ask if you’d come to campus with me. Zheng had to fly out to Florida to take care of a few things, and I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone.”
“I—”
He cuts me off. “There’s a lounge area just off the locker rooms where you can hang out. Maybe catch up on homework or watch some brainless T.V. on the television inside. We usually watch game tapes, but I think Coach has it hooked up to cable.”
I worry my lower lip. “I’d rather stay here.”
His muscles flex and he takes a bite of his food, chewing while he thinks. “Practice is less than two hours. I can leave early if I need to. You won’t have to be there long.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to go. I never should have gotten up. I’ll just go back to the room and—”
“Meiying, I’m not leaving you here alone. Right now isn’t the time for you to be difficult. Change your clothes if you want to, but you’re coming.”
I look down at myself. I'm still wearing his shirt. It’s been several days. Almost a week and I’m still in the same shirt. The same pair of underwear. Oh god. I probably smell awful, and of course he can smell me. Hell, I can smell myself.
“If it’s quick, you have time for a shower.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. But I want a shower first.”
He exhales a harsh breath. “Okay. Good. Eat some more first. We’ll leave in an hour.”
I take another bite, barely tasting it, but it seems to make him happy. My stomach growls, so I must be hungry. I just don’tfeelhungry. I’m numb. Empty.
