Page 62 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
Her hair looks swept up in a messy bun today, bleached stripe twisted like an ice cream cone, and she’s drowning in a red sweater about three sizes too big.
My stomach growls at the smell of food and coffee.
“Ordered you a breakfast burrito,” she says, nodding at the bag on the counter.
I walk a little farther into the room, wary, and it’s only when her gaze drops that I remember I’m not wearing a shirt.
Shit.
“Your peace offering,” she says as I turn to leave. “You know. Because I don’t really cook like you.”
“You went out and got this?” I sigh and face her again, rubbing my cheek through a yawn.
“I ran down and grabbed it from a delivery guy down in the lobby. I wouldn’t dare leave the building and give you a heart attack. Perish the thought.” She holds up her hands innocently and uncurls those long legs before she pads over. Taking my arm, she drags me to the other chair next to her. “Sit and eat before you get dressed. Are you always this stubborn? I would’ve asked what you wanted, but you were pretty dead.”
Shamefully, she’s right, and nothing about this is.
I’m supposed to look after her, but I passed the fuck out when sleep finally found me. Ironic.
“I was more tired than I thought,” I grumble, reaching into the bag for a burrito.
“They’re both for you. I got three,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Both?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you eat.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” I growl back, tearing off the wrapper and biting into it. The first bite takes the edge off my hunger.
“Better?” she asks with a knowing smile.
“It’ll bebetteronce that caffeine hits my bloodstream.” I take a gulp from the cup, ignoring the way it blisters the roof of my mouth.
She hides her laughter in her eye-bleed green smoothie. I’ll never understand people who start the day drinking pureed grass that smells like baby food.
“So, on a scale of miffed to thermonuclear, how pissed are you that I snuck down to grab the food?” She tilts her head like a little bird.
“Three. Annoyed.” I finish the first burrito in three bites and tear open the second before answering. “You’re a grown woman, Nile. New York isn’t the safest place, but the lobby’s reasonably secured with its own guard. Still wish you would’ve woke me up first.”
“Well, you’re welcome.” She bites her lip, irritation flashing in her indigo eyes.
Too early for this.
I polish off half my burrito, steeling myself not to take any rage-bait yet.
“I had some time to think,” she says. “And I’m still kinda pissed, no question, but… I’ve decided you probably weren’t trying to sabotage anything yesterday.”
“That’s what you thought?” My brows lift. I can’t hide the surprise in my voice.
“Well, you were kind of touchy and paranoid.” After the hurt and anger etched on her face less than twenty-four hours ago, that’s putting it mildly.
“It’s called due diligence. I might’ve been a little heavy-handed, yes. If so, I apologize.”
“Yeah, cool. When I stop and think about it, you were actually trying to be helpful in your big dumb bison way.”
I breathe through my nose. We’re going to get through breakfast without fighting—even if it kills me.
“Big dumb bison?”
