It sounded absurd. Four milks for one woman. Overboard? Maybe. But her settling for black coffee? That wasn’t going to happen again.
She blinked. Her eyes flicked to the milk and then to me. A faint flush crept into her cheeks. She shifted her weight to one foot, fingers tightening just slightly around her mug. "I hope you didn’t go out just for me?"
I gave a half-shrug, setting the bag down and opening the fridge. “It’s just milk.”
She didn’t say anything right away. I glanced up again. She was still watching me, her face unreadable.
Then, something shifted. I saw it, her eyes darted, just slightly, like her brain was flipping through options. The hesitation. A faint crease between her brows. Then, a flicker.
"Thank you," she said at last. "I look forward to experimenting to see which one I like the most."
I busied myself with unpacking the rest of the bags while I let Claire choose her coffee creamer. It was just milk. Practical. Four kinds of milk for someone I barely knew.
My back was turned, but I could feel her behind me, still standing there. Still watching. I didn’t look. Just keptrearranging things in the fridge. Holding my breath. I opened and closed my jaw a few times, then rolled my shoulders back, slow and deliberate.
“Liam?”
Her voice was soft but clear, hesitant in a way that didn’t match her usual steady tone.
I turned just enough to catch her over my shoulder.
“I hate to bother you,” she said, still holding her mug, “but if you get a chance... could give me the name of the best place to order pizza from? For the girls, I mean.”
I froze for half a second.
I had promised that, didn’t I.
I don’t order pizza. Ever.
My brain was already cataloging flour, sauce, fresh mozzarella before I caught myself.
Would that sound weird? Would she think that was a red flag? A grown man who could hand-toss dough blindfolded but can’t recommend a local pizza place?
“Uh—sure,” I said. “I’ll leave you a note.”
My eyes went to the fridge.
Then, before I could stop, “Actually... better yet, just let me know what the girls like and what time you want it delivered. I can call.”
She blinked. Definitely surprised. A small crease formed between her brows, then smoothed into something else, almost a smile.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. I can just ask Arturo at the front desk.”
I looked at the fridge. Then at her.
“No, I don’t mind. Really. Just let me know.”
She hesitated and shifted her mug to the other hand.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Thank you.”
Then a pause.
She glanced toward the balcony, and then back at me.
“Listen, I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll give you your kitchen back. I’ll just... go out and finish my coffee. By the way, I’m really enjoying the almond milk.”
Almond milk. She’d picked one.
