My mind starts racing. She’s definitely flirting back—and if that’s the case, maybe she’s not as good for Eli as he thinks. This mission just shifted from a kidnapping to a full-on covert operation. I’m going to expose her for who she really is.
I let out a low chuckle, the sound making her glance up. “Careful, princess. Sounds like you’re flirting.”
The sound of her stomach breaks our conversation.
“Oh my god, this day could not get any worse,” she says, covering her face with both her hands.
“Are you hungry? We can get some food.” I don’t know why I’m offering to sit down and have a meal with her when I should really be getting her to Eli. Part of me doesn’t want this morning to end.
“You’re feeding your hostage? That feels very ‘Stockholm syndrome starter pack’ of you,” she quips, making me roll my eyes.
Before I can retort, she lets out an exhausted sigh, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater, making her look small and vulnerable. “That actually sounds perfect. I could really go for a hot cocoa and, like, ten pancakes.” The morning toll must have finally caught up with her. A faint ache blooms in my chest, a mix of guilt and the strange urge to make it up to her somehow.
We place our order and a mug of hot cocoa, with an ungodly amount of whipped cream, appears less than a second later. Like they had fully anticipated her order.
“So,” she says, taking a sip of her hot cocoa and leveling me with a look that makes me want to spill everything about myself, “do you want to play twenty questions?”
I grin. “You want to play twenty questions? Like speed dating?”
“Yup!” She pops thePin all seriousness.
“You want to date me, princess?”
I catch the way she shifts in her seat, gaze flicking anywhere but me.
She’s flustered. That’s cute. “Alright, rapid-fire or the soul-searching kind?”
“Rapid-fire,” she says, tapping the edge of her mug.
“Fine. But if any of this gets too annoying, I swear—”
“First question!” she starts, pointing a finger like she’s a game show host. “Favorite color?”
“Black.” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth as a chuckle leaves her lips, the sound cute and endearing.
“What?”
“You’re wearing all black right now,” she teases, holding back another chuckle.
“Okay, fine, your turn?”
“Pink, obviously.” She gestures at her sweater, which has slipped off her shoulder again, giving me another peek of her collarbone. The olive color is like a beacon calling me home; I want to nestle my nose into the crook of her neck.
Clearing my throat, I try not to think about how soft her skin would feel under me. “Next question.”
“Favorite food?”
“Steak. Rare.”
“Ewww. Like with the blood running out of it?” Her nose wrinkles like she just ate something sour. It’s incredibly charming.
“Yeah,” I say, smirking. “That’s how you know it’s actually good. What about you?”
“Green bean casserole. I know, I know, it’s a holiday dish, but I love it so much I could probably eat it daily.” She can not be more adorable; she’s giving Jake a run for his money.
“Favorite guilty pleasure?” she presses on.
“Cheesy rom-coms. And I’m not ashamed.”
