“How can I not? They areadorable.”
“They are an aid to help me see.”
“Right, but they’re half-moons. You’re currently looking at me over them.”
“I have to. If I don’t, you turn into a blue-and-pink-and-black swirl.”
“Technically speaking. But speaking as someone who doesn’t care about being technical about this, you look like a kindly professor in a movie about inspiring kids to read,” she said, and was pleased with herself for doing so. Until she saw his answering expression. He looked completely and utterly taken aback.
Only in thegoodway. The way that said she’d accidentally complimented him. And the idea of accidentally complimenting him made her heart jerk in her chest. She had to add a sharp edge before he started thinking that she found this professor super attractive and awesome. “Those kids would be really disappointed in you for making a list of draconian rules,” she said.
Though it surprised her when he just went with it.
Like the idea hadn’t crossed his mind at all.
“Maybe I’m the tough-love kind.”
“You’d need a leather jacket for that.”
“Leather is awful. Hot in the summer, cold in the winter.”
“Do you ever just feel like not being super practical about everything?”
“That’s a personal question. Now, rule number five. No eating in the truck.”
“Right, because we wouldn’t want the sloppy, disgusting mess to ruin the decor.”
This time, she didn’t just get a look over the top of his glasses. He took them off. Probably to really drive home the lecture he was going to deliver about revoltingeating habits. After all, he was one of the reasons she had realized she had them. She had caught him glaring at her once as she devoured a burger. Seen him staring darkly at the smear of jam between the curves of her Cupid’s bow.
And she’d noticed how he had watched her lick her fingers.
Like he had desperately wanted her to stop.
It had surprised her how little she had felt the urge to, really. But it surprised her more when he replied, “You think I’m saying this because you’re adisgusting mess? Have youalwaysbelieved that? When did you start? What did I say to make you think so? Be very specific,” he said, so fierce for a second she had to sit back.
And not because he had stressed her.
Because he had shocked her.
“You’ve just always looked at me like you thought so.”
“Well, I don’t. I just don’t like food in my car.”
“You didn’t like the way I ate my breakfast, either.”
He jabbed at the table with one finger. “I got that breakfastforyou.”
“But you could hardly look at me as I ate it.”
“It’s impolite to stare. Especially when someone does something so—”
“Does something so what? What exactly do you think I do it like?”
Like you love it, she supplied, when he didn’t answer.Like you enjoy it.
And it made so much sense to her, as soon as she had the thought. He didn’t know how to be so into something. He hated letting go, indulging, devouring things whole. So why would he like seeing someone elsedo that? How could he ever understand? He probably viewed it like an alien would, when seeing a human do things it couldn’t.
Though it still shocked her when he abruptly seethed.
