As soon as we’re inside, he kicks his shoes off by the door. He doesn’t bother to line them up neatly; he leaves them there and heads straight to the table, dropping the bag down.
He moves to the cupboard. His hand immediately reaches for the plates, second shelf, left side. He knows because he’s been here enough times now that he just knows.
Something about watching him move through the kitchen does something to my chest. I move to the fridge, pull it open, and grab two cans of Coke.
When I return to the table, he’s already got everything laid out. Both burgers are unwrapped. Fries are divided between the plates. Napkins are pulled from the bag and placed beside each one.
He glances up at me and catches me staring. “What?”
I shake my head and set the cans down.
“Nothing.”
But it’s not nothing. It’s everything. It’s him buying me dinner and laying it out and acting for one second that someone gives a shit whether I eat or not.
“You didn’t have to buy me dinner,” I say quietly as I sit down next to him.
“I wanted to.” He shrugs and reaches for a fry. “Plus, I used my charm tonight. I was out front serving tables and got a really good tip from two older ladies.”
I laugh. “So, you flirted.”
“I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Well, what would you call it then?”
His mouth curves into that slow, dangerous smirk. The one that probably got him those tips in the first place. “Letting cougars dream. Can’t help it if they want to fantasize about corrupting the youth.”
I laugh again. Harder this time. He’s such an asshole sometimes. Such a cocky, self-aware asshole who knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t apologize for any of it.
Never change, I think. Please don’t ever fucking change.
“Well, thank you, Jace, for buying me dinner,” I say, still smiling.
“You’re welcome.” He says it simply. Easy. But I can see how proud he is of this moment. The way his shoulders straightenjust slightly. The way his eyes hold mine for a beat longer than necessary. For once he’s the one taking care of me instead of the other way around. For once he’s the one making sure I eat.
He takes a bite of his burger, and I stand up and step back into the kitchen. I grab a knife from the drawer, walk back over.
“Did you seriously just cut your burger in half?” His says.
I glance back at him. “Yes.”
“Who the fuck does that?”
“People with manners.”
“It’s a burger, Bells. Not a steak at some fancy restaurant.” He shakes his head and takes another massive bite of his own burger. “You’re supposed to just shove it in your mouth and pray nothing falls out.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“That’s efficient.”
I roll my eyes and pick up one half of my burger. “You’re such a caveman sometimes.”
“And you’re such a princess.” He grins around his mouthful of food. “Guess we balance each other out.”
When I take my first bite, the flavor hits me all at once. Grease, cheese, and something perfectly seasoned. I can’t help it. A sound escapes my throat, low and satisfied. My eyes close instinctively.
When I open them again, Jace has gone completely still. His burger is halfway to his mouth. His eyes are locked on me. Dark. Intense. Something hungry flickering behind them that has nothing to do with food.
