I lifted the crown of my bun, removed the unappetizing pickles and swapped them for Jason’s tomato. Both men watched as I slapped the bun down on top and took a bite. As I chewed, I knew it was childish, but I’d hoped for Jason to look defeated.
But he continued to act like he couldn’t care less. In fact, he immediately retrieved my pickles and added them to the remainder of his sandwich.
Of course.
I wished I could ignore him, but it was impossible. I was aware of him in every way, even when I didn’t want to be.
I resumed my photo search and had to play mental games to keep my attention on the screen, noting anything unusual about a picture as it flashed past. That one had a black eye; maybehe had resisted arrest. Another had a bad facial tattoo, and I wondered if he ever regretted it.
“You have to be hungry.” Jason’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I’m fine.” The weight of his gaze on me forced me to stop what I was doing. “What?”
“Do you want something else? If I’d known you were awake, I would have asked what you?—”
“I was supposed to be awake hours ago. Remember?”
If he felt guilty, it didn’t show on his face. He continued to stare at me with his dark eyes, and it forced me into action. I picked up the burger and choked down another bite. Maybe it was good, but I couldn’t taste anything. I was too distracted by him.
My attempt to appease him worked temporarily, and I resumed my game with the photos, but I had to stop when I felt my mind wandering. It kept drifting to the man sitting beside me who hadn’t really taken his focus off me since sitting down.
“Can I help you with something?” It came out just as pointed as I wanted it to.
“Yeah.” He didn’t skip a beat. “You can finish your dinner.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because you look like you can’t afford to miss too many meals.”
His words plunged the table into horrible, awkward silence.
Once again, he looked stricken, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything, but there was no getting the words back now. Derrick mumbled that he’d forgotten something in his room and vanished down the hall, abandoning his partner.
He thinks you’re too skinny.
Why did I care what he thought about my body?
“Don’t worry about me,” I snapped. “I’m probably healthier than you.”
He said it like an apology. “You’re right.”
Yet when I looked at his broad shoulders and wide chest, I wondered how true that was. He looked like he took care of himself and visited the gym often. He probably looked amazing beneath that wrinkled shirt, all hard muscle and smooth skin and...
I launched to my feet to escape the thought and hurried to fold up the wrapper so I could throw the remainder of my sandwich in the garbage. But he was up on his feet too now, his broad frame blocking my path.
Breath hitched in my lungs as he reached out to take the burger from my hand, his fingers brushing against mine and sending a surge of electricity through my body. Our gazes connected for a single moment, and he looked as off balance as I felt.
Like touching me had shocked him too.
His anxious expression vanished as he carried the wrapped burger into the kitchen and deposited it in the fridge.
“In case you want to spite me and eat it later,” he said, a hint of a smile curling his lips.
The sight of it made my knees go soft.
How the hell did he do that? He pissed me off and turned me on at the same time, and it felt like I’d been dropped on stage after forgetting all the choreography.
Oh, God, I couldn’t stay here.
