I snort, because no, he wasn’t. Not for any casual reason like his tone suggests. “Right. Because this is agreatarea to just casually be in.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up, just barely. But more than enough.
“I brought food,” he says, holding up plastic bags of take-out.
That… I wasn’t expecting.
I pause mid-motion, key halfway to the lock. “…You brought food.”
He twists his wrist, showing me all sides of the bag like he’s assuring me that there isn’t a bomb on the backside of it. Takeout, smells good too.Reallygood. “I figured you haven’t had time to eat,” he adds.
My stomach, the traitor that it is, growls immediately. I close my eyes for a second. Because this is how people end up in bad decisions. “You can’t just show up at my apartment with food,” I say, even as I unlock the door.
“Why not?”
I push it open and step inside. Because apparently, I have no self-preservation instincts. “Because it makes it very hard to say no to having a detective hanging around in a neighborhood like this.”
The words slip out before I can stop them.
Silence.
I turn to find him watching me more closely now. Something subtle shifts in his expression.
“Is that what you’re trying to do?” he asks quietly. So quietly that I think he might be afraid of the answer. “Say no?”
My brain short-circuits for a second. “…No,” I admit.
That’s the problem.
I step back, opening the door wider. “Come in before the food gets cold.” Bad decision. Definitely a bad decision.
Pip is immediately at my feet, chirping like I’d personally abandoned him for years.
Alex pauses just inside the doorway. His eyes drop to the cat, then flit back up to me. “I forgot you have a roommate.”
I huff a laugh. “Yeah, Pip. He runs the place.”
Pip circles Alex once, long enough for me to think he’ll be as impartial to Alex as he was the last time he came over. But then, the traitor leans into his leg.
I blink. “Wow. He doesn’t even like Scott. That only took two times-” I frown down at the joyful little fluffball. “And here I thought you just only liked me.”
Alex crouches slightly, one hand hovering before gently scratching behind Pip’s ear. Slowly, carefully, and protectively, like he’s approaching something fragile.
The thought of him being protective hits me out of nowhere.
Pip purrs instantly.
“Of course,” I mutter. “You win him over in five seconds.”
Alex glances up at me. “Animals are good judges.”
Something about the way he says it, like it means something more, makes my chest tighten, reminding me of the day I found little, injured Pip in the alleyway and he let me cradle his tiny body in my hands.
I shake it off before it gets me teary-eyed over my little guy’s hardest day and head for the kitchen. “Alright, what did you bring?”
We settle into the barstools at the edge of the kitchen just like last time. It’s almost becoming natural already.
He unpacks the food, Chinese takeout. Not my usual “whatever’s in the fridge and barely qualifies as a meal.”
