Page 87 of The Penalty

His eyebrows raise until they get hidden in the longer part of his hair. “You don’t think much of yourself at all do you?”

“I’m a damn hero! You need to recognize.” I cross my arms and wait for the worshiping.

“That’s big talk from someone who hasn’t beaten the Gods this season.”

I gasp and shove my finger into his chest. “You take that back!”

“What? The facts?”

I glare at him but don’t have a response. He’s right but I don’t have to admit it out loud. I’ve stopped some of his shots on goal…I force the thought out of my brain jello because the more Ithink about it the worse I feel, and I don’t want to have a bad day when the Red Bull Gods have blessed me.

“Does this mean you aren’t going to wear the hat and sunglasses either?” I hold them up.

“Are you trying to get more attention or less?”

“We gotta be in-cock-uous! Hide our identities.”

“I can’t tell if you mean inconspicuous or incognito.”

“Same thing.”

“But which one?” I ask.

“Doesn’t matter, sugar-cup!”

“I shouldn’t like when you call me that. And that would make us more conspicuous. Going out dressed normally is our best bet to blend in. Plus, its fine if people see you.” He throws his hands up in the air and lets them drop back down with an audible slap.

“Why do I like you again? You’re real rude.”

“Because I touch your cock.”

“Oh yeah. That’s true.” I grab the back of his neck and give him a kiss. “Fine, come on so I can feed you. You’re so hangry.”

We find a diner a few blocks from campus that will hopefully not be full of college students.

We’ve missed the breakfast rush, so we don’t have to wait too long for a table. Rhys gets a black tea, and I get orange juice.

“Black tea? Why do you hate yourself?”

“I don’t, that’s why I got the tea.”

“It’s bitter. There’s no sugar or anything in it. Not even cream to make it nice-ish.”

The waitress brings our drinks and takes our order. Rhys of course orders some healthy omelet thing with vegetables init and whole grain toast or something. I get pancakes with a smiley face made with whipped cream, chocolate chips, and a maraschino cherry.

“You might as well have just eaten the Oreos,” he chuckles and shakes his head. He leans both elbows on the table, bringing himself closer to me. I want to lean across the table and kiss him but there’s a lot of people in here and we’re supposed to be on the down low.

Instead of the kiss I want to take, I slide my foot under the table so my ankle is against his.

“My pancakes also have butter and a fruit.”

“Fruit? There’s fruit on your smiley face pancakes?”

“Yes. There’s a cherry,” I tell him smugly.

“A maraschino cherry? That doesn’t count. It’s not really a fruit anymore. It’s basically candy.”

“Chocolate is good for you. Doctors say so.”

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