Page 41 of Fast & Reckless
“I have no idea. I didn’t speak to them again for years. Only started again recently and as little as I can manage.”
She reached out, laying a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He glanced down in surprise at her small hand on his forearm. For so long people had been judging him on all the bad things he’d done, he wasn’t used to someone feeling sorry for him.
“Look, before you start feeling too much sympathy for me, let’s be clear. Nobody’s to blame for the shit I did that year except me. But … yeah, I was mad. If I couldn’t be good, then I’d be really,reallybad, you know? And now? Fuck it. They know where to find me, if they care, which they don’t.”
“That’s sad, Will.”
“Hey, what did I just say? No pitying me. I’m fine.”
“If you say so.”
He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I am!”
“Will—”
“Are you hungry?” he asked abruptly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face her. “I’m starving.”
“Well …” She paused considering. “Yeah, I am, actually. Do you think there’s anything open around here?”
They’d wandered into the business district, surrounded by glass skyscrapers, all empty this long after the workday had ended.
“Wait …” He pulled out his phone and searched the map. His memory was fuzzy, probably because he’d been drunk the last time he was here, but he remembered someplace amazing and he thought it was close by. “Aha. I was right. This way.”
Another few blocks and they were there.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a night market. Basically a market for street food vendors.”
“Street food?” Mira asked dubiously. “Like meat on a stick?”
“Yeah, but thebestmeat on a stick. Come on.”
They followed the smell of grilling meat to a bunch of satay stands ringing the outside of the pavilion. He placed an order at the one that had the most people clustered in front of it and passed her a skewer.
“God, that’s amazing,” she moaned after taking a bite of charred chicken.
“See? Meat on a stick can be good.”
“Sogood.”
His eyes snagged on her mouth as she licked sauce from her thumb.Don’t think about her lips, he lectured himself.And absolutely do not think about her tongue.
Inside, the stalls sold everything from Japanese udon to Indian curries to Malay fried rice.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know. There are so many things, and it all smells so good.” Just then someone passed them balancing a plastic tray with a huge steaming bowl of soup. The scent trailing behind him was unreal.
“That one,” they said in unison.
The man behind the counter, burly and dressed in a rumpled white chef’s smock with the sleeves rolled up to revealthick forearms roped with muscles, jerked his chin at them. “Soup?”
Will pointed at the guy who’d passed them. “Two of those.”
“You got it, boss.”
