Page 142 of Never Die for a Sinner
He doesn’t even look at me as he pops the top of a can of ginger ale and then opens a pack of crackers next.
“Eat.”
Something shifts, and warmth burns in my chest.
I don’t feed, Ava. I fuck.
“You don’t feed people.”
Still avoiding my gaze, he situates everything in my lap.
“Shut up.”
I bite back a smile at his tone and reach for the spoon. I’m not hungry—when I’m sick, I’d much rather starve—but the fact that he went out of his comfort zone in an effort to take care of me feels . . . special.
Honestly, my head feels like it’s three sizes too big, and I can’t breathe. Not to mention, my eyes are in a constant state of watering, like I’m watching the first nine minutes ofUpon repeat.
“I’mnoteating that grapefruit.”
“Paulina caught me on the way out of the kitchen. She said they’re your favorite,” he jokes, crossing the room and kicking his shoes off on the other side of the bed.
“I hate grapef—What are you doing?”
My stomach dips when he tugs his hoodie over his head, and for a brief second, those glorious abs are on display. I’m sure I look like a cave rat next to him right now.
“Making sure you eat,” he murmurs, before sliding into the bed beside me.
You havegotto be kidding me.
“You know I’m a grown woman, right?”
“That much was evident when I had the proof grinding all over my mouth the other night.”
“Are you always this crude, or is this reserved special for me?”
“That depends,” he counters without missing a beat. “Do you always eat your soup with this much of an attitude?”
I glower at him.
He glowers back.
“If you don’t finish that bowl, I’ll personally hand-feed you that grapefruit.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Want to bet?”
“You’ll have to kill me first.”
“Thoughts crossed my mind,” he grumbles under his breath, and we dissolve into silence.
Forcing myself, I eat the soup slowly, and though it’s just soup from a can, he tried, and that’s more than anyone else has done in a long time.
We sit in silence, both of us watching whatever trashy TV show is on, but it’s not as uncomfortable as it normally is. Like maybe we reached some sort of momentary truce while I’m sick.
Truthfully, I’ve missed him, but I refuse to tell him that.
