“I am notpeople.”
I shoved another forkful of spaghetti into my mouth, speaking with my mouth full. “Did you stop by here to eat something when we were apart?”
“No.”
“So you’ve not eaten all day as well?”
“Yes.”
I grabbed a piece of sauced chicken, tearing into it like a starved woman, knowing my mouth was as messy as my hands, seeing that Elio’s blank stare had quickly turned into one of irritation as he watched me eat.
Yes! A reaction!
“You’re not avoiding food because you’re ashamed to eat in front of people, are you? Cause that’s just pitiful,” I said, one of my hands rolling spaghetti onto the fork, shoving it into my mouth, while my other hand brought the chicken to my mouth, tearing a bite as I chewed the spaghetti and chicken together, melting at the combination.
“You’re an animal,” he stated.
“Stop flattering me; I might just fall in love with you.”
“That was not a compliment,” he gritted.
I swallowed, picking a piece of sauced beef with one of the toothpicks. “I have this disorder where every insult I get materializes into compliments in my head; it’s like—so rare and incurable.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“Do your research,” I said, digging into the vegetables and pasta to find what combination they would form in my mouth. “Oh yes.” I threw my head back. “I’m having a literal food orgasm right now.”
Elio relaxed in the booth, shaking his head like he was done with me. I smiled inwardly; at least he wasn’t looking out the window with that wary expression anymore.
“This place is perfect! They bring tradition into the taste oftheir food. Dog would love it here. I’ll bring him sometime to have food orgasms together.”
“You lack table manners.”
“No. I just love being free, not uptight and proper like you.” I grabbed another chicken wing, waving it around him as I said, “I know there’s a food craze in there somewhere; you just gotta let loose.”
“Like you let yourself loose to the extent of”—his gaze flickered to my chest—“piercing your nipples?”
“There, there, is that what’s bothering you? Can’t get it out of your head? Is it making you hard again? You should have looked away.”
“You didn’t give me a choice. How did you sit through that? Who put it on you?”
Dropping the bone of the chicken wing, I smiled coyly at him. “A man. A hot, sexy, tatted, and pierced man. He was really good with his hands. His name was Julio.”
The man opposite me just shook his head. “Why would you put yourself through that?”
“You got an opinion about my preferences, I don’t wanna fucking hear it. My body, my choice.”
“I’m not trying to give an opinion. It looks painful, and I wondered why you would endure it?”
“The pleasure that comes with it is worth it.” I smiled, pulling the French fries towards me. “Besides, I was a sex worker, as you might already know, if you’ve pieced the whole being sold thing together.”
He frowned immediately. “They forced it on you?” The edge to his voice had me clarifying.
“Nope, I saw some other girls getting it; I liked it but didn’t dare to do it then because I was young. But I did it after I left; one of the best decisions I ever made, and from your expression earlier, I could tell you liked it.”
“I didn’t.”
“Pfft. Right, you didn’t.” I picked up the glass of water, bringingit to my lips as I stared at him from underneath my lashes, ending my statement with, “But your cock did.” I drank.