Page 147 of The Broken Keys

“Good, because this restaurant serves enough to feed a small army.”

We stroll the three blocks to the restaurant in comfortable, meaningless conversation about the weather and the area. Jaxon points out spots I might be interested in.

The sun warms my face, and I catch myself matching his stride without thinking about it. It’s like my body knows the rhythm of walking beside him even when my mind doesn’t.

The Thai restaurant is tucked between a coffee shop and a bookstore, its red door painted with gold accents. The moment we step inside, a sliver of something flashes on the screen of my mind, like a memory I can’t quite grasp.

“Table for two?” The hostess grins at us with recognition in her eyes. “Your usual table?”

Jaxon glances at me before answering. “Please.”

She leads us to a corner booth near the windows, and I slide into the seat that somehow feels right. It’s like I’ve sat here before, looked out this exact window, and felt this same wooden table beneath my palms.

“Do we come here often?” I place my purse beside me.

“We used to.” He picks up the menu, but doesn’t open it. “The Pad Thai is excellent, and their Green Curry is the best I’ve had outside of Thailand.”

The server appears with water glasses. “Good to see you again, Mr. Crowne. And you too, Livianna. It’s been a while.”

My rib cage clamps around me. I’ve been here before with Jaxon. Multiple times, apparently.

“Hi.” I pretend I remember her. “It’s good to be back.”

Jaxon orders without looking at the menu. “We’ll have the spring rolls to start, the Pad Thai with shrimp, and the Green Curry with chicken. Mild spice on both, please.”

The server writes it down and leaves.

I stare at him across the table. “How did you know what I wanted?”

He freezes, his expression neutral. “I just got done telling you what’s good here. I thought that was an obvious choice.”

“You ordered exactly what I would’ve ordered. Down to the mild spice and the spring rolls.”

“Livianna—”

“Just how often did we come here?” I lean forward.

He doesn’t answer, and the silence is more than I can bear.

I should feel unsettled by another gap in my memory, but instead, I feel something else entirely. Safe. Comfortable. Like being with him is the most natural thing in the world.

“Jaxon?” I wrap my hands around my water glass. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course.”

“I get the feeling we’re close.”

He rests back against the booth. “That’s not a question.”

“All right, then. Are we close?”

“Very.” His stare lingers, weighted and full of something I can’t read.

My stomach flips. My gaze is hooked with his. I should look away and break contact, but I…don’t want to.

Why the fuck am I toying with this…? What the fuck is happening?

I shift from the intensity. “Tell me about our relationship.”