Page 112 of Nyx

I know a lot of people do it, and I'd never judge them, but for me, a meal should be its own event, not just something you do while doing something else. I know that idea is left over from my parents, and maybe one day I'll change it, but it won't happen today.

"Thankfully," I say, taking the chair in the corner so neither door is at my back. "The apartment came with this little table and two chairs."

"It was furnished?" he asks as he sets the bags down on the tiny table before reaching in and pulling out the food.

"It was," I answer. "I always try to find places that have at least a bed and some sort of sofa. I tend to travel extremely light. Sometimes I don't have time to pack, much less worry about the logistics of moving furniture."

"Understandable," he says as he offers me a Styrofoam container. "Bacon and extra lettuce."

"Thank you," I say, barely stopping the moan that wants to bubble up when I pop the lid open, and the scent of deliciousness invades my senses. "What did you get?"

"Bacon cheeseburger with an onion ring, barbecue sauce, and a fried egg."

"What?" I ask, my nose automatically scrunching in judgment. "An egg?"

"It's so good," he says, his tone lighter than I've ever heard before. "And if they did it right, it's going to be incredibly messy. Do you have extra napkins?"

"I can—" I freeze, halfway to standing, when he holds his hand out.

"I can get napkins, unless you just don't want me to get them."

"They're on a roll in that cabinet to the left of the sink," I explain. "You're a guest. I should—"

"Do nothing extra," he interrupts. "I'm capable. I promise. I know it's a struggle to have someone in your space, Juliet."

Geez, the way he says my name makes me want to melt sometimes.

"I don't mind you being here," I assure him. "I wouldn't have asked-"

"If you weren't terrified," he says, grabbing some paper towels before turning back to the table. "I don't want you to feel put out or feel like you have to accommodate me in any way. The only thing I want from you is to feel safe, or at minimum safer than you would if I weren't here. If you don't feel safer, then I can stay outside. My presence shouldn't make things worse."

"It doesn't," I offer. "I promise."

His eyes meet mine as he takes a seat across from me, and it feels a little invasive, as if he's trying to read me and figure out if I'm telling the truth.

It doesn't alarm me, but it's a little unnerving for someone to be so invested in my well-being when there's nothing for them to benefit from attached to it. I loved my parents growing up, but there were always expectations. They never openly said that if I do this for you, then I expect this in return, but that doesn't mean that conditioning didn't happen at such a young age that I just don't remember.

I wait for him to take the first bite, my attention no less on his mouth than it is at moments when he speaks. The groan that rumbles through his chest sends a thrill of need down my back, making the hairs stand up at the base of my neck.

Although I can't imagine eating a burger with a fried egg on it, I can admit that I don't dislike the way his tongue sneaks out to swipe at the yolk drop on his lip.

He lifts his eyes, catching me watching him, but as much as I feel guilty, I can't seem to pull my eyes away.

He chews, his head tilting slightly when I can't choose between looking into his eyes or watching his mouth.

"Told you it was messy," he says once he swallows, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Want a bite?"

He holds the dripping burger out, as if I'd actually lean across the table and accept the offer.

"No, thank you," I say and busy myself with my own food.

The next ten minutes are spent in silence as we eat, and I make a valiant effort to look anywhere in the room but directly at him.

I bag our trash once we're done, and feel a little lost standing in the middle of my kitchen after throwing it away.

"We can watch TV," I offer, exhausted but knowing I'd never be able to fall asleep right now. "Anything in particular you want to watch?"

I make my way to the living room and take a seat on the love seat before reaching for the remote.