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“Caffeine is not a food.”
“The coffee bean comes from a plant. Which means that coffee is basically a salad.”
He gives me an incredulous look. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that.”
Rolling my eyes, I throw out my arms. “What’s wrong with drinking coffee?”
“Nothing. But you need to eat some actual food too. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“Wow, thank you, Mr. Public Service Announcement.”
“Just eat.” He stabs a hand towards the omelet and gives me a look dripping with authority.
For a few seconds, we just stare at each other from across the table. A silent battle of wills. But I know that refusing to eat just makes me petty and childish, so in the end, I blow out a long breath in annoyance and shake my head at Jace while picking up my knife and fork.
A victorious smirk spreads across his lips.
I give him an irritated grimace and start cutting into the omelet with more force than necessary. He just watches me with that damn smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
Stabbing the piece of omelet I cut off, I shove it into my mouth.
I’m just about to shoot Jace an indifferent look when I stop short.
Different tastes blend and mix and enhance that single bite of omelet in a way that makes me feel all warm inside. I start in surprise. And then cut off another piece of omelet, because this has to be some kind of mistake.
But when I eat that second bite, the feeling is even stronger. There’s cheese and some kind of thin salty ham and garlic-seared mushrooms and fresh herbs, and it’s all warm and buttery from the pan. I quickly cut another bite and put it in my mouth.
A moan escapes my throat, and my eyes flutter as I savor that incredible taste.
Then I suddenly remember that I’m not alone at the table, and I snap my gaze back up to Jace.
He has his head cocked and he is watching me with an expression that I can’t quite read. That smug smirk from earlier is gone, and instead, there’s a soft smile on his mouth. It does strange things to my heart.
“You made this?” I ask while both confusion and amazement swirl inside me.
It’s a really stupid question, I know that. I literally saw him making the omelet when I walked out of my bedroom. But I still need to ask because… well, because I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that someone like Jace can make food like this.
He lifts his broad shoulders in a casual shrug. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I like food.”
“Yeah, I mean…” I trail off for a few seconds, trying to figure out what it is that I’m even asking. “I mean, why did you make it for me?”
Another casual shrug. “Like I said, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
For a few moments, we just watch each other from across the table. Jace is leaning back in his chair, his hands nonchalantly resting in his pockets, and a faint smile on his mouth. He’s the picture of casualness. But there is a glittering sparkle in his eyes now. And it makes my heart skip a beat.
Tearing my gaze from his, I continue eating and savoring the taste with each bite.
Jace just watches me in silence, but that sparkle remains in his eyes. As does the faint smile on his lips.
Once I’ve finished every single crumb, short of actually licking the plate, I look up and meet his eyes head on again.
“This was…” I begin, searching for the right word. “Delicious.”
His lips quirk up in a smirk. “I know.”
