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My jaw dropped again. “How is that humanly possible?”
Johnny smirked. “I make it work.”
“How?” I asked, thoroughly intrigued now.
“By spacing out my meals,” he explained. “Eat the right stuff at the right time.” He shrugged before adding, “I usually eat every two or three hours. My nutritionist says that’s the best fit for my body.”
“So, you’re on a feeding schedule?” Snickering, I added, “Like a baby.”
Johnny flashed me an indulgent smile and took a deep swig of his diluted orange.
Ignoring the loud group of girls at a nearby table, I concentrated on the boy in front of me. “So, you can’t have anything nice?”
“Define nice?”
“Coke. Chocolate. Ice cream. Crisps,” I reeled off a short list of my favorite treats. “Sour gummies. Coco Pops. Pizza. Cheeseburgers. Chips. Chinese food. Doughnuts—”
“I’m in the middle of a season,” Johnny interrupted, giving me an affronted look. “The only things that go into my body are organic, unprocessed, and loaded with protein.”
I gaped at him. “Not even a rich tea biscuit?”
Johnny shook his head.
“Why—oh my god! Is it because you would get into trouble with those rugby academy people?” My eyes widened at the injustice. “My brother Joey told me about how they groom young boys like puppies.” Horrified, I asked, “Do they give you a list of banned foods and then punish you if you eat them?”
“No,” Johnny drawled slowly, frowning now. “The fuck kind of place do you think the Academy is?”
“If you’re not allowed to eat treats, then a terrible place,” I answered solemnly.
“Eating clean is my choice,” he explained, watching me with a bemused expression. “I’m not forced to do anything. My life is on my terms. And not stuffing my face with processed sugar-loaded shite is called being healthy and exercising self-control.”
“But all the time?” I questioned. “Like 24/7?”
“I have an all-nothing attitude,” he replied. “I’m either all in with something or I’m not wasting my time. There’s no point doing something half-arsed.”
“Well, I’m sad for you,” I announced. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Slipping my hand into my skirt pocket, I dragged out the half-eaten chocolate bar—my favorite brand—and took a quick peek to check the waitress wasn’t watching me bring food on the premises before dangling it in front of his face.
“The smell is the best part,” I told him. “And you get endorphins from these, too.”
His lips twitched. “I train six hours a day, Shannon. I don’t need to supplement endorphins with a chocolate bar.”
Ripping off the wrapping, I held it in front of his nose for a few moments.
“Sniff it,” I encouraged, feeling oddly at ease with him. “Go on.”
“Get out of it.” Johnny laughed, gently batting my hand away.
“Your loss,” I said with a shrug, then bit off a square of chocolate, moaning when the delicious chocolaty goodness hit my tongue.
“Your gain,” he scoffed, as he swirled a clunk of ice around in his glass.
“Wow,” I snorted, slipping the chocolate back into my pocket. “If I was a bigger girl, you could have seriously hurt my feelings.”
“What?” Panic flashed across his face. “Fuck, no! It was a joke.” He leaned forward in his seat. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t calling you fat… You’re the tiniest thing I’ve ever… Shite, you’re so small I could—”
“Relax,” I snickered. “I’m not offended.”
