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“He’s not smart enough for that.” I scoop food onto ceramic plates, grab silverware, bring everything to the table.
“He’s smarter than he acts.”
“Would it be possible for him to be stupider than he acts?”
Her laugh lights up her light eyes. “True.” She smiles as I hand over her fork. “This looks amazing.”
“Thanks.” I sit next to her.
“No.” She stabs a piece of chicken, brings it to her mouth, chews, talks with her mouth full. “Thank you.”
My cheeks flush. It’s weird, accepting gratitude.
I’m not used to it.
I can’t wrap my head around the idea of deserving it.
Making Leighton dinner is a selfish decision.
I want her eating with me. I want her groaning over how good the food is.
I want to fall asleep tonight, knowing she’s eating actual food.
Knowing someone is taking care of her.
I want to be that person.
“You’re welcome.” The words are awkward on my lips.
“God.” She lets out a soft moan. “You’re too good at this.”
I shoot her a curious look.
“I’m going to have to kidnap you.” She brings a slice of red pepper to her lips. “Force you to cook for me.”
“You c
ould just ask.”
“That’s less exciting than kidnapping.”
“You want to go?” I motion to the empty area between the TV and the couch. “See if you can overpower me?”
Her teeth sink into her lip. “Is this where you invite me to karate again?”
“It’s aikido.”
“Will people hit me?”
“You spar, yeah.”
“I’m out.” She leans back in her seat. Exaggerates a sigh of defeat. “I guess I have to ask nicely.”
“I’m waiting.”
“I’m thinking about it.” She takes a long sip of her water. “Are you?”
“Leigh—”
