Considering how reluctant Sigyn was to take my sandwich, and how she sat all bunched up on the bench in jail, I was scared she’d eat like a bird. Or worse, not eat at all. Especially when I led with fucking vegetables. Could I have been any more insensitive to her weight?
Hi, you’re clearly self-conscious about your size, but let me offer you some green vegetables like I’m not thinking about your appearance.
Fucking idiot.
We’ve polished off a selection of appetizers so she could try a few different things. And to my absolute delight, she matched me damn near bite for bite.
I love a woman with an appetite.
For food and fucking.
It took her a while to come around on the poutine—I think it was the squeaky cheese that put her off at first. But once she got used to the strangeness that is the Canadiandelicacy of fries topped with cheese curds and brown gravy, she couldn’t get enough.
We ended up fighting over the last few spoonfuls of sprouts, used the mozzarella sticks as pretend swords to battle over the last one, and when I reached to pick up the bill she tried to stab my hand with a fork.
She’s savage, and I fucking love it.
“What’s that look for? Never seen a girl pay for dinner before?”
“Actually, you’re the first. But the look was more satisfaction that you ate in front of me.”
She sucks her cheek into her mouth and blows it back out with a pop, tilting her head. “Why wouldn’t I eat in front of you? I ate your witchcrafty sandwich earlier, remember?”
“You did, but you felt a little reluctant, and you kept hugging your stomach. I got the impression you were…I dunno. Self-conscious? Then I fucked up with the sprouts thing. I wasn’t being offensive—I just really like the sprouts here and think everyone should try them.” I’m in full word-vomit mode but can’t seem to stop myself. “You’re absolutely fucking beautiful. You’re sarcastic, funny, and smart as hell, and I don’t care if you never eat vegetables for the rest of your life.”
Her face softens as she flashes a rare and blinding smile. “I was reluctant because a strange man offered me something from a brown paper bag in a fake prison cell. Not because I was self-conscious about eating in front of you.” She chortles. “I’m definitely self-conscious about my size. Sometimes. Feels like no matter what, I try to lose weight but it doesn’t go anywhere, so I’m working on liking myself just as I am. Thanks for being considerate about it, though. My ex…” Her eyes fall to something invisible on the table in front of her.
Knuckle under her chin, I tip her head back. I’m not letting her shy away from this conversation or letting her thinkit’s a conversation sheneedsto shy away from. “What about your ex?”
She shrugs, her shoulders slumping. “Hockey player. All protein, all the time.”
I wince. While a healthy, relatively balanced diet is part of my life, I also work out so much I can afford to be more lax with what I eat. But some of the guys on my team, well, they sound a lot like Sigyn’s ex.
“You’re absolutely fucking beautiful.” I repeat my words in the hope she’ll believe them.
Her cheeks turn a dark shade of red, making her freckles stand out even more. “You’re just saying that because you want in my pants.”
“You’re right. I do want in your pants. But you’re also breathtakingly stunning. And I don’t care what you eat, or what you wear, or whether you work out or not. Life’s too short to be miserable about how we look just because society makes us feel like shit if we don’t fit into a certain box. Remember that when you’re deciding whether to come out with me for a second date.”
“We aren’t dating.”
“We’ll see.”
The corners of her lips twitch as she gestures at my body, then at her own. “I have rolls.”
My turn to shrug. “I’ll bring the butter.”
She cracks up into hysterical laughter, knocking her fork off the table.
“Are we fucking? Or am I taking you home?”
Her face grows even darker at my crassness. But there’s no point in beating about the bush, I desperately want to take this girl to bed, and I need her to know it.
“I could definitely be down for some fucking.” She’s barely finished her sentence when I bound outof my seat, offering her my hand and grabbing the pizza I insisted we get to go with the other.
“No time like the present, Firecracker. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
She ignores every one of my directions to where I live and drives us back to the dorms on campus instead. I guess she wants to pass out in her own bed when I’m done making her scream Loki’s name all night.
