I plunge a chip into the gooey perfection and shove the entire thing into my mouth, closing my eyes.
“Oh my God,” I moan as I chew and swallow.
Axle’s eyes are on me. “Good?”
“So good.”
His eyes heat as they flick to my mouth. It’s the kind of look that makes my stomach flutter.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen chips make a woman moan like that.”
“Then they’ve never had good queso.”
I reach for another chip, but Axle suddenly leans toward me, and I freeze.
His hand comes up.
For a dizzying second, I completely forget how to breathe as his thumb brushes the corner of my mouth.
He pulls away, holding a tiny smear of cheese. “There.”
My pulse short-circuits as he casually sucks it off his thumb.
He looks entirely too pleased with himself.
I grab another chip before I say something embarrassing. I dip it into the cheese and scoop up a massive bite.
Then hold it out toward him.
His gaze drops to the chip.
Then lifts to mine.
The room instantly feels much smaller. I don’t know why offering someone a chip feels so intimate. But somehow, it does.
Axle leans forward. Never taking his eyes off me. Then takes the bite directly from my fingers.
My pulse does another stupid little kick as he swallows and then licks his lips.
“Good, right?” I ask.
His smile turns lazy. “Delicious.”
“There’s this food truck that sits in the parking lot across from our apartment building back in Aurora, called La Cocinita de Abuelita, which I learned means Grandma’s Little Kitchen in Spanish. It stays open from noon to, like, two in the morning. My roommates and I can’t pronounce half the stuff on the menu, but everything is cheap, authentic, and incredible. Better than anything you could get in an expensive Mexican restaurant. My favorite order for late-night study sessions or true crime binges is the tacos de birria, elote, and …”
“Queso,” he guesses.
I nod. “Abuelita’s Queso Fundido. I love it so much that I order it every single night. So, when one of the guys found out I was going to be away all summer, he gave me his grandmother’s secret recipe. He even gave me a tutorial on how to make it. It’s usually served with warm tortillas instead of chips, but I had to compromise.”
He grins. “Sounds like someone was trying to impress the pretty college girl.”
Pretty.
Axle Trust thinks I’m pretty.
I let out a nervous laugh and sink further into my pillows.
The wine settles warmly in my stomach, and I reach for the remote perched on the edge of the bed and hit Play. Then plump another pillow behind my head and stretch out beside him.
