Page 30 of Cosplay & Consequences

I watched in horror as he began to spiral. Without thinking, I reached across the table, grabbing and squeezing his hand. “Not at all.”

He looked at me in disbelief. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I assured him. “I have never seen anyone outside of literary circles make the connection to Falstaff and Roderick.”

“No, that was horrible of me,” he said, putting his hand over mine. “I feel like I’ve insulted your entire family.”

“You haven’t. I promise,” I said.

I saw the warmth creep back into his eyes, and I realized that both my hands were now around his. The sharp zing lit up my chest again. This time I didn’t hate myself for it.

“So,” he said, his voice quiet and curious. “How did the clown from Shakespeare inspire Roderick?”

I smiled. The story was told countless times to me as a child. “On the night my grandfather took her out for their first date, he tried to impress my grandmother by taking her to the theater. It was the Merry Wives of Windsor. She created Roderick to honor that moment. They were married sixty-three years.”

“So, it’s not just a character, it's a tribute to your grandfather,” he said, acknowledging my own thoughts. “No wonder it’s so important to you.”

I tried to think of something witty to say, but all I could do was gaze into his eyes and enjoy the feeling of his hands in mine. It was a perfect moment.

The server appeared with the next round of food, and I reluctantly released his hands. A plate of tiny, deep-fried dumplings sat in front of me. They looked golden brown and delicious. However, I had some trepidation about biting into something when I didn’t know the contents of it. The soup was amazing, but I was still a little wigged out from eating tentacles and shrimp heads.

“Have you eaten these before?” I asked.

He nodded, leaning back on his chair. “I have.”

I poked at one of the dumplings with my chopsticks. “What’s inside them?”

He laughed. “This whole meal is making you anxious, isn’t it?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I pleaded. “What’s inside?”

“Heaven,” he replied. “Try one. They’re delicious.”

I popped one into my mouth and moaned over how good it was. The crisp savory wrapping crackled when I bit into it, revealing a creamy texture and tiny lumps of crab meat and a few other things I couldn’t identify. I initially thought it was a crab rangoon, but it was definitely something else as the flavor profile changed. Somehow it was both sweet and umami at the same time. When I looked at Daniel, there was an expression on his face that I had seen once before. It took me a moment to realize that he wasn’t staring lustfully at me. He was looking at the plate of dumplings like a man denied pleasure for months.

I pushed the plate into the middle of the table. “Let’s share.”

“I shouldn’t,” he said, shaking his head.

“I won’t tell,” I promised. He hesitated, so I leaned over and put a pair of chopsticks in his hand before reciting one of my favorite Roderick quotes. “Feast now, for there may be no dawn to celebrate.”

He smiled. “The wine-tasting scene.”

My grin grew so wide it almost hurt my face. It was one of my favorite parts of The Chaos Trail. It was a small quote, but he remembered it from the book, which told me he wasn’t skimming through it. “The wine-tasting scene,” I repeated, that warmth going through my chest again.

I watched him pop one of the dumplings into his mouth, and his face went from smiling to ecstasy. He closed his eyes, savoring the food and letting out a small groan as he did.

“Well, there’s a face I’m familiar with.” I blushed, embarrassed to have said that out loud.

He almost choked on the dumpling. “Wow. Okay. I was not expecting that.”

“Sorry. It just came out.”

“Nothing wrong with a little outburst. Nothing at all,” he said with a smirk as he reached for another dumpling.

“Oh, aren’t you bold?” I teased and saw his hand retreat. “I’m kidding. Please, I had three drumsticks earlier today. I’m going to be rolling back to my hotel.”

We split the plate of dumplings between us.