Page 94 of Allegiant

“I better. And I happen to remember the places that sound too healthy so I can avoid them.”

The curl in his lip is downright adorable.

“They offend you?”

“Damn right they do.”

A laugh escapes me, and I can’t help but lean over and press my lips to his cheek, wanting to pull his mouth to mine but not wanting to die in a fiery crash. So I hold back, just letting my hand trail across his chest and down to his firm abdomen. “But you look like you eat healthy. That six-pack and those pecs…”

“Good genetics. Trust me, I eat like shit.”

I’ve seen it. He’s speaking the truth, but damn, he must work out a lot because he does have the body of an athlete.

I curl my fingers against his stomach, and he reaches down, pulling my hand up to his lips and kissing the inside of my wrist.

“We’re here,” he says, and I blink, realizing he just parked the car. Damn, how did I not even notice that? He’s that mesmerizing. I’m seriously fucked. “Time to eat your lawn clippings.”

I snort and watch as he stalks around the front of his car and opens the door for me.

“Such a—” I begin, but he pulls me in for a kiss, stopping the word gentleman from leaving my lips. I don’t mind it. I really don’t.

My cock doesn’t either. It really, really wants to be touched and caressed.

But that will have to wait.

I do want to be fed, so when I step inside the cute little café, I sigh happily as I spot the menu. There is everything from avocado toast to oat milk lattes, and the salads are creative and fun. I end up ordering a warm farro bowl with tofu, sweet potatoes, and a miso-ginger dressing.

Lawn clippings my ass.

“For here or to go?” the girl behind the counter asks.

“To go,” Samson says, and I glance over at him.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he taps his phone on the card reader, paying for it.

He grunts. “Somewhere nice where I can watch you eat your soggy birdseed.”

I snort, the girl behind the counter muffling a laugh. At least he didn’t insult her by saying that, but then again, she does look young; she probably has no investment in this place. You don’t when you’re that age.

Part of me wishes it was like that with Rhythm. But that place owns part of my heart and my soul. It’ll never be mine, but it’ll never stop feeling like I own it either.

It’s a frustrating position to be in.

I nod toward the door. “Come on. Let’s wait for our order outside before you insult someone.”

He huffs, but softens when I place my hand in his and pull him toward the door.

The cool air outside makes me shiver, and when he notices, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.

“You need to bring a sweatshirt with you. You don’t have any fat on your body.”

“I know, but I was in a haze this morning and forgot. Besides, what if I like wearing your clothes?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. That sounds far too much like something a boyfriend might say.

Which isn’t what we are.

Right?