Page 148 of Raspados & Regret

This is becoming a serious problem.

His gaze drops to the bag in my hand. “What’s that?”

“My mother sent food.”

His mouth twitches. “Albóndigas?”

“Yes.”

His face does this tiny, unguarded thing. It’s all soft and hungry. Not just for food, and I nearly forgive him for not wearing a crop top.

“She said,” I begin, because I’m an asshole and cannot keep anything holy, “that I should make you work up an appetite.”

Fabián’s entire body goes still, then he slowly looks up at me. “She said that?”

“With a wink.”

His eyes close and I grin.

“Your ma’s scary.”

“She likes you,” I smirk.

“That’s worse.” He blows out a breath. “Now there are expectations.”

“She also told me you seem serious.”

He opens his eyes and something flickers there.

I step closer. “Are you?”

His jaw flexes. “Come inside.”

“That is not an answer.”

He steps aside. “Maybe if you come in… I’ll give you one.”

The air between us pulls tight.

Fabián reaches out, taking the bag from my hand, and says, “You look good.”

I blink, looking down at my dark navy shorts and white tank top. Nothing special.

He blinks.

“That compliment didn’t sound so painful,” I say.

“It was less painful than yesterday.”

“Progress.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” he says, giving me a half smile.

“You don’t regret me, remember?”

His eyes hold mine.

“No,” he says. “I don’t.”