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Six brioches and six granitas, one of each for all of us, including himself.

I laugh.

Of course.

“No, no.” Lexy immediately raises both hands. “I can't eat that right now.”

Wrong answer.

Damiano's uncle freezes, looking so offended you'd think Lexy had just informed him that Sicily is part of France.

“Lexy,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Take the brioche.”

“But I'm not hungry.”

“Take. The. Brioche.”

He pushes it towards her. “Mangia.”

She looks at me for help, but I nod gravely.

“Your life depends on it.”

Jude snorts beside me.

The uncle turns to him next, holding out another brioche. Jude studies it, then looks at me before turning back to the man.

“I just woke up.”

“Mangia.”

Jude takes it.

“Good choice,” I tell him, trying not to laugh at his expression.

He gives me a look, and I quickly accept mine before anyone has to threaten me.

The brioche is still soft and warm, with a little round top sitting above the golden bun, and the granita is cold enough that the first spoonful makes my teeth hurt.

Jude watches as I tear off a piece of brioche.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

I dip it into my granita and bring it to my mouth, closing my eyes as the sweetness hits my tongue.

Oh God, this is so good.

When I open my eyes, Jude is watching me with one eyebrow raised.

“Try it.”

He tears off a piece, dips it into the granita like I did and takes a bite. His eyes shoot to mine.

I smile. “Yeah?”