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“Uh, yeah,” I croaked, looking down at the key in my hand and parting my lips to say that I’d better go check out and I’d see him at work. Instead, I heard myself blurt, “Do you want to get some breakfast?”
He blinked. “Breakfast?”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “There’s a diner down the street. It’ll be open now.”
He stared at me. Then his gaze dipped to my mouth, making me wet my lips in reflex. Finally, he said, “Yes. Alright.”
“Okay.” Had we really both just willingly decided to spend more time together outside of fucking like animals? Had I really just asked him to have breakfast with me? “Uh, let me just—I’ll go check out and then you can follow me.”
“Alright,” he repeated, looking a little stunned.
I turned and walked quickly to the front office, intent on just dropping the key on the counter and leaving before the horny incubus could say anything to me. But when I stepped in there, I saw that he was passed out on the desk with a little puddle of drool forming under his cheek.
When I quietly set the key on the counter, I noticed that he wasn’t wearing any pants, just a pair of skimpy boxer briefs with little lovehearts on them.
No, wait, my mistake. They were ballbags. Of course they were.
Crossbody was still standing in the exact same place when I got back outside. He slowly walked toward his car as I unlocked mine and tugged open the door.
“See you there,” I said, voice a little gruff and awkward.
“Yes,” he said faintly as I glanced over. Our eyes met for a second before I ducked into my car and closed the door.
Chapter Thirty
Compromise
Vince
Five minutes later, Crossbody and I walked in silence into David’s Diner. It hadn’t been open long and was mostly empty, just a few truckers sitting at the counter and sipping coffee.
This wasn’t a place run by supernaturals, but I could see that the waitress behind the counter was another ghoul under her human skin. She gave me a brief nod when our eyes met as I led Crossbody over to a booth.
When I sat down on one side, he hesitated for a second before sliding in on the other, his long legs bumping mine.
I noticed him looking around almost in fascination, so I curiously asked, “Have you never been to a diner before?”
He’d been living here six years. Surely he had.
He shook his head. His expression grew a little daunted when I handed him one of the big, laminated menus, which should not have been endearing. But it was. For fuck’s sake.
“There are a lot of options,” he commented huskily after a few seconds of staring at it.
My mouth twitched. “Yeah. But it’ll all be good. Places like this always have the best food.”
“Do they?” he asked as if I’d just revealed a well-guarded secret.
“Yeah. Well, I mean, I think so.” I looked down, picking at the bent corner of my menu. “Probably won’t be the stuff you’re used to.”
I wondered what he usually ate. If he ever did go out for dinner, it was probably to fancy restaurants and stuff. Who were his friends outside of work?
Did he date a lot?
As if he’d heard my thoughts, he quietly admitted, “I don’t go out to dinner much.”
I looked up in time to see him blush and bend his head further over the menu, studying it intently.
He didn’t? But… surely he had people clamouring to date him. To take him out to nice places. His attitude could be a little crappy, but he was jaw-droppingly beautiful.
