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Cheeks reddening, she placed a hand underneath the water and over her stomach. “I usually have a snack right after class, but I didn’t get much of a chance tonight. I’ll have something once I get back.”
When she stood up from the bath, the water and suds rolled down her body. I grabbed a towel from the closet and placed it around her shoulders to dry her off. Grasping the towel from me, she stepped out of the tub.
“Come with me,” I said once she was dry. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
She followed me to the kitchen, and I opened the fridge.
“I’m not much of a cook,” I admitted. “But I can have my chef make you something.”
“You have a chef?” she asked.
“He lives on the floor below,” I said, heading to my phone on the counter to call him.
“Don’t be silly. It’s almost midnight. I have snacks at home.”
“You’re hungry, Sierra. You’re going to eat.”
“No, I don’t need a full meal. Really.”
When she finally convinced me not to call Thornton, I opened the fridge and freezer to see if I had anything here that she’d want to eat. I rarely ate here anymore and spent most of my free time at Radiant or working on investing in startups.
“Oh my gosh!” she said, staring wide-eyed into the freezer. “You have so many boxes.”
I peered over her shoulder at the three empty boxes of Swirl Scoops Ice Cream that I had been meaning to throw out. These had been Mom’s favorites, and I had been sharing one with her—metaphorically—every night.
Scratching the back of my head, I pulled the empty boxes out of the freezer. “Yeah …”
“Are they that good?” she asked with a small smile.
“They’re pretty good,” I said.
She peered down into the freezer, spotting one last box. I folded the boxes and placed them in the recycle bin.
“If you’d like to, you can try one. There should be some left.”
She pulled out the last box and gazed down into it. “No, it’s fine.”
I took it from her and handed her the last ice cream cup. “Take it.”
“It’s your last one,” she said.
“I can buy more.”
After her stomach growled again, she finally took it from me. “Are you su—”
“Sierra,” I warned, wanting to feed her.
She was hungry and wanted one, and I was a shit cook.
“Fine,” she said, tearing open the top and sinking her spoon down into it. She took a big bite of the ice cream, pupils dilating. Before she could get another word out, she sank her spoon back into the cup. “Where do you get these?”
“Giant Eagle.”
Her eyes widened. “Giant Eagle Market District?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Which one? Shadyside or Robinson?”
