Page 143 of Best Served Cold

“Not sure.” He kissed the back of my neck. “My phone died. Can you check yours?”

Fumbling, I angled my phone screen toward me. “Shit, it’s almost six.”

“How do you feel?” Zane asked.

“Not sure,” I said honestly. “Did you stay here this whole time?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Did you sleep?”

“For a bit.”

My stomach cramped as the need to pee hit hard.

“I have to use the…”

Zane let go of me, and the loss of his body contact sent a flash of cold through me.

Reluctantly, I sat up, then stood, groaning as my sore muscles screamed at me. I’d never understand how being in bed all day could be so physically taxing. I didn’t get this sore after a day of installing drywall.

I did my business as quickly as possible, trying not to think about how I’d just spent the entire day sleeping with Zane wrapped around me.

What did any of this mean?

“Hungry?” he asked when I came back to his room to find him sitting on his bed.

“No, but I should probably try to eat something.”

“How about some soup and maybe a grilled cheese?”

“Yeah. That might work.” I pressed a hand to my stomach as it growled. I was in that state where my body was starving but the thought of eating made me nauseated.

I followed Zane into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as he opened the fridge.

“There’s roasted tomato soup, and I think this is butternut squash.” He popped the lid off a container and sniffed it. “Yup. Butternut squash and ginger.”

“Maybe the tomato.”

“Can you try some grilled cheese?” He held up another container and flipped open the lid.

I’d expected the type of grilled cheese my mom used to make, which was essentially a slice of American cheese between fried sandwich bread. This one was made with thick slices of what looked like French bread, and had actual grill marks on it.

“Yeah, I can try.” My stomach growled again.

I watched as he puttered around the kitchen, heating up the soup on the stove and the grilled cheese in the oven. He also filled two tall glasses with ice water.

When the food was ready, we carried everything out to the living room.

We ate in silence, which was mostly because I had no idea what the fuck to say. The food was amazing, and I was able to eat every bite.

“Thanks.” I went to stand as he cleared my dishes.

“Sit, I got it.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yeah. Was it good?” He brought our dishes into the kitchen.

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