Page 58 of Mine to Ruin

“Your love for food is something else.”

The waitress takes us to a table in the corner.

“I love that you know about all these places,” I say as we sit down and read through the menu.

“I eat too, you know.” The atmosphere is light and he leans in and says, “They have a mean steak here. The guys and I come here once in a while. Kendrick has the stomach of a mutant.” Warmth colors his words, and I love seeing him like this, carefree, opening up, at ease.

He cuts me pieces of his steak, and I offer him half of my burger, and the entire time we smile like idiots.

“So, I thought about an activity,” I say as I put the napkin on my plate at the end of my meal.

“I thought eating donuts counted as an activity for you.” He tries not to smile, but amusement still slips past.

“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him, but his good mood is contagious, so I drop the act.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, grinning, as he raises his palms in front of him in a show of innocence.

“I know something I would like to try.”

“What?” A small trace of suspicion flashes in his eyes.

“Fighting.”

He shakes his head and crosses his arms. “No.”

“Why not?” I huff, deflated, and I lean back against my chair.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I knew how to defend myself?”

This shuts him up, and he takes a sip of water before he adds, “No one would even dare to come near you.”

I lean back and look him straight in the eyes. “Regardless, Kian, I want to learn how to fight.”

He pins me with a serious stare and I cross my arms over my chest and jut my chin out.

“Teach me,” I press. “Otherwise, I am asking Kendrick.” Or Jason. If they have time, but he doesn’t have to know that. Both work as independent contractors and are more in the air, but I have yet to find out what exactly they do.

Kian raises his eyebrow in challenge. “Good luck.”

“So if he agrees, you’ll let him?” Hope rises in my chest. One way or another, someone will teach me.

Frustration oozes from him as he runs a hand through his hair.

“If someone teaches you, that’s me.”

Why does he have to be so stubborn? He acts like I am putting myself in danger when all I want is to be better equipped to protect myself.

“I admire your perseverance.”

His face softens, as if he can read why I want this.

“Afraid I’ll bring you down?” I ask and lift the glass of water to my lips.

He bends over the table, then says something that completely blows me away. “So, let’s assume I win, then you stay at my place from Friday to Sunday.”

“What?” I choke on my water.

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