Page 80 of Hidden But Not Safe

Meg’s tongue poked out as she concentrated on stabbing the already smaller chunks of chicken she was making. She looked adorable, with that little flash of pink escaping her lips.

“There!” she declared when she was done, a pleased smile filling her face. “That’ll be easier. Let me just heat it up.”

He shook his head, but she wasn’t looking at him. The way he was feeling, the soup could burn the shit out of his throat, and he wouldn’t care. He’d choke down every bit he could.

Meg didn’t set the microwave for long, though. Slightly less than a minute. And when she pulled it out, she stirred and blew.

Naz leaned against the fridge and watched her. She was more beautiful than ever with her thoughts full of him.

“You never said how you and Diego met.” She continued to stir. “Maybe you can’t. I don’t want you to break any secrets or anything. What about how long ago it was? I’m guessing two years.”

Naz shook his head, pointing up.

“More than that? Three, then.”

He shifted his finger, pointing it higher.

“It couldn’t have been more than four.”

Naz kept his finger pointed.

Meg stopped stirring. “Five?”

He hesitated. He’d gotten used to thinking about it as five, but another year had passed.

“Shit, six?” Meg sighed, staring down at the bowl again. “Six is a lot of years to beat.” She took the spoon out, clinking it against the side. “I can do it. I’ve got tits you like to look at.”

His huff of a laugh mixed with her giggle when she looked up and winked at him.

“I like making you laugh.” She grabbed the plastic coffee thermos, holding it over the sink to pour into. Her hands were steady, and she only lost a little to the drain. “I think I’m going to like feeding you, too.” She handed the capped cup of soup to him.

The hole in the plastic lid looked smaller than he’d thought. He was going to make a mess like a goddamn baby.

“Did I ever tell you why giraffes are my favorite?” Meg asked, the question distracting him.

While he drank, focusing on each movement of his mouth and throat, he listened to her talk about a trip to the zoo as a kid. She’d stolen the money from her father and forged his signature. She’d been young at the time, in elementary school, younger than the age when Naz had been snatched up.

There was a wistfulness when Meg talked about watching the other kids paying to feed the giraffes. She talked about the animals’ long tongues, how they grasped the branches and tugged so hard at the leaves. She’d been fascinated by their tall legs, even the young ones, and how they didn’t wobble or fall at all. One giraffe had looked right at her, ignoring the kid who had paid to feed him but tried to hold on to the branch as long as he could.

Meg had wanted the giraffe to headbutt the little jerk with its small horns. The boy had always been a bully.

The giraffe’s eyes had been a deep brown, darker than the patches all over its skin. She’d felt special, the way he’d looked at her.

Meg’s eyes smiled into Naz’s as he realized he’d been watching her the whole time he’d choked down his soup.

His thermos was empty. He’d been hungrier than he’d wanted to admit. Moisture tickled down his chin.

Meg moved forward, drying his chin with a napkin. She slid it down after, and Naz lifted his head to give her more room to rub over his neck. He hadn’t felt anything there, but sometimes his food dripped that far.

Her finger brushing over his Adam’s apple caused a ripple of sensation to shiver through him.

“Your neck isn’t half bad,” Meg murmured, pulling away. “It’s pretty long, but you’re no giraffe.” She snort-laughed as she moved to throw out the empty can and the napkin. “That polo shirt made your neck look ridiculous. Your normal black one is better.”

She made eating seem so easy.

Naz turned toward the sink, rinsing out the cup as his eyes burned in a way he didn’t know how to deal with.

Chapter 24

---