Page 89 of The Venom We Bleed

The illumination of yellow gas station lights draws closer. Lex doesn't answer me as he directs the front of the car into the lot and then pulls it up to a pump. I relax back into the seat but watch him out of the corner of my eye. Lex shuts off the vehicle and gets out, keys in hand as he goes to perform the task of fueling the car.

When he gets back inside, Lex cranks the engine, but instead of pulling around to the exit, he drives forward and parks along the side of the gas station where a shitty diner faces towards the interstate. I frown at the open sign as he shuts off the vehicle once more and gets out.

He rounds the front of the SUV and stops next to my door, popping it open. I eye him. “I’m tired, Lex,” I say. “I want to go home.”

Not that Nolan’s house is my home. For that matter, neither is my currently unlivable apartment. His gaze pierces me, then he leans in close. My breath catches as the smell of him invades my personal space. Cheap soap and shampoo should not be that enticing.

I'm so focused on how close he is, how the heat and scent of him comes over me in waves even though he hasn't even touched me, that I don't notice that he's unsnapping my seatbelt until the thing loosens against my chest and slides back.

"What—" I reach for it, but he stops me with a hand and a shake of his head.

"Come on," he says quietly, nodding back to the diner. "I'm going to feed you."

"I'm not hungry." As soon as the words leave my lips, my stomach chooses that moment to announce its dedication to Team Lex in an aggressive rumble.

I close my eyes again and silently curse. Doing a quick tally of how much I have in my bag from tonight's tips, I look across the way at the shiny interior of the diner. With disgust at my easy capitulation, I get out of the vehicle. Lex shuts the door behind me and moves towards the entrance. Keeping my arms secured around myself, hands gripping my elbows as if they're a lifeline, I don't look up as I follow him into the building.

The smells hit me—burned coffee and something sweet and sugary. I lift my head and spy the small glass case by the registerto the side. Various deserts from pies to cookies decorated with bright cheery colors are on display. My mouth waters. When was the last time I had something sweet?

A strong male hand reaches back and pries one of my arms out, fingers locking around first my wrist and then moving down until our palms are against one another. Lex doesn't look back at me as he pulls me along, leading me down a row of red-vinyl booths. He gets to the last one and gestures for me to sit down. I glance back at the direct line to the exit and then to the seat he wants me to take.

With my free hand, I point to the booth seat with its back against the wall. "Can I sit there?" I ask.

Ash gray eyes watch me and Lex releases my hand as if that's his answer. I hurry by him and feel my shoulders relax marginally with something solid at my back. When he takes his seat across from me, he shifts uncomfortably, and for a moment, I wonder if he has the same issues as I do. Before I can ask, though, a harried, rail-thin woman appears at the edge of the table with a notepad in hand and not one, not two, but three pens stuck through the bun at the back of her head.

"What'll it be?" she asks expectantly.

I scramble for the menus set towards the window, but before I can even lay a finger on the grease-stained plastic folders, Lex speaks up. "Two waters, two specials—one with no mayo—a coffee, and a slice of apple pie with ice cream on the side."

I gape at the man across from me, but the woman wastes no time in scribbling the order on her pad and disappearing back down the row of half-empty tables and booths.

"Did you just order for me?" I ask.

Lex meets my gaze and nods.

"Why?"

"I’ve been here before," he says. “I know what you’ll like.”

I shake my head. “What makes you so sure?”

“It's a turkey club sandwich with fries," Lex replies. "Without mayo. I know you don't like it."

"And the coffee and apple pie?" I ask. He can't know what my favorite dessert is.There's no fucking wa?—

"Coffee is for me," he answers. "Apple pie and ice cream is for you."

Something about the way he stares at me tells me it isn't. I press my back against the worn seat and frown. A prickle of awareness stings the back of my neck and to calm my racing heart, I turn away from the man in front of me to examine the interior of the roadside restaurant. There aren't that many customers at this time of night. A plump woman with a rambunctious little boy bobbing his head and swinging his legs to some silent tune in his head as he scribbles on a piece of paper sits in a booth towards the entrance. There’s a flannel-wearing truck driver by the counter and an older couple at a lower table on the opposite side of the entire restaurant—as far from the convenience section of the gas station attached to this place as they can get—their white hair barely puffs above the chairs and booths between us.

I clench my hands into fists and then release them only to repeat the action. I don't stop until the waitress returns, two glasses of water and a small mug of coffee in tow. Setting everything down along with creamer and sugars next to the black coffee that smells more like motor oil than the real—non-instant—stuff, she heads back around the corner as a cook rings a bell in the slit of a window above the drink machines.

Needing to do something, I reach out and snatch several napkins from the black and white container pinning the menus against the window. Slowly, methodically, I pull apart the two-ply paper and then scrunch the centers. I'm aware of Lex's eyes lingering on me as I work, but it takes considerable effort to dothis without ripping the cheap tissue paper and still make it turn out the way I want it to.

"Flowers?" he finally guesses as I finish the first one and set it aside to grab a few more napkins.

"Yeah," I mumble, starting the process all over again. "I was on the Student Council Committee at Silverwood Prep for Junior year. We sponsored the prom." Both Avery and Brandon had bailed on helping.

"Public has a prom too, you know," Lex mentions.

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