Page 37 of Rooster

What I've done in the past has led me to a really traumatizing place in my life, so change will have to be a good thing.

"Here," he says, offering me both a knife and a fork. "Sometimes the bottoms get a little tough. Want something to drink?"

"A bottle of water would be great," I say, wishing I could guzzle a bottle of whiskey instead.

He turns, pulls two bottles from the fridge, and slides one across to me before he picks up an entire Hot Pocket, lifting it to his mouth and biting off the end.

Melty cheese pulls out, hitting his chin while he makes huffing noises because the damn thing is fiery hot.

"So good," he says while still chewing, and it's somehow adorable rather than being rude.

I cut into mine, stabbing a normal-sized bite with my fork before lifting it to my mouth and blowing on it for a long moment.

He watches me, his eyes on my mouth. I know he's just waiting to see what I think about the snack, but my mind wants to conjure up all sorts of reasons why his attention is locked there.

I feel self-conscious, covering my mouth with my hand after I pull the bite off the fork so I can chew.

"And?" he asks after I swallow.

"Not terrible, but I don't think it'll become a staple of my diet anytime soon," I answer as I cut another piece.

"It's worth every single sit-up, every step on the treadmill," he says before taking another massive bite.

"My gym time hasn't been what it should be in the last couple of months," I confess. "Mostly because of how often I go out after work for a few drinks."

"You look fantastic," he says almost absently, and I know better by now than to read too much into his words.

"Thank you," I say, lifting my second bite to my mouth. "Ugh."

I chew and swallow despite the way it makes my stomach turn because spitting it out would embarrass me more than this second bite grosses me out.

"Still cold in the middle?" he says, and I nod. "Yeah, that's the one bad thing about this stuff. The ends can be the temperatures of hell and take several layers off your tongue, and the middle could still be frozen solid and chip a tooth. It's a crapshoot, really."

Having learned my lesson, I don't bother to take another bite. It isn't a hardship to watch as he eats three before staring down at what is left of mine on the plate.

"It's yours," I say, pushing the plate closer to him.

His grin is wide, making me wonder if he was just sharing to be nice and had every intention of eating four of these things before I interrupted him.

"I swear I can't believe you don't weigh five hundred pounds."

"I don't even have a food baby," he says, lifting his shirt long enough for my eyes to fixate on that trail of hair that runs from his belly button down into his jeans.

"Men have all the luck," I mutter. "I probably gained ten pounds from those two bites I took."

"I doubt it, but like I said, we can hit the gym."

"Are you guys going to work out?"

I turn my attention behind me, smiling when I see Kaylee walking up in a swimsuit cover-up holding a massive towel.

"I was checking to see if you might want to get into the hot tub."

"I thought you were busy for the next two hours," I challenge, remembering what Ellis had said on his way from the room not half an hour ago.

"Not busy," she says, purposely avoiding eye contact with Ellis when he enters the room and goes to the fridge.

"Is this some sort of sex game?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at my best friend.

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