Page 80 of Austen Persuaded

“Hey,” he said, “I brought a few different things, not sure what you’d want. Oh, uh … are you all right?” he asked, noticing my scowl.

I forced a polite smile. “I’m fine. And thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” Obviously, letting me into his home was the very last thing he wanted. And now, serving me food? He had to be hating every moment of this. Understandably.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his voice sounding gruff as he set out the tray of food options and hot chocolate on the coffee table. “I have some lasagna, rice pilaf, banana, and … well, you can see everything. Hopefully you can find something here that looks edible. You need to regain some strength.”

My breath caught when he said lasagna, and my face softened as memories flooded my vision. Memories of the two of us, eating at our favorite little Italian place, right off campus, nearly every weekend. It was cheap but good. He wasn’t really adventurous withfood back then, but lasagna was something we could always agree on. It became our go-to order for dates or even for ordering in.

Surely he remembered.

I dared to raise my eyes to his.

Or maybe not.

He looked as disgruntled as he always did in my presence.

“Eat,” he said sharply as he perched on the other end of the sofa.

I drew in a breath and sat up straighter. “All right, geez.”

He said nothing while pushing the tray closer to me. But I was incredibly thirsty and took a sip of the hot chocolate first.

A sound escaped my throat, and it was probably a bit inappropriate in front of my boss, but I didn’t care. The drink was absolutely delicious.

The perfect blend of hot chocolate, marshmallows, and caramel—wait a minute.

He has to remember.

Everyone likes hot chocolate, but not everyone puts caramel in it.

He remembers how I like my hot chocolate!

I took another sip, closing my eyes to savor it before opening them and daring to meet his eyes.

He was staring. But likely unaware he was doing so. I lowered my eyes and set the cup down. “This all looks delicious … lasagna, always a favorite,” I said casually, my glance sliding back up to his.

He sat further back against the cushions, nodding slightly while watching me.

After taking a few bites of everything, I sighed. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. When I set down my utensils, he barked, “Keep eating.”

My eyes flashed as I turned to him with rising ire. “Excuse me? I’ll stop eating whenIwantto stop.”

He opened and closed his mouth and then crossed his arms over his chest. Focusing on my anger was hard though because …those arms. He’d always had a nice form, but had he been so muscular back in college? I didn’t think so—I’d remember if he looked likethis. He hadn’t been a gym type. But the new Kylan had to be a gymtype. His biceps were fairly bursting to escape the sleeves. I frowned, realizing the totally pointless direction of my thoughts and feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Well, at least you’re getting some color back. You were so pale and clammy before,” he observed quietly. “I … sorry if I’ve been a little overbearing. I’ve just been worried. You are … you were not in a good way.”

My lips curved into a small smile in surprise. “Thank you for that. Overbearing is putting it mildly.” When his brows furrowed, I added, “I’m so glad you were there to help though. I don’t know what I would’ve done if … well, I don’t want to think about it.” I sipped more hot chocolate, which was more like warm chocolate by this point but still delicious. “I just realized drinking hot chocolate might not be the best idea if you’re about to take my temperature. Unless you have a forehead or ear thermometer?”

“It’s no matter. We won’t be taking your temperature for a while yet anyway. Kelly told me it’s best to wait at least a half hour after bathing, ideally longer, to take someone’s temperature.”

“Oh, uh, OK,” I said, my brain scrambling to keep up.

So we have to sit here longer and make awkward small talk before I can take a nap. Great.

And who is this Kelly?

The last thing I want to do is ask, but it would be weird if I didn’t, right?

“Kelly? Is she your, uh …”

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