Page 105 of Heart Sick Hate

“I didn’t say I wasn’t hungry.” I walk into the room, pulling down the bottom of the oversized Iron Maiden T-shirt he left for me to wear. “I just didn’t know you could cook.”

I tug the hem of his T-shirt again out of habit. Even if I know Crew loves every inch of my marked skin, Rhett’s been slowly training my mind to be more self-conscious.

“Fuck no, I can’t cook.” Crew laughs.

The sound is so unlike him, I can’t help but fall for him a little harder. Last night when he said he loved me, and I didn’t say it back, it wasn’t because I don’t feel the same. I’m just scared of what it means for me. I don’t know how to choose myself and what I want over the promises I’ve made.

I drop down onto the couch beside him. “Where did you get these then?”

“Fel brings me food.” He shrugs. “The one and only perk of living across the hall from those two.”

“You’re kidding?” I can’t help but laugh. “And Jude doesn’t mind?”

“I’m sure he does, but that chick loves pissing him off.”

He’s not wrong. Fel’s favorite hobby is pushing Jude to his limit just so he can make her pay for it. Something I didn’t understand until I involved myself with Crew Kingsley. Because pushing his buttons might be my favorite form of foreplay.

“So does she know I’m here then?”

“Nah, she doesn’t come in.”

His mood shifts, but I pretend not to notice. Facing this with him is one thing, but I still don’t know how we’ll navigate it outside these walls. Instead, I grab my fork and take a bite of my pancakes.

“So if you never cook, what do you eat?” I try to cut through the tension now palpable in the room.

“Anything that comes made and packaged.” Crew shrugs. “Or I order out.”

“Of course you do.”

“Something wrong with that?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s just a waste, that’s all.”

“Of what?”

“Money.”

I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth. I didn’t mean to say that. Crew makes me too comfortable. I don’t let anyone see my insecurities, especially men who clearly don’t share in them.

Everything about Crew’s apartment is expensive. And even if I know it’s because he worked hard for it, I also know he was raised with certain advantages. We didn’t experience the same struggles, and I don’t like anyone knowing I’m still affected by mine.

Crew sets down his fork, watching me as I shove another bite in my mouth.

“Sore subject?”

“No.” I stuff more food in, but even chewing doesn’t help dislodge the knot in my throat.

My blush burns hot on my cheeks, and when Crew won’t stop watching me, I finally set my fork down and lean back against the couch, swallowing my bite and combing my fingers through my hair.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.” His expression softens with his tone, and I hate it.

He’s easier to deal with when he’s evil and devious. But right now, when he’s looking too closely at all my scars, he’s digging into wounds I don’t like to think about.

Tucking my legs up under me, I turn on the couch to face him, leaning with my back against one of the arms. He isn’t going to let this go, and I can’t expect him to continue opening up to me if I’m not going to do the same.

“I didn’t grow up with money.”

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