Page 78 of Fallen Empire
I froze. “Back to the office? She’s not tending the clubs today?”
Ben’s jaw twitched. Barely. But enough for me to catch it. “I’m sure she will later. She’s got a little clean-up to do after everything that happened.”
He eyed me, and the weight of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. “You okay?”
“Actually…” I trailed off, pressing a hand to my stomach. “I’m famished.”
He chuckled. Soft, warm, completely unaware of the effect it had on me.
And just like that, my stomach flipped. Stupid little butterflies. Like they hadn’t already been scorched once.
I hated it.
“Want me to grab you a sub?” he asked, nodding toward the glass case of food near the kitchen window—some tragic combination of cold pizza and wilted salad.
I cringed. “Umm, no thank you. Can you take me to get some real food?”
“Take you?”
“Yeah. Is that too much to ask?” I snapped, more defensively than I meant to.
“Yesterday you pitched a fit when I suggested you leave to take care of yourself. Now you want me to take you for food?”
What the fuck was his problem?
Yesterday, Savannah’s life still hung by a thread. I didn’t know if she’d come back, or slip into that light people talk about when the end starts to feel like peace.
Maybe I’d overestimated his feelings for me. Maybe he wasn’t that into me after all.
“You know what, forget it. I’ll call an Uber.”
I started to stand, heat rushing to my cheeks. But he grabbed my arm, firm and steady, and pulled—gently guiding me back into the seat.
“Millie,” he said, voice low. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Anytime. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… comforting. That you’re taking care of yourself.”
Oh.
Well that was a nice comeback.
All that mental chaos brewing in my head for nothing. Always assuming the worst-case scenario.
“You want pasta?” he asked, a wicked grin tugging at his lips, one brow arched like he already knew the answer.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me because it was my favorite, or because his mind had drifted back to what we’d done.
Either way, it didn’t matter.
My stomach answered for me, roaring at the mention alone.
Or maybe it was just the fact that I hadn’t had a real meal in days. I’d had pasta yesterday, sure, but I’d devoured it before Icould even taste it. Cold noodles. Stale bread. And a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
He stood up, grabbing his keys from the table. “C’mon then. Let’s get you something hot. And I’m not talking about me this time.”
I didn’t miss the grin that came with it, or the way his voice dipped just enough to make my skin hum.
I tilted my head, lips curving in a way that caught even me off guard. “Debatable.”
He blinked. Just for a second. Like I’d thrown him off balance.
