Page 33 of Sunflower Persona
Sheepishness replaces the annoyance as the embers turn to ash. After everything he’s done for me, I had to go and get snippy.
“I’m going to start a fresh batch.” His mere mention of food has my stomach growling again. “If you want to shower or use the restroom, it’s the room across from mine. Karis has some things here that you can use. I put them on the counter with a fresh towel.”
Breakfast sounds great, but a shower would be even better. I mumble out “Thanks” and head back in the direction I came.
Like everything else in this apartment, the bathroom is cramped and dated, yet clean. The stack of toiletries is exactly where he said it would be, but it’s more than some simple soaps and lotions. How often is she staying over to need all of this? Jealousy swarms in my chest. Even though Evelyn said there was nothing going on between Gage and his friend, the evidence here points in the other direction. There are more skincare products piled on the counter than I have back at my dorm, and it isn’t the cheap stuff, either. Who keeps a collection like that at “just a friend’s” house?
I crack open one of the bottles and take a deep sniff. The scent is nothing short of luxurious—rich and spicy in a way that’s meant to seduce. This one bottle probably costs more than my entire self-care collection. A few extra minutes won’t hurt. It’s not like breakfast is ready yet, and hedidsay to use whatever I want.
Thirty minutes and eight products later, I’m feeling much more like myself. My head still hurts, but the pain has dulled to an ache that’s easy to ignore. I slip his oversized clothes back on and head back to the kitchen, feeling like I’ve walked out of a spa.
Gage is leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, waiting for me to return. Two plates stacked high with pancakes sit next to him on the chipped linoleum. Maybe I could have done that a little faster, but his stoic face lacks condemnation. His eyes meet mine as I cross over the threshold, and the stony mask breaks as the corner of his lips twitches into a smile.
The look falters when I reach him, morphing into a pinched grimace that he quickly schools. But not quick enough I don’t notice.
“What was that look?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t ‘it’s nothing’ me.”
“You smell like Karis. I don’t like it,” he says with a grimace.
He doesn’t?
I’m not sure if I should be pleased or offended.
Before I can decide, he shakes away the expression and grabs his plate. “Come on. You need to eat.”
“Thank you.” I follow his lead and grab my plate.
My forehead pinches as I scan the space. There’s no table, or even stools to eat at the counter. It’s like no one ever eats in here at all. He sees my expression and grimaces before sitting on the dingy plaid couch. Springs fight to free themselves from the worn fabric, prodding my ass as I settle on the feeble cushion beside him.
“Normally, I just eat standing after I make something,” he says and takes a bite.
“You cook?”
He shrugs and shovels another forkful into his mouth.
“Not well, but some things are hard to fuck up. Like pancakes from a bottle.”
“And eggs,” I say as I push the scrambled fluff into the pooling syrup before taking a bite myself.
“Please tell me you did not just dip your eggs in syrup.”
“What? It’s good.”
He raises a disbelieving eyebrow before shaking his head with a huff.
“If you say so.”
“Try it,” I goad.
“I’m good.”
“Please, for me.” I flutter my lashes, giving him the most over-the-top pleading look I can muster.
“Fine,” he sighs, then dips his eggs into the sugar-filled liquid. He only chews once before his face twists in disgust, but he powers through and swallows.
