Page 50 of The Silent War
“Thank you. You make it very hard to stay mad at you.”
Between Bastion pulling me from a car wreck and Lucanever leaving the hospital. Every day that passed, it was harder to keep a wall up with them.
He smirked, just enough to make my own lips twitch. “I can bring pizza if it makes you forgive us faster.”
“Luca Crow. Always thinking.”
A knock at the door. A nurse pushed in a covered tray, slid it onto the side table, and left without a word.
I frowned. “That isn’t hospital food.”
I lifted the lid. Pasta I hadn’t tasted in months from Ember & Ice. My favorite dish. Down to the garlic bread.
“You had this delivered?”
He didn’t answer. Just slid the tray closer.
“I’m not hungry.” I pushed it away an inch.
“You need to eat.” He pulled it back toward me.
“My arm’s sore. And I’m not hungry.”
It was a lie. I was hungry. But he was making me incredibly nervous. That was when I saw it in his eyes. He knew. Luca always knew.
He picked up the fork, twirled the pasta without looking away, then held it out.
I hesitated.
“Please, baby. For me.”
How did that one word still have such an effect on me. I leaned forward and took the bite.
“You think carbs make up for three years?” I asked, after swallowing, trying to make this feel lighter.
“They bought me five more minutes with you last time. I’ll take it.”
The door opened again.
Bastion.
What were the chances out of everyone to find me that night, it was him. That same question had been playing on my mind for days.
“She’s being difficult,” Luca said, still watching me. “Won’t eat.”
I shot him a half-glare. Seriously.
“That true, angel?” Bastion asked, dragging chair beside the bed, and sat.
“No,” I said stubbornly.
I sighed and leaned toward Luca’s fork, taking another bite. Then turned, finding Bastion’s eyes. “Your turn.”
“I’m not eating your food,” he muttered.
“I can bet you two haven’t eaten today.” I glanced between them. “I’m not taking another bite until you do.”
I grabbed a piece of bread, tore it in two, held it out—one half toward each.
