He glances over his shoulder. “You hate cooking. So I brought takeout.”
He shrugs out of his suit jacket and hangs it on the back of one of the bar stools. Then, as if he’s been here a million times before, starts opening cabinets and taking down plates and glasses.
“Make yourself at home,” I mutter.
“I brought Chinese and Mexican. Pick your pleasure.”
His choice of words is just begging for a comment but I can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s hoping I take the bait.
Pick my pleasure, huh?
Why don’t you put yourself on a plate and let me taste that?
Instead I open the first bag and start pulling out containers. The fragrant smells make my mouth water instantly.
“Chinese or Mexican? How do I choose?”
“Let’s go with all of the above,” Vin suggests. He pushes a container of enchiladas across the counter to me before sticking some chopsticks into a carton of Lo Mein.
“That sounds good to me.” I snag an eggroll from the open container so I can get a taste before they start to get soggy.
“Not that I’m complaining but you still haven’t told me why you’re here. And how you’re here? How did you get my address?”
He slurps up a noodle before reaching for the eggrolls. “I have my ways.”
“You’re such a stalker.”
He hesitates. “When Casey sent me your info, she sent me the contact she has for you in her phone. Name, address, phone number, email address–”
“Okay, I get the picture. Now you have everything you need to steal my identity. Great.”
He laughs. “That’s not what I want from you.”
“No comment.”
“You’re no fun. Where’s the girl who brought a demon baby on our first date?”
I freeze with a mouthful of enchilada. We still haven’t talked about what happened. Talk about an elephant in the room.
We chew in silence for a minute before I put the enchilada down on my plate.
“I really am sorry about leaving like that. Mya had just started competing for the Lavin account at work. It was such a big deal for her. When I found out who you were it seemed better to stop things before it got too complicated.”
He looks down at his food while he chews slowly. “I get it now. I was pissed at first, I can’t deny it. But now that I know who you are, I get it.”
His understanding feels like a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how much it bothered me that he thought I’d left him hanging for fun. Especially not after the things we’d talked about that night.
That kiss.
“It was the best date I’ve ever been on,” I find myself admitting.
His expression softens. “Me too. Demon baby included. How is he, by the way? Still scaring the shit out of everyone you meet?”
I point toward my bedroom door. “He’s hanging in my closet until I need to ride the metro again.”
“Does he like Mexican food? Maybe we should save him some.”
This crazy conversation is making me forget about everything that’s been troubling me. My big appointment tomorrow, my sleepless night and my flaky parents. That’s what I’ve missed the most about him. He’s the only person who can just roll with my strangeness and he makes everything fun.