“I don’t want you to starve.”
“I’m hardly starving,” I protest.
"Believe me. One bite, and you'll be hooked. I prefer cinnamon to chocolate, but that's just me. I know better than to get between a woman and her chocolate."
My smile might be a smidgeon larger now. “I suppose a taste test can’t hurt any.”
“Definitely not,” he encourages.
I pick up the fork and take a small piece of cake onto it.
“What’s that?” Ace demands, and he promptly takes the fork out of my hand and puts a much larger bite onto the cake. “There you go.”
“Seriously? How big of a mouth do you think I have?”
He winks at me but wisely says nothing.
Blushing furiously, I shove the fork into my mouth. The peanut butter is perfect. So rich and creamy, not artificial at all, and the chocolate? So moist and decadent.
I suppress a moan but can’t help closing my eyes as I chew the bite. As I swallow, I open my eyes again. “This is amazing! You have to try it.”
I drop the fork onto the plate and push the tray over to him.
“Why didn’t you get two forks?” I ask.
“Because the cake is for you and only you.”
“Try it,” I urge. “Unless… are you allergic?”
“I’m only allergic to corn… iness.”
I facepalm. “Seriously?”
Ace shrugs, grinning like a fool. He takes the fork, but he only eats a tiny amount. It’s pathetic, really, smaller even than what I originally put on the fork, and he tries the cake. “Not bad.”
“Not bad? That’s all you can say?”
Ace shrugs and hands me back the form. “I just prefer this baby.”
He digs in, and I just watch him indulge before finally trying my cinnamon bun. My eyes just about pop out of their sockets.
“Good, huh?” Ace asks with a laugh.
I stare at him, and then I notice something. “You cut your hair!”
He runs a hand over his cut locks. “What do you think?”
I sputter and grab my coffee, chugging it down because what did I think? I think he looks so fucking hot it should be a sin to look that good. He looks like a star. A football star. A movie star. Hell, he could be a model.
The coffee is too hot to actually taste good, and I’ve burned my tongue. I give a weak chuckle. “Shorter hair suits you.”
"I think so too." He removes a necklace from beneath his shirt. I've always seen the black cord but never the pendant that he holds in his hand, moving it back and forth on the chain before tucking the necklace beneath his shirt again. "So…"
"Let's eat," I say in a rush, knowing that he wants to talk, which is something I most definitely do not want to do.
We enjoy our food, but I can’t help glancing out the window every time a car pulls into the lot, and I wince every time a door slams shut. Neither my father nor Rob and the waitress show up.
After I polish off the last bite—yes, I ate every bite of the cinnamon roll but then make Ace help with the chocolate cake—Ace leans forward. "Now, can you tell me what has you so upset?"
I grimace and drop my gaze. I really don’t want to say it out loud. Then, it’ll finally sink in. It’ll finally be real.
But Ace lives with Rob, so he's going to learn the truth tonight once he gets back to his place.
Or maybe not if Rob goes to the waitress’s house… and spends the night there…
My chest hurts badly, and I link back tears. Once I’m composed, I force myself to look at Ace.
“It’s Rob,” I finally say. “Him and me, we’re done.”