ATHENA
My gaze bounces between Hector and the white bag and my heart suddenly melts to goo.
I'm not sure if it's the sincere look in his eyes, or the gentleness with which he closes the door behind him, or the fact that he's probably been awake for the past four hours, waiting to bring food for me, but I'm not particularly in the mood to argue with him right now.
Slowly, he advances towards me, probably wary that I'd snap at him.
"Is this the food from earlier?" I ask softly.
He nods. "Yes. I had the kitchen staff microwave it. I noticed you hadn't eaten much on your date with Stephen."
I roll my eyes at him; "maybe if you weren't breathing down our necks, I would've taken a bite or two."
His eyes darken dangerously. It's obvious that he doesn't enjoy talking about my failed date with Stephen. Even if it failed.
"I hate seeing you with him."
Now, why does that domineering statement send wicked thrills up my spine?
