No denying it—Jason is a head-turner, and tonight he'd really cleaned up well.
What was he playing at? This wasn't a date.
Not that I'm usually one to swoon, but under different circumstances, his charm might have stirred even my cold, undead heart.
Right now, though, all I cared about was food. I was starving.
Sensing my impatience, he asked, "You that hungry?"
I gave him a sideways glance. "Starving... almost enough to drain you dry."
He turned away, his ears reddening—a sight that made him look even more appetizing.
Once the food was served, I realized something was off. Jason was sitting too far away across the table.
Why was my distraction sitting at arm's length? If the mountain won't come to Muhammad... I grabbed my utensils and moved right beside him.
Getting closer, I could almost taste the sweet scent wafting from his neck. Inhaling deeply, I began to eat, trying to convince myself of the illusion.
Grandpa Clive was onto something—it really did make a difference!
I ate voraciously, feeling better with every bite after days of barely managing to eat anything satisfying.
So engrossed was I in the meal that I didn't notice how close I'd gotten to Jason, nearly leaning against him.