All the Sauce (IceCats 4)

She shrugs. “Just trying to be polite.”

“Well, thanks. Sorry I took so long. Evan called.”

She doesn’t touch her fork. “How’s he doing?”

“Apparently he’s gained five pounds ’cause my mom is allowing him to eat whatever he wants.”

“Lucky.”

“That’s what I said,” I joke as I dig in. “So, ready to dive into our discussion?” I can tell something is off, and before she can answer me, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t look at me. “Nothing. Lost my appetite.”

I make a face. “I would too if that’s all I had. Here,” I say, taking some of my pasta and putting it on her plate.

She looks at it and then the plate. “I don’t need pasta.”

“Oh, you need extra sauce?” I ask, handing her the little bowl of extra I ordered.

“Owen—”

“What?” Finally, her eyes meet mine. I can see pain, and I don’t know why it’s there. But I want to make it go away. I reach out, cupping her bicep in my hand. Her skin is so soft, warm. I felt a jolt of desire rush through my body, but concern takes over. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she insists once more, but I know it’s a lie.

“Eat, then,” I say, tapping her plate. When she doesn’t move to pick up her fork, I say, “Please.”

And I mean it. I don’t know what happened, but I suspect it has something to do with those girls. I stare at her until she reaches for her fork and begins to pick at her food. It’s a start, I guess. I take a few bites before clearing my throat and continuing our conversation from before. “So, hear me out. We’re told over and over again to be a certain size—”

“I’m sorry,” she says, meeting my gaze. “Can I take a rain check on this discussion?”

I bring in my brows, and whatever has changed her demeanor is starting to piss me off. “Okay.”

She picks up a piece of broccoli and puts it in her mouth. I look at the TV as I eat a few bites, watching her out of the side of my eye. She doesn’t really eat, but she does pick at the pasta. Even dips her veggies and chicken in the sauce. That pleases me more than it should. I clear my throat. “Do you still collect Funko Pops?”

Her lips curve automatically. “Yeah. Well, no, not here. But my dad and I still have a killer collection at the house.”

“That’s cool. I remember that every Christmas I would go get you a Pop.”

She looks confused. “Huh?”

“Yeah, Mom made me pick because I knew the most about them.”

“Oh. Well, that’s surprising.”

“Is it? Why?”

“I don’t know. I just never saw you shopping for me.”

“It was fun,” I admit, holding her gaze. “Why don’t you collect here?”

“It’s my dad’s and my thing. Here, I collect plants.”

“Plants?”

Her eyes light up, and it almost feels like it did before I went to the bathroom. “Yeah, they’re awesome and really great for mental health. The oxygen from them is so clean for you.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, my room is a glassed-in porch, so I filled it with all kinds of gorgeous plants.”

“You sleep on a glassed-in porch? I thought you were in the dorms?”

“No, I moved out of the dorms. I’m actually thinking of moving again.”

“Why?” I ask, taking a bite of my sirloin. “Need more room for plants?”

She grins. “I could use the room, but I’m realizing I may have put all my eggs in one basket.”

As I chew, I’m utterly confused. “Explain?”

“My boss is my roommate.”

“Ah,” I say, making a face.

“Yeah, and I hate her boyfriend.”

“Why?”

“He’s such a jackass. Really rude and can’t ever just leave me alone.”

I give her a dry look. “Want me to beat him up?”

She snorts. “Please.”

“No, really. I’ll call my boy Dart, and we’ll put him in his place.”

“How are you going to just volunteer your friend to fight with you?”

“Because that’s what we do,” I insist, holding her gaze. “We were actually in this pub when my other buddy, Kirby, decided he was about to whoop this dude’s ass for putting his hands on his now-future wifey. And we all stood up, ready to go. Even Evan was ready.”

She blinks. “Wow. Hockey players are loyal.”

“We are,” I agree. “But wouldn’t you do that for your person?”

She shrugs. “I don’t have a person.”

“Yes, you do. Ally Titov?” I say, speaking of her bestie from home. “Or wait, Brooks, now that she and Asher got married.”

Her eyes widen. “They got married?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Do y’all not talk?”

“I don’t talk to anyone, really. I just work and go to school.”

“Well, that’s boring.”

She agrees with a nod. “Sure, but I chose to come here.”

I lean on my hand, pointing my fork at her. “Why is that?”

She chews for a second and then shrugs. “I needed a change of scenery.”

I can understand that. “So, you like it here?”