Page 31 of Thorn Evermore
“Smells good,” Thorn says, inhaling the steam wafting off the plates. “Can I serve you?”
“Uh, sure.”
Thorn smiles, lifting a plate and loading it up from the numerous platters of food. After setting mine in front of me, he makes his own plate with a lot less food. I quirk an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong?” Thorn asks.
“Well, nothing, but…” I scrunch my nose. “Why did you give me so much more food? Is this how much you think I eat?”
“What? No. I just wanted you to be happy and indulge. Did I offend you? I’m not used to being on an actual date.”
“You just gave me a lot of food and you have a little.”
“Ah.” He nods. “I should explain. My diet is mostly liquid. I have an unusual digestive system, and it can’t handle a lot of solid food. I do adore eating though, so sometimes I push it.”
“Oh.”
“If I could, I’d gorge myself on this meal. It smells delicious. I just wanted you to enjoy it. No harm meant.”
“Sorry, Thorn. I guess it’s a sore point for me.”
“Sweetheart, I want you to be yourself. No restraints, no judgments.” He smiles, nearly knocking me off my chair with its brilliance. “I’ll tell you something about me.”
“Okay.”
“As soon as you take a bite.”
Laughing, I pick up my fork and spear a piece of salt-and-pepper shrimp. The flavors explode on my tongue. “Mmm.”
Thorn looks pleased. “My oldest brother calls me the hedonist. I do everything I can to excess. I drink too much, party too hard, live life on the absolute edge. I want tofeelevery minute.”
“So you would bungee jump?”
He snorts a laugh. “I find it boring. I’ll never make you do things you don’t want to do, but if you’re looking for adventure, you’ve found it.”
I eat a bite of fried rice. It’s light and not greasy at all. Yum.
“You have questions. I can tell.”
I nod, studying his face. “When you say party, do you mean drugs?”
“Yes.”
His answer turns my stomach. I knew there had to be something imperfect about him.
“It makes you uncomfortable?” he asks. “Because of your parents.”
I nod. “I barely drink. I try not to judge other people, but I’m not sure how I’d feel about drugs. I mean, weed is okay. Sandra smokes it all the time.”
“Sandra?”
“Coworker and friend. Um, what kind of drugs?”
Thorn doesn’t answer right away, instead focusing on a plate of stir-fried chicken. “Remember when I told you I’m not like other men?”
“Yes.”
He lifts his gaze, and I must be seeing things, because his eyes seem much lighter in color, almost like they have a light behind them.