Page 84 of Beautiful Venom
Kane lifts a brow. “You were saying?”
I rub my nape, then slowly sit.
The table is absurdly full, and the aroma nearly makes me drool.
Plates are arranged with precision—eggs scrambled to a soft yellow, slices of toast perfectly golden, and a side of fresh fruit that seems to have been cut by a machine. A coffee pot, two high-quality porcelain cups, orange juice, and a milk jug.
There’s jelly and butter, crisp and glistening bacon, and pancakes stacked high, steam still rising off them like some kind of picture-perfect domestic fantasy.
The fact that someone like Kane can make something as normal as breakfast while being fully capable of breaking people’s arms with his bare hands is both astonishing and disturbing.
“Go on, don’t just watch in amazement. Eat.” He speaks as he cuts into his toast and eggs.
I don’t need to be told twice. I dig into the eggs and shamelessly finish most of my plate in no time. This is so good. Honestly. And I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I’ve never had this type of full breakfast before. I’ve been lucky to have coffee and some boiled eggs or something from a convenience store on my way to work or school.
A knife digs into the top of my toast. “Slow down or you’ll suffer from indigestion at best or choke at worst.”
I swallow the contents of my mouth. “Sorry.”
“About what?”
“My table manners. I’m a bit hungry.”
I think a slight smile twitches his lips, but it disappears as he continues eating. “Chew properly and take your time.”
It takes effort not to devour everything in sight and make myself look like a cavewoman.
Kane watching me like some strict parent isn’t helping.
He takes a sip of his juice, his eyes rolling over me like a sensual caress.
Like last night.
Don’t think about it. Justdon’t.
“Is it a habit?” he asks.
“What?”
“Eating fast.”
“I guess. I never really have time for food between school and my part-time job.”
“And snooping around. And putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. And being so fucking oblivious about your own safety.”
I let the jelly spoon hang midway to my mouth and glare at him.
“Did I miss something?” he says with an unnerving smile. “Oh, and chatting with ex-boyfriends at my fucking game.”
“I didn’t invite Marcus. He came on his own, and he’s not my ex.”
“Didn’t stop you from hanging on to his every word like all the puck bunnies vying for his attention. Miss him already?”
“That isnottrue. Marcus is an asshole, and I wouldn’t look twice in his direction in this lifetime. He was just being antagonistic as usual and probably taking notes about your team play before the upcoming game.” I release a breath. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. We’re nothing to each other.”
“You came on my cock and fingers three times; I think we’re something.”
My mouth hangs open and my stomach contracts because of something other than hunger.
