At some point during the last two hours, his first name had slipped from her lips. After that, despite how pissed off she’d been with herself, it stuck. What had she gotten for it? A small twitch of his lips that could’ve been the beginnings of a smile—and his eyes. Frozen on her. Non-stop. As in: All. The. Time. He stared while they opened the cans. As he stirred. While he helped her fill the soup bowls and place them on the trays….while everyone that came up to the counter stared at him and his expensive suit. “Doing what?” Chase somehow filled yet another bowl without spilling a single drop . No, those unrealistic eyes were still focused on her. His pupils were dilated. The deep darkness of those large pupils shredded right through her. Her heart felt bruised, exhausted, and yet, it managed to speed up. It thumped inside her, loud enough to almost drown out the noise of her ladle hitting the counter.
