“I think I liked you better when you were less chatty.”
She narrowed her eyes, before turning and stomping off in the direction of her apartment. Even though she was attempting to go for angry, the staggering ruined the effect, and I hid a smile.
And I like you all the time, sweetness.
Hailey's apartment was just as I imagined it, with touches of pink everywhere and smelling like I’d walked into a pastry shop selling only strawberry shortcake with whipped cream.
The dining table had several piles of fabric on it along with a little sewing machine. I highly doubted any eating happened at that table. Hailey was known for making quilts and baby blankets. One of her creations was gracing the couch in the den of Station Sixteen.
In such a contained space, it was far more potent than I’d ever inhaled. In a moment, it infected my lungs and made my head spin.
Shaking myself into focus, I took a step farther into the apartment. As much as I wanted to lose myself in the delicious scent, Hailey needed looking after.
“Go get into some pajamas,” I instructed.
Hailey shot another look in my direction, which was too damn adorable, but did as she was told, grabbing some clothing from a white dresser and stomping into the bathroom.
While she did that, I made my way to the kitchen, opening up the fridge.
Where the hell is all the food?
The fridge was completely empty, other than a few bottles of condiments and what looked to be moldy, leftover Chinese food.
Surely, she typically ate decently? Given her job, she obviously knew the importance of proper nutrition.
When I heard the bathroom door open, I couldn't help but say something. “Do you have a single fruit or vegetable in this apartment?”
Hailey scowled at me. “I think I have fruit snacks in one of the cabinets, does that count?”
That sass got under my skin, lightning strikes beneath the surface thatdidsomething.
I glared right back at her. “You and Ibothknow that doesn't count.”
“Ugh, I usually grab food while I'm working.”
She waved off my concern, taking a seat on her deep green sofa. She had changed from her work clothes into a set of pajamas, a shirt and shorts with little pink bows all over them.
I had to remind myself not to stare.
Focusing on her eyes, I gestured at the fridge. “You'reunwell. You need to eat something real.”
“I've got leftover Chinese food.”
I held up said box of takeout. “You mean this? I think you made penicillin, Hailey.”
“Oh…” She trailed off for a moment.
With a sigh, I tossed the carton in the trash and started for the door. “You stay there, watch some TV, and I'll be back in twenty minutes.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, sitting up straight, her eyes widening.
“To get you some real food.”
“I don’t need?—”
“I'm not asking,” I said simply.
Hailey opened her mouth again, but thought better of it, closing her lips and pinning me with a withering stare.