Page 53 of Bone’s Choice

“Being scared doesn’t mean I can’t do something.”

I held her gaze.

No joke this time. No smartass comment. Just Hazel looking at me like what she’d said was the most obvious thing in the world. Something about that lodged in my head.

Ma stood. “Who’s ready for pie?”

Hazel immediately raised her hand. “Me.”

I looked at her. “You just ate half a roast.”

“I have a separate stomach for dessert.”

“That’s not how stomachs work.”

“Prove it.”

I shook my head.

Ma carried plates toward the counter and Hazel started to stand. “I’ll help.”

“Sit,” Ma ordered.

“But—”

“I invited you.”

“You invited me too,” I pointed out.

Ma looked over her shoulder. “Exactly. Bring me those plates.”

Hazel laughed.

I stared at Ma. “You like her better than me.”

“She doesn’t argue as much.”

I gathered the plates and when I reached for Hazel’s, she moved her hand at the same time.

Our fingers brushed. Nothing. Barely fucking anything.

Still, both of us stopped. Her eyes lifted and mine met them. Her hand stayed there for a second longer than it needed to.

Heat sparked up my arm.

Hazel slowly pulled her fingers away. “Sorry.”

“You’re good.” My voice came out rougher than I’d intended.

I picked up her plate, then I got the hell away from that table before I did something stupid.

Like touch her again just to see if it felt the same.

I carried the dishes to the sink, set the plates down, and braced my hands against the counter for a second. I’d come over for pot roast.

That was it.

Eat.