What in the world could I ask her opinion on?
“Rowan, what is it?”
“I wasn’t sure if our oldest ride is worth keeping.”
Her entire face brightens. “Oh no! Don’t get rid of it. I love the—” Her grumbling stomach cuts her off, morphing the shade of her face from brown to bright red.
I scowl. “You skipped dinner.”
“Umm…how did you know that?” The color of her cheeks somehow intensifies.
Yeah, Rowan. How did you know? Fuck. I keep messing up tonight. Who knew keeping up two personalities would be this difficult?
“You’re still here working.”
“Right. I’m about to wrap up soon so I’ll just—” Her stomach grumbles even louder, and my blood turns into lava, pumping furiously at the pace of my heart.
I pull out my phone. “How do you feel about Chinese food?”
Her mouth gapes apart. “Umm…it’s good?”
I dial a local place I have saved after too many late nights working. I’m not sure what Zahra likes, so I order one of everything. It’s probably overkill, but I’d rather have her eat something she likes.
I hang up to find Zahra still gawking at me. “What?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t expect you to buy me dinner.”
“I’m hungry. You can have the leftovers,” I respond as if that solves everything.
“But I’m pretty sure you ordered the entire restaurant.”
I remain standing in silence.
Her brows pull together before she wipes away whatever look is on her face. “All right. So why are you thinking of getting rid of our oldest ride?” She drops onto the floor where she has an entire array of Post-its, pieces of paper, markers, and more.
Right. The opinion I wanted.
I follow suit and lean against the back partition of the cubicle.
Zahra laughs to herself as I remove my suit jacket and throw it beside my legs.
“What’s so funny?”
She waves at my body like it solves my question. “You’re sitting on the floor.”
I look down at myself. “And?”
“It’s weird.” She crosses her legs.
I ignore her. “It’s an old ride. I’m not sure if it’s worth keeping.”
She sucks in a breath. “You have to be joking! Is it worth keeping?!”
I nod, knowing this kind of question could stir up an hour-long conversation. And it does just that. While we wait for the delivery, Zahra spends the time explaining the history behind my grandfather’s first ride, as if I wasn’t aware. She goes into great detail, touching upon all the reasons we shouldn’t dare change a single thing. I find myself smiling more than usual because her enthusiasm and passion is contagious.
I’m somewhat disappointed when the food arrives because it cuts her off.
“Did you really need to order the whole menu?”
I shrug. “Wasn’t sure what you liked.”
She looks at me with a pinched expression. “And why didn’t you ask me?” She grabs two carton boxes from the bag and presses them against her chest with a sigh.
I stay silent and pluck a box of fried rice from the bag. Zahra passes me a plastic-wrapped fork and we both dive in.
She lets out the tiniest moan as she takes a bite of her food. I feel the sound straight to my cock, and blood starts rushing to a place it doesn’t belong.