“What’s this?” Chase asks when I hand him one of the coffee cups.
“Peace offering. Careful, it’s hot. I wasn’t sure what you wanted in it, so I left it…”
My voice trails off as he takes both cups and tips them over the sink. I snatch my cup back but it’s too late.
“There are three sips in here! Just because you don’t like coffee doesn’t mean you have to be a…a…total degenerate!”
“For the record, I like it as much as the next guy but too much tanks your performance.”
He grins like he’s enjoying this.
“Are you going to take three quarters of my donut too?” I pull it from the bag and wave it in front of him. I try to jerk it away when Chase grabs for it, but he’s faster.
“Nope.” He drops the pastry in the trash before I can blink.
My mouth falls open in disbelief. For a second I stand there, stunned by his audacity. “What is this, communist Russia?”
Chase hands me a banana from the counter.
I stand over the garbage. The donut is drenched in whatever green substance occupied the bag first, rendering my beloved breakfast unsalvageable.
“I thought you wanted this, Hastings.” His eyes gleam wickedly.
“Chase Owens,” I whisper, my voice nearly shaking, “you are the devil.”
“Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty. Now less lip, more running, princess.” He shoves me toward the door.