Page 87 of The Toy Maker

I tapped my nails against the counter, glaring at her with thinly veiled irritation.

Jason barely seemed to be listening. He nodded along until she finally ran out of words and handed him the receipt.

He took it without a second glance, then turned to me. “Let’s go.”

The relief I felt was ridiculous.

We weaved through the crowded mall, dodging couples, window shoppers, and groups of teenagers taking up way too much space.

“Where to now?” I asked, glancing up at him.

Jason smirked. “I was thinking food.” He slid his hands into his pockets, eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m pretty sure I owe you breakfast. Pizza?” he asked.

“For breakfast?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

I laughed. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Kitty would flip out of she knew I was eating hot, greasy carbs, but there were plenty of things she didn’t need to know these days.

We stopped at the pizza vendor, and Jason glanced over the menu.

“Pepperoni?” I suggested, already imagining the perfect, greasy slice.

“Hawaiian.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Jason looked at me like I was the weird one. “Pineapple. Ham. The superior combination.”

I took a step back, placing a hand over my heart. “I knew there was something off about you.”

He smirked. “You’re just uncultured.”

“I respect pizza, thank you very much.” I scrunched my nose. “Fruit does not belong on it.”

Jason shrugged like my opinion was meaningless. “What do you think tomatoes are?”

I watched in mild horror as he ordered, completely unbothered by his terrible life choices.

When it was my turn, I made sure to clearly enunciate the word pepperoni, just in case the pizza gods were watching.

We grabbed our trays and found an empty table near the corner of the food court. I plopped into my seat, staring at his slice like it personally offended me.

Jason took a slow, deliberate bite, locking eyes with me as if daring me to say something.

I crossed my arms. “You’re a monster.”

He chewed thoughtfully. “And yet, you’re still sitting with me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I haven’t ruled out the possibility of finding a better table.”

Jason smirked, waving the pizza slice at me. “You won’t.”

He took another bite while I pretended not to stare at his lips. Because that was my real problem, not the pizza, not the mall, but the fact that I was sitting across from him, feeling way too much.

And I had no idea if he felt anything at all.

“Do you think we’ll be back before one?”