Hope
Everyone arrived few minutes later and the table was set with different kind of dishes and snacks.
Everything before me looks amazing—and anything chocolate is a non-negotiable favorite for me—but on principle, I try to refuse. Again when Finn asks me if I care for some.
Finn doesn't bother asking again. He just fills another plate to the brim and slides it in front of me like a silent challenge.
"Eat up," Kaleb says. I can't tell if he's trying to assert dominance or make some passive-aggressive comment about my body. Maybe both. It's hard to say with men like him—brooding, alpha, and clearly used to a diet of models and control. Okay, that might be a reach.
Still, I eat. Slowly. A bit of everything.
Fine! maybe not an actual bit, though. It's so fucking frustrating why I don't add more weight given the amount of food I eat.
The chocolate torte, though? It's practically holy. A spiritual awakening wrapped with my favorite toppings.
