Miles pulls the checkered paper fry trays out and sets them atop the flattened bag. I catch him watching me as I take my first bite. “What,” I say, mouth full. One shoulder lifts in tandem with the corner of his mouth. “Just waiting to see if you moan again.” My face heats as I bite into a jalapeño. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “The sound you made when you tried the milkshake,” he says. “I want to know if the fries live up to that.” “Honestly,” I say, “my mouth is on fire right now.” He grabs my milkshake and lifts it toward me. I lean over the straw and take a slurp. “Better?” he
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