His eyes flick to me, then he reaches into my plate, grabs a fry, and brings it to my mouth. “Eat.” My lips part automatically on his command, but when I take a bite and realize the man is feeding me, a scowl forms on my face. “I can feed myself,” I mutter around the fry. “I know.” Not breaking eye contact with me, he picks up another fry. “I want to feed you.”
