“If food doesn’t taste good, why do you keep inviting me out to eat?” I asked. Matthew’s eyes flicked over my cheeks, my eyes, and lingered on my mouth. “It’s easier to be around you when you’re eating. The smell of cooked food nauseates me.” I blinked at him, still confused. “As long as I’m nauseated, I’m not hungry,” Matthew said, his voice exasperated. “Oh!” The pieces clicked together. I already knew he liked the way I smelled. Apparently that made him hungry. Oh. I flushed.
