“Can I get you a drink? I don’t have any beer.”
“What do you have?” he asked, setting the box of food on the coffee table. Kent noted the used appearance of the table but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve got coffee, tea, milk, juice, and water,” she said.
He chuckled. “I’ll take a coffee.”
She turned away from him. “Do you need plates?” she asked.
“No. I’m happy to eat out of the cartons if you are?”
Lana left him to go fix drinks. The sound of the kettle filled the silence. He removed his jacket and then started unloading each carton of Chinese food. The oriental scents were intoxicating, and his mouth watered. He’d skipped dinner so he’d get a chance to eat with her.
She came back minutes later carrying two large mugs of coffee.
He noticed she grabbed a coaster and wiped the small spillage of coffee from the table with a tissue. She kept a box of tissues on the table.
“You’re not a fan of mess, are you?” he asked.
“Is it that obvious?” She sat next to him. A blush stained her cheeks. Kent chuckled.
“I’m a guy. I’m supposed to notice these things.”
She laughed. “I guess you are. What did you get?” She rubbed her hands down her thighs. He wondered if that was natural or if being with him made her nervous.
“I got noodles, of course. Egg fried rice, curry, and chow mein. Also, spring rolls, prawn balls, and pretty much everything else on the menu,” he said.
“Okay, I guess I’ll try something from every box.” The black shirt she wore showed a great deal of her chest. Her breasts were pressed together and looked so tempting. When she leaned forward he got a good look at her chest. Licking his lips, he grabbed the first carton and then handed her some chopsticks.
Get your shit together. You’re not some horny teenager.
“Aren’t you going to try something first?” she asked.
Pushing his chop sticks into the carton, he pulled out a prawn ball. He didn’t taste a single bite as he ate it. Kent kept his eye on Lana as she pressed the ball into her mouth. Her full lips closed around the chopsticks. He was losing his mind. There was nothing sensual about eating Chinese food.
“Thank you for getting me this,” she said. “It has been ages since I ate food as good as this.”
“It’s a pleasure. So, Lana, tell me about yourself,” he said, wanting to know more about her.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Sure there is.” He picked up another carton for her to try. Together they munched their way through the food. Kent pulled a pillow across his lap to hide his growing erection.
“I’ve got nothing to say. I work two jobs, and this is my place. I like visiting the library in my spare time, and I’ve got an addiction to baking,” she said.
There had to be far more to her than that. Scooping up some noodles, he took a quick look around the room. There were no personal photos. Most people had pictures of friends or graduation days. Inside Lana’s apartment there was nothing.
Turning back to her, he grew more intrigued by the woman he knew next to nothing about.
“Tell me more about you,” she said.
Chapter Five
The personal questions unnerved her. She didn’t like talking about her past as that’s where she wanted her past to stay and never come out. Munching on the noodles, Lana waited for him to start talking.
“Why don’t you have any photos?” he asked, ignoring her question.
She finished eating and placed the carton back on the table. Why did this have to be so hard? This was why she kept to herself. The hours she worked stopped her from attaching herself to people. The diner was perfect as none of the staff had time to talk. Some of the girls tried to get her to go out, but she refused because of her second job. Working in Kent’s building took her late into the night when everyone was home. If anything, she talked to the security guard on the way out of the building, no interactions at all that left her feeling out of place.
“I don’t have any photos to put up,” she said. “I don’t like these questions, and I’d prefer to know about you.”
Her mother never owned a camera, and there were never any photos of the happy times when she lived with her mother. She didn’t own a single photo of her time growing up. Talking about growing up made people pity her. Lana had learned that lesson with past boyfriends, especially when they threw the guilt back in your face. Frank, her last boyfriend, was a prime example of him throwing her past in her face. His excuse for staying with her for so long was because he felt pity for her. He didn’t want to leave her after he found out about her past. How fucked up was that? Not only that, he liked to slap her a little bit as well. The more Lana thought about her past with Frank, the happier she was to have gotten away from him.