Jacob cleared his throat, rudely interrupting her Very Serious Thought Process. “Am I getting this breakfast, or are you going to stand there looking grim all day?”

“Grim?” Eve yelped. “I never look grim. My resting expression is general delight.”

“Your resting expression is princess,” he muttered.

Princess. Her hands curled into fists.

“What?” Jacob barked at her silence. “Are you actually nervous about this? Because if you’ve been merrily feeding my guests substandard food all morning without saying a bloody word—”

For some reason, Jacob questioning the deliciousness of her breakfast was starting to piss Eve off. “Hard to speak to a man who’s asleep,” she pointed out sharply.

He flushed, strawberry ice cream again. Just a hint. But he also stood tall and narrowed those flinty eyes behind his glasses. “I have a concussion.” The Because you hit me with your car part did not need to be said.

“Yes, you have a concussion,” she replied, “but you were a prick to me even before that event, so I don’t see how it’s relevant.”

Jacob’s jaw dropped. Pettily, she enjoyed the sight.

“Now, shut up about it,” she finished, slapping his breakfast onto a plate. Funny, how she’d made all this food without really noticing. Arguing with him had worked wonders for her nerves. “Here’s the plan. Since your wrist is broken and your arse is also broken—”

“I’ll give you this,” he muttered, “at least you’re thorough when you run a man over.”

Eve valiantly ignored him. Or was it Valium-ly? “—you can’t sit at a table and you can’t hold your own plate.”

“I can hold my own plate, genius,” he said, waving his left hand.

“And can you also feed yourself, genius?”

He glared. “It’s very irritating when you say logical, intelligent things. Stop it. Now.”

Ridiculous, to take such sideways words as a compliment. It was just—well. Eve’s sisters were smart. They passed exams and built careers and did incredible things with computers or peer-reviewed research. Eve failed exams, attended drama school, failed that, too, and mixed up all her words because focusing on conversations was beyond her. Family never called her stupid, and her friends only ever implied it—but intelligent wasn’t a word she often heard directed at herself.

Jacob cocked his head, watching her steadily. “You keep zoning out of this conversation. Have you suffered a blow to the head too, or do you find me that boring?”

“You are the exact opposite of boring,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Jacob blinked, and she had the pleasure of seeing him look genuinely at a loss for the first time since they’d met. “Oh. Erm . . .” He cleared his throat. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Right. Well. That’s true.”

Eve shoved the plate of breakfast at him, pleased when he took it reflexively with his good hand. “This’ll probably be cold after all the babbling we’ve done.”

“Excuse me,” he said severely, “I don’t babble.”