Sasha laughed again. “I’m serious. Is life that good to you?”
Now there was a thought—life being good to the Griers. “Strong metabolism.” Nathan shrugged. “Jim’s the same way. You just wouldn’t know it unless he has a bunch of sugar in front of him. Me? Give me real food any day. I’d kill for ribs, potatoes, and corn bread.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Sasha said. “And I’m sure I’ll be very thankful they give you those little moist cloth things with the meal.”
Nathan could only join in on the laughter halfway since his mouth was full of tortilla, but laughter came easily anyway. Somehow, Sasha always managed to put him at ease.
“Nathan…”
Looking up from his mutilated burrito, Nathan found himself only inches from Sasha and nearly choked. He had no idea how the incubus had gotten so close without him noticing, but despite the lump in Nathan’s throat, Sasha wasn’t even looking at him. He was trying to lean past him.
“Look,” Sasha said, pointing up at the apartment building.