Isabella
“Well,” Dylan said lightly, still steadying me against him, “I figured dramatically throwing yourself at me was a little aggressive for a second reunion, but I’m willing to work with it.”
I stared at him for half a second before an exhausted laugh escaped me despite myself.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” I muttered while carefully regaining my balance.
“What question?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh.” He straightened slightly before reaching behind his back with his free hand. “Right. That.”
Then he pulled out a small paper bag and I blinked.
“Are those….” I didn't get to finish before he cut me off with a proud grin sitting pretty on his face.
“Fries,” he confirmed proudly.
“Dylan.” I stared at him in disbelief. “You brought fries to a rehabilitation session?”
