"That depends," Charlie replied, wrapping both arms around his one that claimed her hand.
Claimed. There was something so... satisfying in that word. As if, just by the simple display of her hand in his, was letting the world know that Charlie Doyle could not be courted by anyone else because Charlie Doyle belonged to him. She liked this idea probably a lot more than was really safe, but she was touching Royce and he was touching her and it was doing funny things to the way her mind was working, so she really didn't understand why it was such a bad thing. Because it certainly was anything but a bad thing.
"Exactly what other kind of promise were you hoping for?" she continued, smirking up at him. "I can't bribe you with money, as I'm sure you are well aware of, and you can't demand manual labor out of me because I'm about as useful as a square wheel. Besides singing to 90s music and opening a can of cat food, cooking is about the only thing I can do."
"Unless, of course, you're implying that you'd like to be invited without any incentive at all. But I can't imagine why- you've seen my apartment. Without food, it's pretty boring, if you don't count watching my cats fall off the counter." It was pretty amusing, and even though she loved them, she always laughed.
They were nearing her apartment complex now, and she removed one hand- the hand not clasped in Royce's- to dig in her back pocket for her keys. "But back to the original topic- what about right now? I'm only making macaroni for myself; I didn't offer to make you any. Granted, I'm washing your shirt, but there's no food involved whatsoever. Doesn't that count?"