Christian would have stammered at that, if he'd been able to pull his jaw up off the floor. As it was, however, he barely got out a faint, "That's not what I meant," before she was beaming and bounding off again. Lemons. Right. Lemons.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, he started working on cutting the fruit again. This was, by far, the strangest night he'd had since arriving at the City. As she sat there, swinging her legs, he tried to ignore her foot brushing up against the side of his leg. It was... distracting. He cleared his throat and carefully set the lemon slices aside, then went to wash off the knife.
"Where do you live?" he asked. "I would like to see you home, if that's all right with you."