"You're eating takeout every day?"

Kevan's reproachful tone was evident, intensifying the inexplicable guilt Larissa felt.

"I only ordered takeout because I injured my shoulder and can't cook," she explained.

"You injured your shoulder?" Kevan narrowed his eyes, his gaze sweeping between her shoulders, as if he was trying to see through her coat to her injuries beneath.

"My right side. I have a mild fracture." Larissa tapped the spot of her injury lightly. "It's not that big of a deal. A few