Chenghai kept my feet in his lap while he opened the cooler.
Apparently, the food inside wasn't only for later. He pulled out containers of fried chicken, pasta salad, sliced peaches, and several thick sandwiches wrapped in paper. There were also two bags of chips, chocolate bars, and enough bottled drinks to keep us alive on the porch for several days.
I looked over everything. "How long were you planning to keep me here?"
"Until you wanted to leave," he replied seriously, not looking at me as he continued to pull out our picnic.
I wonder if he knew that that could have meant an hour or three weeks.
Instead of warning him, I took the fried chicken.
Chenghai opened the container for me and placed it on my stomach before returning both hands to my feet. His thumbs pressed slowly into the arches while I ate, working out soreness I hadn't noticed until he touched it.
