Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart

Chapter 4

I was only surprised to see Tony waiting in the lobby when I went down for breakfast, stretched out in the same armchair I'd occupied the night before.

"You're making a habit of this," I remarked with a greeting, bringing a smirk to Tony's face.

"Haven't you heard? Habits and vices are my specialty," he retorted, eyes blatantly roaming over my body as he stood. "I definitely love the shorts."

I grinned, shoulder bumping with Tony's as we fell into step beside each other.

"So where are we going today?" I queried, happy to let Tony decide.

The man knew the city better than I did.

"Breakfast first," Tony declared, ignoring the waiting car to walk with me further down the street. "Then we hit the road. You a fan of motorbikes?"

"God, yes," I replied emphatically, thinking lovingly of my bike — inherited from Sirius — in the garage back home.

Tony's catlike grin widened, arm slinging low around my waist, and said, "Evan, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

I snorted quietly; few friendships I knew involved sex. Still, I wasn't complaining.

Tony was happy to take up most of the conversation over breakfast as he had at dinner, alternating between flirting with me, flirting with our waitress, and gushing about his inventions. I was equally happy to let him; I only understood about 20% of the tech talk, but it was interesting regardless, and a definite reminder that I should continue my muggle re-education when I got home. As for flirting with the waitress, it was hard to take him seriously when his foot was steadily stroking my ankle under the table. I knew the type; Bill was the same, flirting out of habit than any real attraction.

"So tell me about yourself," Tony prompted, bringing me back to the conversation.

I shrugged, wondering what I could tell Tony without breaking the statute of secrecy.

"Well I'm the youngest of seven boys back home," I replied, figuring that while I wasn't blood-related to the Weasleys, I might as well be. "One younger sister."

Tony let out a low whistle, eyebrows rising as he said, "God help anyone who tries to date her."

I laughed, smirking wryly.

"Too right," I muttered. "She's going out with a friend of mine at the moment, though, so he knows not to mess her around. Besides, she can take care of herself." Tony smiled a little at that, nodding to prompt me to continue. "I went to a boarding school in Scotland — right up in the highlands, arse end of nowhere — and, uh... I'm looking at a career in medicine?"

I wasn't sure what else to say, but Tony seemed to appreciate the information all the same.

"Medicine, huh? How sweet; I make things that kill people, you want to learn to save them." Tony's voice was sarcastic, and I shot him a look.

"Don't say it like that," I snapped, surprising the older man, "You make things that kill people to save people. If the people you sell to don't follow the same creed, that's their problem, not yours."

Tony blinked, staring at me in mild incredulity, and I blushed, wondering if I'd said too much.

"Well, you are a special one, aren't you?" the billionaire murmured, causing the flush on my cheeks to darken. "Few your age that would have that viewpoint."

I shrugged, lowering my gaze as I said, "Yeah, well... terrorist attacks."

Tony's expression became knowing.