Shit. [sighing]
Breakfast?
Look, I know I kissed you last night, but I thought I was gonna fucking die.
This isn't about a kiss. I didn't see you eat for five days straight. And I was serious last night. My family shouldn't have dragged you into this.
I've only known you for five fucking minutes. I was a criminal long before Marty Byrde showed up with a bag full of cartel cash. So spare me your fucking pity. [gets in the car]
It's not pity. I just think you deserve better. I think you're pretty spectacular, to be honest. Now eat your burrito.
[pause, then Ruth lowers her window]
I prefer French toast sticks.
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