“Why is that so funny? You’re wearing a man’s shirt. It was a logical assumption.”
“You’re right, it was,” I say, mollifying him. I take my seat next to him, and get his arm over my shoulders, a heavy warmth at the top of my back. The hint of possessiveness does things to me, things that I can’t put into words.
“You wouldn’t like it if I had Aly’s shit lying around at my place.”
I turn to look at him. Golden skin, blue eyes. Strong cheeks and jaw - manly, hard. Blonde-brown stubble on his cheeks and chin, tired eyes, sexy mouth. Fuller bottom lip than the top one.
I’m a firework about to explode into my show of lights in the night sky, just by looking at his mouth, thinking about the kiss we almost-almost had.
Tearing my eyes from his lips, I say, “Hunt, if you’re wearing her shit, then we’ve got problems.”
His eyes slide shut and he lets out a laugh, curling me into his side and kissing the top of my head. I let my bad arm snake around his waist, trying not to notice the chiseled perfection that are his abs, the six pack I want to trace with my tongue.
“Ten points to Gryffindor.” He grins down at me, then turns to watch the screen. I want to soak up all his attention, feed off the looks he gives me, feed off the way I make him laugh and smile.
“As soon as Captain Jack comes on screen, it’s quiet time. No interrupting. I get really into it, so I might fidget or make noises, or whatever. No judging allowed.”
I get another kiss on top of my head, and snuggle closer, finally realizing I could have this all the time if I could just let go.
Hunter finally understands my Pirates movie references. He laughs at Captain Jack, tenses when the Pirates become walking skeletons, and has the good grace not to comment on how hot Keira Knightley is like Josh, Tommy, Alex and Eli would’ve done. Point Hunter.
I check my phone when I start making us a late lunch/early supper.
Katie: So? What happened last night?
I end up calling her – texting with one hand is bad news.
“What’s up home-slice?” Katie answers. I want to fight my grin, ‘cause I wanna be mad at her for ditching me last night, but I just can’t. I mean, who keeps a straight face to home-slice?
“I broke my hand when Tommy’s face hit my fist. I have a cast and everything.” I look down at said cast, and wonder how I’m going to make grilled-cheeses with my left hand only. “Gimme a sec.” I hold my phone to my chest and recruit Hunter to help with the chopping of the salad. I stick my tongue out as I spread butter on the slices of bread I’m going to fry up.
“Did I just hear right? He’s there? What did he do, sleep over?” Knowing Katie’s voice and the problem she has with volume control, I quickly move to my bedroom, shutting the door.
“No. He didn’t. I’m pissed at you right now. You don’t deserve that story.”
“Are you kidding me? Sweetie, you’ve been waiting for this for twenty-five years – I’ve been waiting for ten, and you can’t even tell me if you had your way with Mr. SexyPants? You’re meaner than Voldemort.”
I snort, and cuss myself out. Making me laugh is halfway to making me forgive her. Katie knows this. Bloody hell.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, alright? Lunch – same time, same place.”
“I need details, Delos! Details!”
“I swear you’re worse than the guys, you giant horn-dog.”
“You know you love it. Speaking of those assholes, I think Tommy wanted to pass by your place and grovel today. I think you should enjoy the show and prolong it as long as possible.”
“He’s not coming here! He wouldn’t just show up like that. I don’t care, I don’t want to see him. I’m with Hunter, anyway. Can you spell awkward? T-o-m-m-y. No, thanks.” The smell of grilled cheese hits my room, making my stomach growl. “’Kay, I gotta go. We’re eating now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Can’t you just give me a little nugget of information – please?” Katie whines, making me cringe. “Delos, don’t you dare hang up on m-” Click.
“Sorry, Hunt, I had to take that.”
His eyes are warm when he sees me, flipping over our grilled cheeses.
“Is this enough food for you? Do you have more protein next door? I ran out of everything – I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow.” I say in a way of apology.
“I’ll be good. I’ve been to the gym already, and you only have brown bread so the sugar intake goes down some.” Hunter tosses me a smile, using the spatula to squash the sandwiches down.
I get the plates out of the cupboard and pull down my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle glasses. They’re green, and have each turtle’s face painted on them, an angry gin, eyes hidden by their respective colored bandanas.