BRIN
“You sure you don’t want us to come hang out with you?” Maggie asks over the phone as I flip aimlessly through the channels.
Why isn’t there ever anything on when I try to watch TV?
“I’m beyond positive. You two are in a new relationship, so you’ll constantly be saying disgustingly sweet things and making out. It’ll make me sick with envy. Go. Have fun. I’m a big girl.”
She sighs as though she doesn’t want to relent, but she does. “Fine. But don’t sit at home in your pajamas. Go out and have fun. See if Rye is busy.”
That’s hilarious. I doubt very seriously Rye Clanton has nothing to do. I’m positive he doesn’t want to hang out with me. The blonde on his arm yesterday is probably over her moment of anger, and now she’ll be in his bed.
I hate men.
I decide not to say anything and just hang up. Tria sends me a text asking if I want her to come over. Apparently she heard Wren cancelled as well. Sheesh. It’s not like he broke my damn heart.
I send her a quick no, and resume my boring night. After ten more minutes of finding nothing on TV, I stand up, still wearing my pink hearts boxers and smurf T-shirt, and head to the kitchen.
The great thing about staying at home instead of going out on a date is the fact that I don’t have to match my clothes or care if my hair is pulled back in a ponytail. And I can eat junk food while drinking whatever I want instead of the proper wine that goes with my
uppity dish.
Beer it is.
Just as I get settled back on the sofa with a bag of marshmallows and my beer, someone knocks at the door. Damn. Can’t I just get a little peace?
“No war tonight,” I say, knowing damn well no one else would be knocking. It sounds more like he’s kicking the door rather than knocking.
“No war tonight. Let me in. I have food.”
Food? Why does he have food?
I jog over to the window and look out, making sure there’s no trick behind the door. Sure enough, he’s holding a pizza box with several large bags on top, which explains the kicking. But what’s going on?
When I open the door, he blows out an exasperated breath. “Finally. Move.”
I follow behind him as he starts unloading the numerous cartons of food onto my coffee table.
“What’s this?” I ask, motioning to his ungodly amount of takeout.
“Food.”
“For the entire neighborhood?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t have your number, and I had no idea what you would want, so I grabbed Chinese, pizza, sushi, vegan shit, and Thai food. Pick something and eat it,” he answers while pulling out a DVD.
“I’ll pass on the vegan shit,” I say with a small grin.
He snickers while popping open the DVD case.
“And that?” I ask, admittedly amused when I see the cover of the movie—Batman. Is he making sure I’m fully stocked for my night in?
“I refuse to watch a chick flick, but I have a big ass selection of movies. I just grabbed one. Sit. Watch. Eat.”
Bossy.
“You’re watching a movie with me?”
“Yep. And then we’ll discuss you taking better care of your car. It’s probably a good thing that you ran all over me.”