We laughed together, and then he accepted his beer glass. He took a long pull and said, “I thought you were working late.”
“Got off early. Brewery wasn’t very busy.”
“Nice. I bet it’s more relaxing when you’re not rushing around like crazy.”
I gave him a wry grin. “Actually, I like it better when we’re slammed. It makes the time fly by, and my tips are better.”
He looked at his beer. “I don’t have to tip you for this, do I?”
I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Iguessnot, but it makes you a bad guest.”
Hunter laughed more than the joke deserved, eyes locked onto mine and smiling like he’d been waiting all day for me to get home.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting someone?” I asked. I was struck with the horrifying thought that maybe his fiancée had flown in to surprise him, and was currently waiting at the door. With everything going on in my life, I didn’t think I could handle that.
Fortunately, Hunter said, “That’s the pizza I ordered.” He brushed past me and went downstairs.
“Pizza is better than a tip,” I pointed out.
He put his beer down, signed for the pizza, then closed the door. “Have you eaten?”
“I haven’t, no,” I replied while following him into the kitchen. The pizza smelleddivine.“But I don’t want to mooch off you.”
“You’re not mooching. I got pineapple on half the pizza. That’s your favorite, right?”
He remembers that?Brad and I used to fight over pizza toppings every time we ordered delivery. Brad always wanted meat lovers, while I preferred Hawaiian. Usually my parents forced us to compromise and just get pepperoni.
“You got half the pizza for me even though you thought I was working late?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I figured you might be hungry when you eventually got home. Or you could have it as leftovers tomorrow. Come on, help me eat this. I got breadsticks, too.”
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I sat on the couch and started eating. Hunter plopped down on the opposite end and turned on the baseball game. The game was scoreless in the fifth, but the Indians had the bases loaded.
“It’s weird, being back here,” he said.
“Weird how?” I asked, even though I had been thinking the same thing.
“Sitting here, on this couch. Watching the Indians while eating dinner. It doesn’t feel like it was five years ago.”
“The time went by fast,” I said. “Before you know it, we’ll be thirty.”
He groaned. “Please don’t say that.” He bit into a breadstick. “It’s nice, though. Being back here.”
“You should have come back sooner,” I joked. “Columbus is the Paris of Ohio, after all.”
He laughed. “I wanted to come back. Before now, I mean. But I never had a good reason until now.” Hunter smiled at me, and for a few seconds I could pretend thatIwas that reason, and not the fact that he was filming a series of throw-back videos.
My phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize, so I ignored it. Two pizza bites later, I had a voicemail.
“Hi, Ms. Porter?”came a familiar voice. “This is Michael, the coordinator for the Small Business Expo. I got your email. Unfortunately, we cannot give out any refunds at this time. We were willing to accommodate you by moving your table to a more desirable location, but unfortunately you left the event early. If you have any questions please do not hesitate…”
I ended the voicemail and sighed.
“Spam call?” Hunter asked.
“It was actually the coordinator from the Small Business Expo. Just going over some details of the event. No big deal.”
“How did the event go? Did you get a lot of interest in your new business venture?”