Greg dropped me off after shopping in time for my shift at the coffee shop. We were busier than usual, so I got out a bit late, but I managed to pick up enough pizzas to satisfy the hungry guys in my apartment. Sunday night football at our place was becoming a tradition. One that I loved. We got the pizza, they brought the drinks, and everyone brought a bag of chips or some other snack.

The Uber driver dropped me off, and the doorman hit the elevator buttons for me. Then I got to the apartment.

With my hands full, I struggled to open the door. After my attempt at turning the knob failed, and almost sent the pizzas toppling over, I kicked the door with the toe of my tennis shoe instead. “Pizza!”

No answer. No mad rush to the door.

Again, I kicked, the door thudding. “Derek! Liam? Let me in.”

Still no answer.

The five boxes of pizza were pretty heavy, and my frustration mounted. I gave the door a sound kick. “Holy crap. What’s a girl gotta do to get some help around here?” I spun in a circle, muttering to myself. “When I didn’t want any help, there were guys crawling all over the place, pushing buttons, unlocking doors. But now, when I need it? Nope. Not one. I bet if I said I was thinking of Derek naked, poof, he’d be right here.” I completed my circle to a deep chuckle and an open door.

“Need some help, Cupcake?”

I glared at him. “No, in the time it took you to answer the damn door, I grew a third arm, so I’m all set. Thanks.”

He lifted the pizza boxes from my hands, kissing the top of my head. “Glad you’re still thinking about me.” Curse words had little impact on him, based on his laughter. He called out, “Avery’s here with the pizza.”

I was met with a chorus of “Hey, Avery” and “Pizza!” then a rush for the counter. Derek handed me two slices of my favorite ham and pineapple before anyone else could touch it. Liam loved it too, and once he got a hold of it, there was hardly any stopping him.

“Thanks.” I muttered the word, still annoyed.

Derek’s soft smile curled up on one side. “Kevin brought a raspberry ale and a hard cider. He thinks you’ll like both of them.”

Kevin had started coming again, always on his best behavior. He still wasn’t my favorite, but he wasn’t nearly as obnoxious as the first couple of times I’d met him. And Rhonda must have sent some of her preferred drinks because he always showed up with fruity beer, ciders and hard sparkling seltzer. To my surprise, I enjoyed most of them. Whiskey was still my favorite, but some of the other choices went better with pizza. I helped myself to a raspberry ale, then claimed our chair.

My other favorite thing about football nights was snuggling with Derek in the overstuffed armchair. The guys would sprawl everywhere else, but the chair was ours. Sometimes I’d perch on the arm, or I’d sit on Derek’s lap. Other times I sat on the floor, leaning between his knees. Tonight though, I wanted to press up against his side, his arm around me. And he did not disappoint.

The game wasn’t very exciting. Neither team mattered much to me, and it wasn’t a very close score. By the end of the third quarter, I grew bored, hardly paying attention to the TV. I did notice that Liam was drinking a lot more than usual.

Derek followed me to the kitchen the next time I got up.

“What’s with Liam?” I asked quietly, opening another ale.

He grabbed a light beer for himself. “That girl he’s been seeing…Karen, Carole…?”

“Carla,” I supplied.

“That’s it.” He cracked open his beer and took a sip. “You know she’s been off lately. That’s why he came over this morning, to talk about her. After you left, she called, and they had a really big fight. It wasn’t pretty.”

I nodded. “Maybe we should do a double date, take the pressure off him a little.”

Derek’s face lit up. “You’d do that?”

“Sure.” His friend was definitely growing on me, and he’d been a huge help with all the party planning. “I mean, I like Liam well enough. It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll talk to him. Maybe set something up for next weekend.”

Liam had disappeared when we returned to our chair, and I had a sneaking suspicion that if I checked my bed I’d find him passed out in it. My heart leapt at the thought of spending the night with Derek, even as I scolded myself for the reaction. But it was no use, the game was no longer on my radar. Derek was.

Is the chair smaller? It seemed to have a bad habit of shrinking on me.

My thigh pressed firmly against Derek’s, kindling a warmth between us so intense it was nearly a being of its own. His hip bone touched my side as I shifted. My shoulder nestled against his ribs. If I turned a few degrees, I could press my chest to his, and how I ached to do just that. Screw it. I want to throw my leg over his, straddle him and ride him all the way home.

I wasn’t going to survive the night. My dreams lately had all featured Derek, prominently. And they had not been rated PG. If I slept in his bed tonight, I’d probably wake up screaming his name. Oh, this is bad.

The guys started leaving, one by one. I went to clean up the kitchen, Derek escorting his guests out before coming to help. He kept brushing up against me as if the kitchen had shrunk, too. His hand grazed my hip in a familiar way that only stoked the fire within me. Maybe we should just get it out of our system? A one-time, let-it-all-out orgasm-fest to burn off this tension. I mulled that over, wondering if it would work.