Page 19 of Fighting

“So.” I choke back the need clawing up my throat. The last thing I want is to come on too strong. My goal tonight is to impress this woman. “What’s on the agenda tonight?”

“First, dinner. Where do you want to order from? Or, I’m a great cook,” she practically purrs.

Fuck, she’s cruel. I inhale, willing my dick to stand down.

“Cooking involves knives, though, and I would hate to slip and stab you if you got too annoying. Though that would get rid of this pesky problem of being around you too much.” She flutters her lashes and pouts her glossy lips.

A hearty laugh erupts from my lungs. This girl is going to be the end of me, and I’m here for it. Fuck, I’m down bad.

“There’s a new spot a few towns over. We could go out,” I prod.

For a split second, her confident mask drops, and uncertainty flickers behind her eyes. As quickly as it appeared, though, it’s gone.

“Forget it,” I say with a dismissive wave. “How about pizza? I have Mariano’s pulled up online already. Do you want toppings? Apps? Zerts?”

She screws up her face in disgust. “Apps? Zerts? You can’t say the full words?”

“You don’t know the show?” I clutch my chest, incensed. How is this possible?

“Oh lord, here we go again. Mateo’s latest obsession. Please enlighten me. But wait until the pizza is here. Whatever you get will be fine. Plus a small house salad.”

I cock a brow. “Anything?”

“Whatever.” She inspects her nails, looking bored.

“Anchovies?”

“Why not?” She finally meets my eyes, her expression deadpan. “When we visited my grandparents, they ordered theirs with tuna and corn. Apparently, it’s popular there. You cannot gross me out, dude. I’ve had to eat corn and tuna pizza.”

My stomach rolls. Yuck. “Okay, so pineapple and ham it is.”

With a lift of one shoulder, she blinks once. “Like I said—whatever is fine.”

Half an hour later, the delivery guy has dropped off two pizzas, one with ham and pineapple and the other classic Margherita, along with her house salad.

We put on a rerun and dig in. Nessa’s legs are tucked under her on the couch, her skirt falling above the knee and exposing a hint of her satiny thighs. With any luck, having a full belly will brighten her mood. When the third episode wraps and thedo you wish to continue watching?screen loads, it’s time to try again.

“What do we have to do for the festival?” I ask.

She eyes the giant binder sitting on the coffee table. Jim, generously, dropped the massive thing off earlier. “I assume it’s in there. Have you not looked yet?”

Is she seriously irritated that I haven’t read the binder? It’s just a binder. We’ve been to this thing a million times.

“No. Why would I? Why do what’s already been done before?” I smirk.

She leans forward to grab the enormous thing, the movement causing her sweater to glide down her shoulder and expose her creamy skin.

A cluster of dark brown birthmarks peek out, and a hazy memory comes to me. I’m back in the hotel room with her that night, with her silky slip dress in my hands, my body pressed to hers against the hotel door as we fumble with the keys. Kissing her along each of the four spots, asking her whether she realized how sexy they were. Asking if she knew about the old wives’ tales, how they mean she’s a take-charge person. The moment we stepped inside, she took the comment as an invitation to take her dress off. She stayed like that, in her underwear and heels, making jokes and verbal jabs, while touching me, kissing me. The most delicious mix of teasing.

I shake my head and stand, yanking on the collar of my shirt. “I need a water. Want one?” I open the freezer and stick my head in farther than necessary, desperate to cool down.

Okay, time to try and get some points on the board.

I fill two glasses, then snag the ball cap off the island, pull it on, and head back to the living room, turning my usual swagger up a notch. Once I’ve set our waters on gray and white marble coasters, I slow my movements to ensure she’s looking at me, then I straighten and slowly turn the cap backward.

Her pupils dilate. Dope, the playing field is leveling out.

Her sweater still hangs off one shoulder, the cut of the dress beneath it highlighting the ample curve of her breasts. It’s impossible not to look.

---