Page 42 of Bazooka
“I know what I’ll do,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ll make us breakfast.”
“You can cook?” Bazooka asked me, sounding unconvinced.
“I’m a pretty good cook, actually,” I replied, opening the fridge. “God, Baz. You don’t even have eggs in here.”
“I bought stuff,” he grumbled. “It should be in the kitchen somewhere.”
“You bought junk. I can’t believe you have all those muscles if this is your food of choice. Do you work out?”
“Nope. Mother Nature was generous, I guess.”
“Too generous, if you ask me,” I murmured. “By the way, do you think I’m attractive?”
When he didn’t reply, I looked at him, only to find his gray gaze fixed on me.
“Objectively… yeah,” he said finally.
I smiled widely. “And subjectively?”
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Subjectively, I think you’re a nightmare.”
My smile fell.
“Fuck you, Levi.”
His smile appeared.
“You too, Lucius.”
My plans for a romantic breakfast were ruined, but I was nothing if not resourceful. Since cooking was postponed for thetime being, I headed to the bedroom. Now that I finally had my clothes here, I felt almost at home. Better, even. I changed into a white T-shirt and jeans before returning tothe room.
When Bazooka saw me, he blinked.
“You look good.”
I gasped theatrically. “Noo, is that a compliment?”
“I mean, I’m used to seeing you in my sweats, so… Wait, are you wearing makeup?”
I scoffed, looking at my cuticles. “Pfft. Of course not.”
Was the concealer really makeup? Really?
Bazooka smirked, opening a bottle of water. He could see right through me, the bastard.
“You finished the table,” I said, dragging my hand over the smooth wooden surface. “It looks nice. Incidentally, have you ever fucked on a table?”
He choked on water, spilling some of it over his shirt.
“Jesus Christ, Luz,” he breathed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “Language. God.”
I blinked innocently. “Are you a prude?”
“No, I’m not a prude, but you can’t say whatever crosses your mind.”
“Hmm,” I hummed. “I’ll think about it. Do you need anything from the store?”
“No, why?”
