Page 7 of Besties
“These should fit.”
I took the top off and gawked at the shirt. It was blue, with dark and light checkers of color. I placed the box on the table and slid the shirt out, lifted it, then rubbed it against my skin.
“It’s so soft.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d like it. If not, I have several other colors as well. Plus, a few pairs of pants and a couple sets of shoes.”
When I reached for the receipt, he lashed out and snatched it from me.
“That’s mine.”
“But how much did you—”
He waved to cut me off. “That’s not important. Now, are you going to get dressed so we can eat, or would you prefer to just stay like you are?”
I yawned, my jaw popping, and he grinned.
“Right. Okay, we’ll eat, and then you’ll get some sleep. I’m going to assume you haven’t done much of that lately either.” He fixed me with a stare. “Why didn’t you go see your mom?”
She’d moved away a few years ago, got married to Walter Desmond, and they were happy. Why would I want to screw up their lives?
“Aw, tell me you didn’t.” He closed the distance between us and towered over me, his arms crossed. “Your mom knows, right?”
“No.” My voice was small and wobbly. “She’d worry.”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “Oh my God, you’re such an idiot. Okay, we’ll eat, and then you’ll call her, and then you’ll go to bed.”
I wanted to work myself into a snit, ask him since when was he in charge of me, but the truth was, I’d watched as my life swirled down the toilet and did nothing to stop that from happening. I had to admit, Richie was my anchor right now. I needed him more now than I ever had.
“But she’s going to say how she told me Jesse was no good.” Just like Richie had tried. Seems that they knew him better than me, and they’d never even met him.
“No, she’s going to ask you if you want her to come see you. She’s going to ask if you want to come live with her. The one thing I guarantee, she will never be disappointed in you.” When the knock at the door came, Richie grinned. “Food!”
He hurried over, pulled the door open, and let the waiter in. The server moved the table to the middle of the room, then knelt beside the cart and opened a box beneath it, which he had the food in. He started to unload it, and I watched in awe as he took out plate after plate, placing each on the tabletop. No matter how big it was, the food that Richie had ordered would never fit on the cart. When he stood, he took the covers of the first two and showed us the pizzas. He lifted the tops off two more plates, showing off a mound of fries on one and glazed chicken wings from the other. Finally, he took plastic wrap from two slices of something that looked absolutely sinful: incredibly thick pieces of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.
“Would you like me to set the food up on the dining room table, sir?”
Richie shook his head. “We’ll take care of that. Thanks for asking, though.” He winked at me. “Hungry?”
“But this isn’t what you ordered.”
Richie grinned. “I might have added some stuff when I was shopping. We need to eat, but there’s nothing that says we can’t have a good, old-fashioned pigfest while we’re at it.” He signed the ticket, slipped something into the waiter’s hand that had the man’s eyes bugging out, then walked him to the door. “Thank you. We’ll leave the cart outside when we’re done.”
A quick smile and nod. “Have a good evening, gentlemen.”
Richie closed the door behind him, then turned to me. “Let’s eat.”
The grin he gave me was infectious, because I found myself smiling for the first time since this whole nightmare started. We took the plates and put them on the dining table in the room, then sat down to eat. The mound of cheese on the pizza was delicious, and so were the wings. When Richie opened a bottle of root beer and handed it to me, I took it and drained half of it in one go.
We didn’t talk while we ate, both of us too busy scarfing down to bother. When we’d finished, the table looked like a horde of locusts had swarmed over it and picked everything to the bone.
I leaned back and rubbed my belly. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Good to know you’re feeling better. Do you think you’re ready to call your mom now?”
My full stomach clenched, and I worried I might barf up everything I’d just eaten. “Honestly, no.”
He reached across the table and put his hand on top of mine. “Are you afraid of what she’ll say? Really?”
