He leaned forward, pulling a slice out, and picked off all the bits of pepperoni. “Problem solved,” he said with a small smile.
I glanced down at the pizza and back at him. “Did you buy this because it’s my favorite? You know they’ll do half-and-half there, right?”
“I know.” He was looking at the slice he’d just put on his plate. “By the time I remembered, it was too late.”
“But why didn’t you get a pizza you like?”
“Because I didn’t buy it for me, you donut. I bought it to, I don’t know, say sorry. I knew I could just pick the pepperoni off. It’s just a pizza, Ava. It’s not the end of the world to pick off a topping I don’t like if it means we can go back to pissing each other off like normal.”
Oh, my God.
And therein lay the problem.
This was the kind of guy you married, ladies. The guy who brought your favorite, even if he hated it, just to make your day a little better.
I pulled a slice away. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just eat it.” He smirked. “Evidently, talking isn’t our forte today.”
“Or any day,” I added. “But I do have good news.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. I think me and Mr. Prickles might be friends.”
“Fuck off,” he replied. “You’re friends with him now? You’ve hated him ever since I brought him in.”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “But I had to feed him today, and since he didn’t bite me, we’re on good terms.”
Ethan laughed, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “Interjection: I’m getting a beer. You want one?”
“No. I’ll take some wine, though.”
“Do you have any plastic cups? I don’t want you cutting the entire finger off this time.”
I pursed my lips.
Laughing again, he quickly made his way to the kitchen. “Is that all it takes? A promise not to bite you and your friends?”
I shrugged. “It’s a good basis for a friendship if you ask me.”
“Mhmm. You’re the first person the vampires will come for if they ever rise up, you know that?” He shot me a look seconds before he poured me a glass of wine.
“And I’ll happily go. I’ve watched the Twilight movies. I’ve seen vampires in bed.”
Ethan choked on thin air. “This conversation took an interesting turn.”
My cheeks heated. “I watched Mr. Prickles for a bit today after I fed him. He’s kinda cute.”
“And now I have whiplash.” He handed me my glass of wine and sat down, taking a drink from his beer. “So does that mean the restrictions on him are lifted?”
I hesitated before I answered. Did I want to stumble upon him while making toast in the morning? Not particularly. “Maybe a little,” I said after a moment. “But I didn’t actually touch him, and if he appears from the shower while I’m using the toilet, I’m going to be pissed.”
Ethan held his hands up. “He won’t be free-range anytime soon. Maybe we should mediate sessions with you both.”
“Mediate sessions? Do I have to pay for that, Dr. Hawkins?”
He smirked. “No. But it won’t kill you to touch him.”
“It might. Those spikes are sharp.”
“How do you know? You’ve never touched them.”
I opened my mouth. Then closed it. Damn it. He was right again. This was an awful thing that kept happening. I didn’t like it when he was right.
“Whatever,” I said, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Shut up.”
He laughed, plucking the pepperoni off a slice of his own. Instead of dropping it in the box, he leaned over and put two extra pieces on my slice.
Then he winked.
And I’m not gonna lie, my heart sighed a little.
It was a thing, okay. Hearts could sigh.
Or maybe it was my soul. I didn’t know, but this was going from bad to worse where my emotions were concerned.
Never mind cooking. Sharing pepperoni was my love language.
So was sleep.
I loved sleep.
Sleep and food. I was basically a guy.
I finished my slice and picked up my napkin. One fajita and two slices of pizza, and I was full. It was the weirdest dinner I’d ever had, but it appeared to have done its job.
It wasn’t totally awkward anymore.
Maybe we could make this work.
I got up and went to the kitchen where I transferred the now-cold fajita fillings into a plastic tub to put in the fridge. I tucked it onto the shelf next to the eggs—when did we get eggs?—and turned around.
I walked right into Ethan.
I squealed, and he grabbed hold of my upper arms to stop me from stumbling backward.
“Sorry. I thought you knew I was there.”
I shook my head and jerked back, away from his touch. The last thing either of us needed was to be that close. “Sorry. I was wondering where the eggs came from.”
“The grocery store,” he drawled. “I bought them the other day.”
“Oh. Well. Clearly, I need to pay more attention.” I smiled tightly and darted out of his reach. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna go to bed and watch some Netflix, so…”
“Oh. Sure. ‘Night, Ava.”
“’Night.” I ducked into the bathroom to brush my teeth, then locked myself away in my room where my laptop was still open from this afternoon.
I positioned it on my nightstand so I could see and got ready for bed. Once my hair was tied back up, and I’d removed the death trap that was my bra, I climbed under the covers and hit play on the documentary I hadn’t finished watching yet.
My phone buzzed two minutes in.
ETHAN: Sorry if everything is awkward.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
* * *
AVA
Texting Sexting
I paused. I didn’t have to reply, and I knew that, but I wanted to. Maybe we’d be able to fully clear stuff up through text. It was easier than talking in person, right?
ME: It’ll work out. It was only once, right? It’s not like it went any further.
ETHAN: Right. I was able to think a lot last night at Noah’s, that’s all.
ME: About what?
ETHAN: About things I shouldn’t tell you.
ME: Then why bring it up?
ETHAN: I don’t know. I think a part of me wants to tell you.
ME: Well, make up your mind. You’re interrupting my show with your lollygagging.
ETHAN: Wtf is lollygagging?
ME: I saw it on Twitter. It’s a great word.
ETHAN: Doesn’t explain what it means.
ME: Fucking around. Dawdling.
ETHAN: Oh. Right.
ME: Well? Are you going to tell me or can I get back to the royal scandals?
ETHAN: I think I need to move out, Ava.
Well… fuck.
ME: Okay. If you think that’s best.
ETHAN: I don’t want to. But I realized last night that I can’t just turn off my attraction to you. I don’t want to do something we’ll both end up regretting.
ME: Like I said, if you think that’s best, do it. I understand.