I sneak into the kitchen, which is weird since this is my house, and I find the jackpot with a completely untouched pizza. So, I grabit and a couple of root beers from the fridge since I saw Avalon drinking it earlier, and I sneak back to my room.
Part of me’s surprised when I get back to my room and see her still sitting on my bed, but now she’s wearing myRockford Hockeyt-shirt that was thrown across the room at some point tonight.
“Nice shirt.” I grin as I toss the pizza box onto the bed and sit beside her.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks burn red, almost like her throwing on my shirt, which was easy for her to grab, is embarrassing. “I should’ve asked you first.”
“No.” I shake my head. “It suits you.”
She rolls her lips into her mouth like she’s trying to stop herself from smiling. I act as if I don’t notice as I flip open the pizza box.
“Oh god,” she moans. “I’m starving.”
“I think this pizza gave you a larger orgasm than I did.”
“Don’t act like you don’t think this is a beautiful pizza.” She grabs a slice. “If I could’ve slept with this pizza over you, I would’ve.”
She shoves half the slice into her mouth, taking a large bite, and unlike her, I don’t even try to hide my smile.
“I hope you keep that in mind when you realize sleeping with Zeke Harris is never a one-time experience.”
“Except it is. You even said it yourself. This is a one-time thing.”
“Oh, definitely. Once you’re out that door, we never revisit this. However, that doesn't mean you won’t be craving me for the rest of time.”
“Craving you?” She chuckles as she takes another bite. “If anyone is craving anyone, it’ll be you craving me. And while you do that, I’ll be craving this pizza.”
I pick up a slice of pizza and watch her as I take a bite.
“Can I grab something to drink?” she asks through a full mouth. “Or trouble you to—”
I pull the root beers from my sweatpants’ pocket and hand one to her. She swallows her pizza, watching me as she takes the can.
“Thank you.”
Then we sit there and eat our pizza in silence. Typically, when I sleep with someone, she falls asleep the second we’re done, and then we pick back up in the morning. So, I don’t know how to do small talk after sex.
“So, why don’t you do strings?” I know it’s a loaded question, but I don’t know what else to talk about.
“That’s a pretty loaded question.” She drops the rest of the crust from her last piece of pizza back into the box. “More like a second encounter question, and we just aren’t gonna get there.”
“Fair.”
“What’s your reason?”
“Nope.” I shut the pizza box. “You can’t avoid my question and then ask me the same thing.”
“Fair.” She smiles. “How long have you been non-committal?”
“Since high school.” That’s a little bit easier for me to answer. It’s not as awkward as saying the reason I do no-strings is because my mom’s dying.
Talking about a parent dying is definitely a mood killer.
“Were you ever a strings-attached person?” She pulls her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.
“Yeah. I was dating a girl for almost two years before I decided that getting all the benefits of a relationship, without the actualrelationship, just made more sense for me.” I pick at the corner of the pizza box. “Your turn. I’m not gonna answer all your questions and not get any answers in return.”
“I guess I’ve never been one for commitment.” Her mouth twists. “The only person you can ever fully rely on is yourself, so why would I bring other people into the equation if I didn’t have to?”