Текст книги "Sweet"

Автор книги: Erin McCarthy

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

It was tempting. The carpet was dirty brown, stained with years of street dirt and mud and who knew what else. The couch had a sag to each cushion, and it might have been a faded red plaid, but it was hard to say exactly. The oak coffee table was covered with video game boxes and an ashtray loaded with butts. There were no curtains, just a sheet that had been hung with thumbtacks. I wanted to bail, I’m not going to lie. But it was just too rude. If I had absorbed anything positive from my childhood, it was manners that popped up when I least expected them. “No, it’s fine. I appreciate you putting up with this arrangement since it was Tyler’s idea and you and I are not exactly best friends.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. There is plenty of room with the boys gone.”

“Well, thank you.” That was about as gushing as I was going to get about it, so I hoped he heard my sincerity.

“You’re welcome.”

However, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Can I open a window? I have asthma, and the smoke bothers me.” Which wasn’t exactly the truth. At all. But I was going to be coughing in another ten minutes if I didn’t get some fresh air.

Riley gave me an incredulous look. “You don’t have asthma. You’re just saying that because you think it stinks in here.”

Bingo. “What? Of course I do. Why would I lie about having asthma? And how do you know if I have it or not?” Maybe that was defending myself too passionately. I shut my mouth, cheeks just a little hot that he had busted me in my lie.

“I know because I’ve seen you outside in the middle of winter, I’ve seen you dance all night at a club, and I’ve seen you talk enough to make your teeth ache, but I’ve never once seen you use an inhaler. And you’ve never mentioned it before, and Tyler and Nathan smoke in the apartment all the time.”

Damn it. Why couldn’t he be an idiot? It would be much easier to manipulate him that way. “Fine, you’re right. But I am sensitive to the smoke. Besides, opening the window will let some of the heat out.”

“It lets heat in.”

“No, it doesn’t. How does that even make sense?” I sat on the couch and my ass almost hit the floor I sank so deep. It was like being bear-hugged by a marshmallow.

“How many houses without AC have you lived in?”

What could I say to that? “None. But that doesn’t change the fact that your logic is illogical.”

“That’s an absurd statement. And it’s true. You keep the windows closed and covered during the day, open them to the breeze at night.”

“So what time can I open them? Is there like a set time? Or do they just automatically fly open at sunset?” I coughed, which was actually an accident. The smoke haze really was getting to me. Or maybe I just needed a drink of water, but either way, it was bad timing.

Riley gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, princess, you won’t win any Oscars, but I give you points for trying. Look, I think we need some house rules.”

“Oh, goodie.”

“Let’s go sit outside for a minute and we can discuss it.”

Why did I feel so suspicious? I eyed him. “Why?”

“Because it doesn’t stink out there. Well, not like smoke anyway.”

“Are you being thoughtful?” I asked, teasing, but kind of touched.

“Yeah, I suppose I am, so you better enjoy it while you can.”

Then again, I wasn’t sure how thoughtful it really was when he reached for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table and grabbed them.

Maybe a house rule could be that he had to wear a shirt, because his bare skin was messing with my head. And my hormones. He had the same tattoo as Tyler, the words TRUE FAMILY on his bicep in a tribal script. Rory had told me TRUE were the guys’ initials, meant to signify their solidarity. How they were always there for each other, despite the fact that their father was in prison, and before she had died, their mother had been a negligent parent and drug abuser.

What would it be like to have a brother like that, instead of the self-serving, backstabbing one I had gotten? What would it be like to have Riley Mann loyal to you? A shiver ran through me despite the heat, and I focused on his other tattoos, the screaming skull that marched down his flank and the weird thing on his chest that may or may not have been a winged werewolf.

I followed him through the kitchen to the back door, where he took a seat at an old, peeling, and rotten picnic table. I sat gingerly on the opposite side, worried about splinters in my butt or at least getting lead paint poisoning from the chips that were clinging to my hands just from pressing my palms on the boards. Riley lit his cigarette and blew the smoke away from me. He smoked the same brand as his brother, and he looked similar enough to Tyler that there were moments that I wondered why I felt so much more on-guard around him than I did Tyler. Back before Tyler and Rory were together, I had even had sex with Tyler, more than once, and yet I thought of him as a friend, someone I was totally comfortable around. My reaction to Riley was different, and it really made no damn sense.

I was attracted to him in a way I never had been with Tyler, and it was annoying.

Maybe it was because Tyler was more sincere, where Riley hid his emotions behind humor. It meant he could be thinking or feeling anything. It was both annoying and sexy.

“So, house rules?” I asked him. “I can’t wait to hear where you’re going with this.” I was sure it would piss me off, and anger was better than sitting there thinking that he made my vag tingle.

“I don’t mean to be a dick,” he started.

Promising.

“But the thing is, it’s my house and I should be able to do whatever the fuck I want in my own house.”

Perfect. “If this is you not meaning to be a dick, I can’t wait to hear where the rest of this is going.”

He made a face and took another drag off of his cigarette. “But, while you’re here, I won’t smoke in the house. It’s summer, and there’s no reason I can’t come outside. Truthfully, Tyler is the real nicotine junkie in this house anyway. I only smoke two or three a day.”

That was actually pretty damn nice. Probably the nicest thing he’d ever said to me, and I had no smartass response to it. “Thanks.”

But then I couldn’t help but add, “If you only smoke two or three a day, why smoke at all?”

He made a face at me. “Who asked for your opinion?”

I was already in it. I might as well finish my true thoughts on the subject. It was one thing to ruin his own lungs, but kids never have a choice. They are forced to live like their parents or whoever is raising them. “I have to say, I don’t think secondhand smoke is good for Jayden and Easton.”

His younger brother Jayden was eighteen, and he had Down syndrome. He was always smiling and laughing, and he was easy to like. Easton was only eleven, and who his father was seemed to be a mystery. He was quiet and serious, and the few times I had seen him, he gave me the willies, I can’t lie. But that didn’t mean he deserved lung cancer at eleven years old because of his brothers.

Riley’s jaw clenched, and I knew I had made him mad. “House Rule Number One: Mind your own fucking business.”

“That’s kind of vague,” I complained. “I mean, I’m staying in your house, so I am sort of in your business unintentionally.”

“How about this? You’re staying here for free and I’m letting you. If you criticize the way I’m taking care of my brothers, I’ll throw you and your pink luggage out into the fucking street.” And he blew a huge cloud of smoke right into my face.

Okay, so maybe I had gone too far. I didn’t mean to actually imply he was doing a shitty job with his brothers. Well, I guess I had in regard to the smoking issue, but that wasn’t a general statement about his surrogate parenting. “Got it. Sorry.”

“That about killed you to say, didn’t it?” he asked, with a sudden grin.

Yes. “Of course not. I was wrong. Just because it isn’t healthy for the boys doesn’t mean I should point that out to you.” Hmm. That wasn’t really a great apology. I tried to channel my New Hope bible study personality—the one that was polite and kind and nonjudgmental. But that part of me seemed to be missing whenever I wasn’t in my hometown of Troy, and most of the time I liked it that way.

Riley rolled his eyes. “Rule Number Two: Don’t piss me off.”

“I was thinking these rules would be more like along the lines of wash your dirty dishes and lock the house when you leave. You know, specific things. I feel like you’re setting me up to fail.”

“I feel like you’re setting me up to have an ulcer.” He clutched his chest like he was in pain and grimaced. “Or have a heart attack.”

I laughed. “Now who wants an Oscar?”

“I get up at seven for work.”

“A.M.? Ew.”

“So I would appreciate it if you don’t make a ton of noise after eleven at night since I’ll be in bed.”

Why did a shiver just roll up my spine? It was eight billion degrees outside. Oh, yeah, I knew why. It was Riley mentioning the “b” word. Now I was picturing him naked with a sheet up to his waist. “Sure, no problem. I usually work three to eleven, so I’ll be quiet when I come in.”

“You’re not planning on taking the bus back here at night, are you?” The very thought looked like it was increasing the pain in his chest.

“No. I can take a cab. It will only be, like, ten bucks.”

“You can sleep in Jayden and Easton’s room. It has an AC window unit.”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. “Really? Oh my God, I love you.” I had been imagining sweaty sleepless nights, my thighs stuck together. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“Oh, I have a unit in my room, too. Only Tyler’s room doesn’t have one.”

I would have preferred to sleep in Tyler’s room instead of where a couple of teen and preteen boys were living, but cool air won out over a funk-free environment. “How did Tyler get so screwed?”

“Cuz he’s an asshole.”

“Well, that clears it up.” I rolled my eyes, picking at my T-shirt to get air circulation between my boobs.

“You can use anything in the kitchen, though I’m not sure why you’d want to. But there are actually real kitchen things now that Rory’s been back around. She bakes and shit.”

“I won’t be baking.” I would rather do just about anything else, frankly.

“That does not surprise me. You and Rory aren’t much alike, are you?”

I shrugged. “I guess not, on the surface. She’s not big on sarcasm or teasing.”

“You have those down pretty good, I’d say.”

“You, too.” Grinning at Riley, I added, “I feel like we should high-five here or something.”

“Don’t get carried away.”

My tongue came out before I could stop it. But he just smiled. “In return for not smoking in the house, I’m asking you to keep your girl shit out of the bathroom.”

Girl shit? “If I can’t keep my shit in the bathroom, where else would it go?” I asked, amused.

“You know what I mean. I don’t want to go to brush my teeth and there isn’t an inch of counter space to use because you have creams and equipment and whatever.”

“Equipment?” I snorted. “I don’t use power tools to get ready in the morning. But fine, I will put my blow-dryer away after each use. And I promise to never ask you to pick up a box of tampons for me on the way home from work.”

The horror on his face made me laugh. “Don’t tell me you have never bought tampons before?”

He shook his head. “I’m a dude. Why would I buy tampons?”

“For a girlfriend.” It seemed obvious to me.

He flicked his spent cigarette off into the yard. I could see there were literally hundreds of butts in the dirt that might have been an actual yard back in about 1965. There was such pride in home ownership at work right here.

“No. I probably would if she was, like, bleeding on my car seats, but otherwise, no.”

Was he for real? “You are so ridiculous. You’re not talking about a bullet wound. Don’t be gross.”

“You’re the one who brought up tampons. And speaking of that whole guy-girl thing . . .”

Were we? I didn’t think we were, but this could be interesting. “Yes?”

“If you have Nerd Boy or someone over here, that’s fine, whatever, just keep it down, okay? And wash my brother’s sheets the next day. Laundry is in the basement.”

My jaw fell so fast and far it was amazing it didn’t land in my lap. “I hadn’t really given any thought to it. Since it’s only a week, I think I can manage to hold off on hookups. But feel free to do whatever yourself. You don’t even need to keep it down—I have earplugs. Kylie snores.”

What the hell was I saying? Earplugs crammed into my cranium wouldn’t drown out the sound of sex if I knew to listen for the sound of sex. The last thing in the freaking world I wanted was for Riley to be banging some chick just a few feet and a thin wall away from me.

But why was that exactly? It wasn’t like I wanted to bang him. Not really.

A horrible thought occurred to me. With the house to himself, maybe Riley had been envisioning a week of brother-free boning. Maybe he had a girlfriend. He could. How would I know? No, wait. He’d said he didn’t want a relationship, so there wasn’t a girlfriend. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been planning on a sweaty sexfest, though.

I wondered what Riley’s type was. I realized I had no clue.

Then again, I wasn’t sure I knew what my own type was.

“That’s very considerate of you,” he said dryly.

“I’m like that,” I told him. “What can I say?”

“So you don’t mind if I have a girl over?” He was studying me, his brown eyes indecipherable.

Yes. “No.” I waved my hand. “God, why would I care? I mean, it’s your house. You should be able to do what you want, right? House Rule Number One.”

Riley nodded slowly. “Right. Thanks for understanding.”

That was me, being a big person. I wanted to beat the shit out of myself for being so stupid. This was what being nice got you—your worst nightmare. I may want to throw beer cans at Riley on a regular basis, but I did not want to see him making out with some giggling twit on the couch. Because she would be a twit, that was a guarantee. She would also be pretty and I would hate her for it.

And now I was jealous of a fictional girl. Fabulous.

I stood up. “I need some water or something. My throat is super dry. If you think of any other rules, let me know.” I needed to get away from him. “I think I’ll run to the store and get some essentials like diet pop and yogurt.” Possibly an air freshener or two.

“And how are you going to get to the store, princess?”

Riley wasn’t easy to charm, but I went for it. I gave him a pleading smile. “I was hoping I could borrow your car?” I showed lots of teeth and pulled my shoulders up by my ears. It usually worked with most guys.

He shook his head and gave a scoff of a laugh. “You’re fucking unreal. The keys are on the coffee table.”

Hot damn. “Really? Thanks!” I impulsively threw my arms around his bare shoulders and gave him a half-hug.

It was a mistake. He smelled like skin, and his body was hard beneath my touch. I heard a sharp intake of his breath near my ear. I pulled back quickly, my nipples suddenly tight. “Thanks, Riley,” I repeated.

He just waved me off, not looking at me. “Bring beer.”

“I’ll try.”

As I left, I saw he was pulling another cigarette out of the pack.

Interesting.

Chapter Three

Without knowing who the bed belonged to, I had chosen the one closest to the air-conditioning unit stuffed into the window. The second window was bare of blinds or drapes, so I had duct-taped my hoodie to it, arms spread out like an Abercrombie crucifix. The thought made me grimace reflexively, twenty years of religious training strong. My father would have a heart attack and die if I said something like that out loud.

The makeshift window covering was because I was pretty sure that picnic table was right outside and I didn’t like the idea that Riley could be sitting out there watching me wander around his brothers’ bedroom. Not that I thought Riley was a creeper, but it just made me feel better to have it covered. It would prevent the morning sun from pouring in, too.

Back from the store, I leaned against the wall on the bed and called Kylie, knowing this was too important for texting. I needed to hear that she understood how important this was. Surveying the room as the phone rang, I tried to imagine Jayden and Easton in here, and I couldn’t quite picture it. There wasn’t really anything personal to the room. The walls were blank, the sheets generic, the quilts old crocheted afghans in a god-awful orange and black color combo. I realized they might have been made to represent the Cincinnati Bengals football team, but that didn’t excuse the fact that they were just ugly.

The closet had clothes hanging up, but most were on the floor in a pile. I only saw one lone pair of shoes, which made me wonder how two guys survived with three pairs of shoes between them, assuming they currently both had shoes on their feet. There was a dresser in the corner that had been painted black but was chipping off everywhere, showing the original oak stain beneath it. There were a few things on top, like earbuds, a couple of dollars in change, and a receipt for the gas station. A Twix bar and a Dr Pepper. Yes, I looked.

It was nothing like the way I’d grown up, my mother’s personal doll to dress and show off, the house a tribute to God and the almighty dollar.

“What’s up!” Kylie said as she answered.

Her energy amazed me. Or maybe it was her inability to ever feel depressed. I envied that about her, and sometimes wondered if we were friends because I wanted to leech some of that positivity off of her. But I couldn’t be that selfish, could I? I loved Kylie like a sister and we had been friends since middle school, when we both made the volleyball team, and we had been an inseparable pair ever since. In college we had just added Rory to our friendship.

“Hey. What are you doing? You didn’t drop my stuff off yet, did you?” The plan was for Kylie to take my dorm junk to my parents’ house for the summer to store since they had plenty of room. Kylie’s family had a typical suburban brick colonial, a decent size, but nothing like my house, plus she had three younger siblings, so their house was loaded down with sports equipment.

“No, I’ll do it tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to dinner with my parents.”

“Okay, cool. Remember what you have to say to my mom. My dad won’t be there during the day so you won’t have to see him. You have to tell my mom that I will call her from Appalachia.”

“I know. No worries. I won’t screw it up.”

Kylie and Rory knew the truth, of course, but Kylie was the only one I would ask to directly lie on my behalf. I trusted her totally to have my back, but the problem was that with Kylie, you never knew when she might flake out. Sometimes her words moved faster than her thoughts, and she was notorious for “oops” moments, like the one in high school, when she had told a guy I just met that my dad was a minister. Or when she had told Rory we had offered Tyler money to hit on her. Or told Nathan that he shook his head like a wet dog during oral sex.

“You cannot in any way, shape, or form tell my mother that I am still in Cincinnati. Pinky swear.”

“I pinky swear. God.”

“Or I will be dead. I will in put under house arrest until I’m twenty-one and that is almost eight months from now.”

“I know.” I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

Still sweating, I stripped off my T-shirt and stood in front of the air-conditioning, letting it blast straight on to my stomach and chest. “When do you start the internship? Next week, right?”

“Yeppers. It’s going to be awesome.”

Kylie was going to be working at the hospital in the nurses’ station, doing their menial crap. It sounded like a whole new dimension of hell to me, but Kylie loved people, and she was excited to be giving directions to visiting family members and taking Popsicles to sick people.

There was a knock on my door, and I told Kylie, “Hang on.” Then I called in the direction of the hall, “Yeah?”

What I didn’t expect was Riley to actually open the door. Yeah didn’t mean open. Yeah didn’t mean check me out in my bra, letting the air-conditioning freeze my sweat in stink streams down between my tits and disappear into my belly button. I almost dropped my phone when I turned and saw him standing the doorway, his eyes trained on my bra. Granted, it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t be shown in a bikini. I wasn’t even showing as much, because I had shorts on, but it didn’t make me feel any less naked. Especially given the way he was staring, his nostrils flaring.

“What?” I asked, irritated. Or turned on, whatever you wanted to call it.

His eyes finally lifted and met mine, but they were dark and sexy, intense. “I ordered a pizza when you were at the store. It’s here if you want some.”

“Cool. Thanks.” I was trying to be casual about the whole thing, but then I realized that this was a perfect opportunity to lay down a rule of my own. “You probably shouldn’t come in my room unless I say ‘come in.’”

But it turned out it was the absolutely wrong thing to say. He grinned, and his hands slid into the front pockets of his jeans. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, not that I could blame him, given that it was ass-crack hot in the house. Now he didn’t look in any hurry to retreat or to check out my chest further. He just stood there smirking.

“Why, what are you doing in here that you need a locked door and a hoodie duct-taped to the window?”

“What do you mean?” Though I knew exactly what he meant.

“You’re either cooking meth or filming a sexy YouTube video.”

I snorted. “No. Now go away. I’m on the phone.”

“Fine. Hurry, or I’m eating the whole pizza without you.” He turned, the metal-spiked bracelets on his wrist jangling as he pulled his hand out of his pocket.

Feeling flushed, I lifted my phone back to my ear. “Hello?”

Kylie had hung up. Nice.

But she had texted.

Riley? HAWT.

I rolled my eyes, but even as I tapped a denial, I totally agreed with her. Snagging my tank top, I went for a slice of pizza, knowing it would bloat me, but I was hungry. It sucked not to have cafeteria access in the university center, no matter how dicey the teriyaki beef was. Plus it seemed stupid to be ignoring Riley when I could be fighting with him. It was way more fun.

Especially when I had the satisfaction of walking in to the living room right as Riley moved past the coffee table with the pizza box, triggering the automatic room freshener I had bought at the store. He jumped.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked as it misted up along his hip.

“It’s an air freshener. It goes off automatically when there is an odor or motion.”

He looked at me like this was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard in the existence of stupid things. “I hope that wasn’t more than a dollar or you were ripped off.”

“The sun is going down, so do I have permission to open the windows?” I asked, already walking over to do just that. Between a breeze and the mister, maybe the room would smell less like an old ashtray and more just like stale boy.

“No.” Then he grinned when I stopped in my tracks and turned to glare at him. “I’m kidding. Knock yourself out.”

“I’d rather knock you out.”

“Badass.” Riley picked up a piece of pizza and bit off a piece so huge, literally half the slice disappeared in his mouth.

I felt like I instantly gained five pounds on my ass just watching him. So not fair that guys could eat whatever. Hell, Rory could eat whatever she wanted, too, and she never grew tree trunks masquerading as thighs. But I had to fight to stay in shape, with massive amounts of cardio classes and strength training. If you could major in zumba I would because it felt like I spent half my life in the pseudo salsa classes. Sighing, I slid the window open and vowed to only eat one piece of pizza.

There were no plates. Or napkins. Riley was wiping his fingers on his jeans and resting his slice on the closed box. But given the state of the coffee table surface, that was probably the best plan. Dust and cigarette ash probably weren’t good seasonings. Lifting the lid carefully so his piece didn’t slid off onto the floor, I pulled out my own slice and sat down next to him on the couch. The pizza was loaded with everything, including tiny meatballs, and my mouth started watering.

“Thanks for sharing.”

“You’re welcome.” He finished the slice in one more bite and reached for another one. Something about the movement set off the air freshener again to his left. “Christ.” He waved his hand around. “That smells awful.”

“You think the air freshener smells worse than this room did?” I was in awe. In my opinion it already smelled better from the ocean breeze mister and the air blowing in through the open window.

“This thing smells like dead old lady.”

I laughed. “It’s called ocean breeze.”

“No ocean I’ve ever been to smelled like that.”

“How many oceans have you been to?”

He grinned. “None.”

“Have you smelled dead old lady?”

“Probably.”

“No, you haven’t. Or if you have, I’ve leaving because that makes you a serial killer.” Setting my slice of pizza on my knees, I picked a meatball off it and popped it into my mouth. Maybe if I ate slowly, I would fill up and I wouldn’t overeat.

“I’m not a serial killer. But I do go gambling and those old women aren’t even alive, I swear. They’re just propped against the slot machines, abandoned by their families.”

There was an image. “I’ve never been to a casino.”

“They’re both a lot of fun and massively depressing. Full of saps who think their luck is about to change. I don’t believe in luck unless it’s bad luck.”

“You’ve never been lucky? You’ve never won something or had a day where it seems like everything goes right?” I pulled off a mushroom and chewed on it.

Riley gave a laugh. “Look around you, princess. Does it look like anything about my life is lucky? Except for those weeks where if I’m lucky, I can pay all my damn bills.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had a point. He didn’t sound bitter, not really. Just resigned. Tired. “It sucks that Tyler had to drop out of school.”

Tyler had been getting an associate’s degree so he could be an EMT, but then he had been arrested for carrying his mother’s drugs, and he’d had to drop out. Rory had told me that Riley and Tyler had been counting on Tyler having a stable job to bring in money, and now that was gone.

“Yeah.” Riley stared at my knees. “What the hell are you doing? Are you going to eat that or just pick it to death?”

“I’m not really hungry,” I lied.

He shook his head. “I can hear your stomach growling. Are you worried about gaining weight? Christ, you girls drive me crazy.”

“Easy for you to say, but we all know everyone hates on the fat chick.”

“You’re hot. Stop worrying about it.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I nibbled a pepperoni.

“I’m serious. You have a great body.”

I wasn’t sure how to react to that. He didn’t sound at all like he was flirting with me. He sounded more like a best friend, like Kylie or Rory. None of my guy friends ever bothered to reassure me, and my gay friend Devin just flat out told me that I could become a heifer if I wasn’t careful, that it was in my genes. I carried the predisposed heifer DNA strand apparently.

But while I was trying to come up with a snarky response, he leaned over and crammed his pizza in my mouth. “Bite it.”

I started laughing, trying to pull away. I tried to say “Stop it,” but it sounded like “Stpack” because of my giggles and the cheese and dough way farther in my mouth than I would put. Grabbing his wrists, I tried to force a removal, but he was strong, his skin warm, his eyes dancing with laughter.

Finally my options were bite and chew or gag, so I bit and pulled away. As I chewed I said, “You told me once that I have plenty of padding.” It hadn’t necessarily hurt my feelings because I had taken it that he was just being a jerk, but still, I can’t say that I loved hearing it either, even as a joke.

“What?” He looked at me blankly. “When did I say that?”

“When we were sledding. I was afraid to fall off, and you told me not to worry about getting hurt, that I have plenty of padding.”

“I don’t remember that. But if I said it, I’m sure it was a joke. It’s not like I called you fat or anything.” He sounded a little defensive.

But I remembered, and he should know that. “I don’t doubt for a minute you meant it as a joke, but you wonder why I won’t chow down three slices of pizza? It’s because practically every day someone says something to me, and to every girl I know, that is a casual joke or careless comment, and after about a thousand of those it’s in here”—I tapped my head—“whether you want it to be or not. Every magazine, every TV ad, it’s all about skinny and gorgeous, and girls worry they can’t measure up.”

He was silent for a minute, then he tossed the pizza slice I’d bitten on top of the box. “Sorry. Guess I never thought about it that way.”

I shrugged. “It’s a societal disease, what can I say? Girls have the pressure to be a size zero just like you guys constantly get called wimp, pussy, fag, girl, all those awful and offensive names to make you feel weak and inadequate. It’s stupid.”

“You’re right. It is very stupid.” He turned to me. “But just know that when you’re here, you can chow down on three slices of pizza if you want, and I’ll never think you’re anything less than gorgeous. Even if you chew with your mouth open.”

I laughed, appreciating his compliment and the fact that he seemed to get it. “I don’t chew with my mouth open!”

“I never said you did. But you can if you want to.”

It seemed to be an invitation, so I picked up his piece of pizza and took a healthy bite. God, that was good. It was like a rush of forbidden fat, and my taste buds stood up and did a happy dance. I chewed and flashed Riley a healthy mouthful, sticking my tongue out to make sure he got a full view.

“Nice,” he said in approval. “Fuck this eating like a bird shit. You’re hungry, own it. Round it out with a burp and I’ll think you’re basically the perfect woman.”

I hadn’t burped out loud since . . . ever. My mother would have melted in mortification, then managed to piece herself back together just to punish me, usually by donating my favorite outfits to charity. My father would have forced me to scrub the kitchen floor. For some reason, that had been his favorite form of discipline, and it hadn’t escaped my notice as I grew up that it was a subservient position, on my knees.