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“As if,” she retorted, responding to the thrill of arguing with him. “Like you’re all pure and innocent. I swear, how do you walk around with that thing?”
He laughed. “You do know how to make a man feel good.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.” So he had a huge cock. Whatever.
“That’s why you were all hot and needy, ’cause it was so awful. I get it.”
“You are so full of yourself.”
He inched forward. He leaned down, and she could almost feel his lips on hers. He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
She was going to punch him in the face. But instead she said calmly, “Good. We’ve got that cleared up. By the way, does Revival have delivery?”
He chuckled. “No.”
She looked at him in horror. “What am I supposed to eat?”
“There’s a grocery store, you could try that.”
She huffed. “You want me to go to the grocery store? On a Sunday night ... and cook?”
He nodded. “It’s an option.”
“God, this town is the worst.” She huffed and stomped away to the sound of his laughter following her all the way in.
* * *
Two hours later, after she’d showered and put on her most comfortable gray cotton shorts and a red tank top, she stared at her empty refrigerator and cursed Revival. She hadn’t even thought about food. Why would she? In Chicago if she wanted to eat and she didn’t have anything at home she just ordered takeout, regardless of the time.
She supposed she could do the unthinkable and run to the grocery store as Ryder suggested, but that would require at least putting on a bra, and how horrible did that sound? She sighed and closed her fridge. If she wanted to eat, that’s what she needed to do.
She glanced at the counter. Ajar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread sat there. Well, her options were clear—peanut butter and the couch, or a bra and the grocery store.
It wasn’t really a contest.
She opened her silverware drawer and pulled out a knife, grabbed a paper plate, and returned to her meager dinner. She untied the loaf of bread when the doorbell rang.
There were only two people it could be—Maddie or Ryder—and since her best friend assumed she was already with Ryder and not to be disturbed, it could only be him.
She put down the knife, affixed a feigned indignant expression on her face, and went to the door.
He stood there, wearing gray cargo shorts and a white T-shirt and holding a bag.
She leaned against the door frame and eyed the brown sack. “What’s that?”
He held it out, giving her that wicked grin. “Takeout.”
Her pretend indignation fell away and she squealed in excitement and clapped. “You’re a god among men.”
He laughed and pushed toward her. “I hear that all the time.”
How could she resist a man that brought food? She was only a mere mortal.
“Stop bragging.” She snatched the bag and stood aside as he entered the house.
He peered at her newly decorated living room and shook his head. “You’re such a girl.”
She’d decided on distressed white cottage-type furniture accented with light blues and deep grays. She laughed. “Isn’t it awesome?”
