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When the delivery arrives, I'm glad to pay.
I would have insisted on paying either way. I'm glad to have an excuse—means we can skip the argument.
Piper takes the paper bags and sets them on the kitchen island. She pulls out all the containers—must be a dozen containers—and does away with their lids. She looks up at me. "Thanks for dinner."
"You're welcome." I slide into the seat across from hers. It's weird how polite she is. I'm not used to it. "I've never had pho."
"You're a virgin too." Her cheeks flush. "I mean... It's easy." She hands me a pint cup filled with a floral broth. Then she hands me another cup of noodles. "Add the noodles, then the beef-" she points to the thinly sliced, completely raw beef. "The water cooks the meat. Then you add the toppings. I suggest cilantro, Thai basil, lime, and sriracha."
She puts her dish together with the kind of care most people reserve for playing the guitar or making love—not that I'd know about making love. The sex I have is fucking, plain and simple.
I'm more haphazard with my noodles. I only put that kind of care and attention into music. I'm not about to start equating noodles with the bass guitar.
I throw in a little of each topping. I'm about to add some dark sauce when Piper grabs my wrist.
She takes the packet of sauce and places it on the island. "That's hoisin sauce and you can't add it."
"I can't?" I can't help but smile. She's incredibly sincere about this.
"It ruins the flavor. Tastes like chemicals. Here." She opens the packet and squeezes it onto her finger.
Any other woman, I'd shoot her fuck me eyes and suck on her finger until she was panting with desire. But this is Piper. I suck the sauce straight from the packet instead.
"I'm not eating this." She wiggles her finger. "Eat it or get me a napkin."
"Fuck, I can tell you're a Strong. You're almost as bossy as Mal."
"Not even close."
I shouldn't lean in to suck the sauce off her fingertip. I do it anyway. It does taste like chemicals, but under that is her skin, and that tastes fucking good. And the way her eyelids press together as a groan falls off her lips—
I'm going to get myself in trouble here.
She blushes as she pulls her hand back to her side. "Awful, right?"
"Fucking horrible."
She stumbles over her words. "Yeah, so, don't ever let me catch you putting hoisin sauce in your pho."
"Or you'll punish me?"
"Are you into that?"
"No."
"Oh. Then I will. If you were into it, it wouldn't be a punishment." She smiles. "I um... if someone... nevermind. I guess I'd have to try it to say."
God, she's so fucking cute it hurts.
We take our soup to the couch and take turns mocking the next rerun— Friends. It's a popular show, or it was, but I can't say I ever got it. Sex and the City either. Both shows, the whole premise is that this group of people will be there for each other for anything, support each other through anything.
I trust the guys in the band.
They trust me more than I deserve after everything that happened last year.
They are my family.
But it's not at a TV kind of level.
