Page 50 of Calling a Cease-Fire

The reminder that they were a serious thing once upon a time invited that stupid green monster to make another appearance. I pushed the feeling away and focused on what she had said. I wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to do. I was forthcoming about my aversion to commitment and love; at this point, it was his fault if he didn’t listen. Right?

Needing to get us off this topic, I asked her something easier to talk about. “What do you think we should order?”

She raised a brow, but then lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Wings, fries, and mozzarella sticks? And then you pick two things?”

“I love their burgers, so maybe an order of the sliders?” I took a second to think what else I wanted before adding, “Oh, and their jalapeno poppers are pretty good too.”

“Perfect.”

Zack reentered the kitchen with a case of beer cradled in his arm. He didn’t need to ask Savannah what she wanted, it was obvious he already knew. They had history. Lots of it. The two of them probably belonged together, almost making me feel like I was the third wheel. Which was ridiculous for so many reasons. Including the fact we were all just friends. And I didn’t want anything more than that.

“Alright, ladies. What are we getting for dinner?”

I told him what we came up with and his smile widened, an air of troublemaker written all over it.

“And here we go,” Savannah mumbled under her breath.

What the hell was I missing? He told us to decide, and we did. Please tell me he wasn’t about to argue or tease us. I might have to smack him.

“I get to come up with a new one?”

“For the love of God,” Savannah sighed.

“New one?” I asked, not quite sure I was following.

I looked over at Savannah who just shook her head. “He likes to come up with his own names for the food. Mozzarella sticks are fried dairy logs and french fries are spud sticks.”

I smiled as it finally made sense, and also was not the least bit surprising.

“Don’t forget about the mini bison legs,” Zack reminded with another teasing grin.

“Bison legs?” I repeated, trying to connect the dots.

“Instead of buffalo wings?” Savannah offered.

I chuckled. Oh right.

“I think I’ll order the mini moo moo patties first.” Now Zack’s grin had mischief written all over it. “And what did I come up with for the poppers? We haven’t ordered them in a while. Hot lava balls?”

“These places are going to stop taking our orders,” Savannah warned with a smirk that matched Zack’s.

“I doubt that. Between the amount I spend personally and on shift, I probably single-handedly keep them all in business.”

“That is true, and a bit concerning.”

Savannah might have a point. How much carryout did he eat in a week?

“Wait, he does this with other places?” How had I never noticed before?

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “At least he does when I’m around.”

“It depends on who I’m with, honestly.” Zack stared at me, almost like there was a deeper meaning behind his words. “Typically only when I’m with my friends. People I’m comfortable with who appreciate my humor.”

Did that mean that until recently I didn’t appreciate his humor? That he trusted me enough now to be himself?

That made me dangerously happy.

He called in the order, and I totally struggled to not bust out laughing as I listened to him. He must have originally gotten a teenager who was new or something, because after the first two items, Zack paused with a mischievous grin and then seemed to be talking to someone else.