Page 86 of Make Me Laugh

Comment: This isn’t funny anymore just kiss already!!!!

Comment: Day 29817 asking for Hex and West to actually post something together and not just tease us with these vague ass posts

The smell of pizza fills the hotel room, box wide open on the middle of the king-size bed.

I’m sitting legs crisscrossed in the middle after changing into a pair of sweats and an oversized T-shirt from a small town Michigan restaurant Frankie and I stopped at on our road trip to Chicago last summer.

A seagull holds a piece of pizza in its beak, a watercolor sunset fading into the edges of the shirt’s purple color.

I still think about their frozen schooners of beer.

West kicks his shoes off and plops down on the edge of the bed, tossing me a couple napkins and packs of red pepper flakes and parmesan. “Load it up.”

We got a classic cheese pizza, upon my request. I will never accept any slander for just a cheese pizza. It’s all you need if the pie’s any good!

Sprinkling the whole thing with the four packs we were given, I dive in, wiggling with happiness. “Mmm,” I moan, rolling my eyes to the back of my head. “New York has the superior pizza, hands down.”

West swallows. I scold myself for watching his throat bob. “Mm, no.”

I slap the bed with my free hand. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re about to say Chicago has better pizza!”

He licks his lips and fingers after finishing his first slice.

I’m not looking. I’m. Not. Looking!

I’m definitely looking, but it’s hard not to after the night we had! It was fun… Simple as that. West and I always find a way to have a good time together. He somehow makes the anxieties of this new and unpredictable experience seem more manageable than what they’d be if I were in this alone.

“Absolutely it does. Deep dish with extra cheese?” He pretends to melt onto the bed and then sits up, reaching for another piece.

I gently slap his hand. “You can’t insult her like that and go back for more,” I joke, giving him the most serious glare I can muster.

It used to be a lot easier, but when he’s giving me that cute little dimpled smile, it makes me want to pull my phone out and add one more exclamation point to my daily reminder.

“You want me to apologize?” he asks, a single brow creeping slowly up his forehead.

Oh no, I think. “Yes,” I say.

West sighs, and I immediately regret what I’ve set in motion. He slides to the floor, on his knees beside the bed, and my thoughts go to a place they shouldn’t. “Please, baby. Please forgive me, I’ll never⁠—”

Is he talking to me or the pizza?

“You always take it too far. Get up.” I try to act chill and fun, but my brain is programmed to like this shit. These are the scenes you read about—the ones you wish happened in real life but never do.

It’s over a stupid pizza debate, but nonetheless, if West fucking Isakson was on his knees in front of anyone else, they’d crumble too!

“You said to apologize.” He looks up at me with his big blue eyes, really painting on the sad puppy dog look.

I scramble to the edge of the bed. “Get up, right now.” Touching West is a mistake, but it’s too late, because my hands are already on his glorious biceps, trying to tug him back onto the bed.

The bed I’m on…

We both freeze, and I know I need to let go of his arm. I know I need to back up. I know I need to relax.

But I can’t do any of that.

West is still on his knees, just like he’d been on stage. It’s only this time, I’m actually over him, peering down from a bed. The one he definitely doesn’t need to crawl back on with me…

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come to mind. I roll my lips together, my brain moving a million miles a second—similar to how quickly my heart’s beating. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.