Page 17 of Inseparable


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Crap. Crappy crap crap.

“Sick, huh?” His eyes danced as they took in the twenty in my hand. My mouth dropped open as I tried to think of an acceptable excuse. “Hey, your cast is off!” He exclaimed. My eyes went down to my white pasty foot. Shit. Did I mention crap?

Dane peered at it closely, actually kneeling down to get a better look. His lip curled up ever so slightly, “It looks really gnarly,” He commented, “Smells pretty bad too. Maybe you need to wash it, or something?” He suggested. The worst thing was there was no sarcasm or humor in his voice, just Dane trying to be helpful.

“Gee thanks,” I snapped, unable to help myself. Of all the things to say to a girl, and one you supposedly like! “Why didn’t I think of washing it?” I retorted, a nasty edge to my voice. Dane looked at me, surprised at my tone. Then he laughed.

“Is this why you cancelled our date? Because of your foot?” He started to laugh harder, until he was doubled over, hands on his knees. I wanted to kick him over onto the stained wet floorboards, and then slam the door shut on his stupid little face. Then we’d see who was laughing.

“You said yourself it’s gnarly,” I snapped, reaching out and pushing him away from the door. “Stop laughing at me,” I demanded, as I tried to close the door, putting all my weight against it, but he was nearly twice my size and way too strong for me.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop laughing. I promise,” He looked at me solemnly, his eyes showing the only trace of amusement in his whole face, as he held his hands up, scout’s honor.

“Fine,” I grumbled, “Come in. but you’re paying for the pizza.” He followed me inside, into the living room. I sat back down in my spot, complete with blanket, magazines, tissues, pillows, and a nail file. Dane shook his head, hiding a smile behind his hand by pretending to rub his chin.

“What?” I growled, daring him to say something.

“I didn’t say anything,” He protested. The doorbell rang. Rolling his eyes, he pulled out his wallet and went to get the pizza.

“Hope you like anchovies! And olives!” I called after him. He came back a few minutes later, chuckling.

“You’re very strange, Lily,” He handed me the pizza, “Anchovies and olives? I mean, one or the other is bad enough, but both?” He made a face, and I took a strange satisfaction in him not liking my choice of pizza topping. That was fine by me; I was more than happy to have the whole pizza to myself.

“Double anchovies, too,” I said, my mouth full of pizza, just in case he wasn’t turned off enough.

“Do you want a drink?” He called out, heading into the kitchen as if he owned the place.

“Sure,” I called out, “And help yourself,” I added, rolling my eyes at his boldness. He came back with two cans of coke, throwing one of the cans on the sofa next to me. I rested it on the table, not game enough to open it, just in case he’d shaken it, because that’s something I would do.

“So now you’ve cancelled our date, I guess I’m picking the movie,” He walked over to Kella’s DVD cabinet. For a hard ass lesbian turned straight chick with anger issues, Kella sure loved her soppy romantic movies.

“Is this all you have?” Dane screwed up his face as he read through the selections, “Gone with the wind, Sleepless in Seattle, True Love, Pretty Woman…” He looked at me, horrified.

“Don’t blame me. They’re Kella’s,” I jumped to my feet, heading for my room, fully aware he was following me. I fished through one of the boxes in the corner of my room that I was yet to unpack as he stood in the doorway, watching me. After a moment he wandered in, looking at the few photos I had on my dressing table, me vaguely aware of the pile of underwear sitting on the bed I’d yet to put away.

“You and Abby,” He murmured, gazing at the picture. Not that it was that hard to work out. She was the only identical twin I had. “You two look identical,” He said softly.

“Yeah,” I replied. Hadn’t I mentioned that? I wasn’t sure what difference it really made in the whole scheme of things.

“Okay, so we have Die Hard, or Under Siege,” I handed Dane the movies. I had more, but truthfully I needed him out of my room. He was hard enough to resist in the car, but put me in a setting with a bed and Dane, and I couldn’t promise things wouldn’t happen.

“Hmmm. Tough choice. Die Hard,” He answered, throwing Under Siege back on the bed. “You’re still limping,” He commented,

as he followed me back into the living room. I wondered if he had checked out my ass. I blushed as I recalled how we’d met.

“Yeah. Doctor said it might take me a few days to get my strength back in the foot, but it’s so good to be out of that plaster,” I grinned, glancing down at my foot. While in the bedroom, I’d thrown on a pair of socks in an attempt to hide my foot. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“So, tell me more about you,” He raised his eyebrows as he reached for a slice of pizza, picking off the olives and anchovies. What was left was a limp slice of cheese pizza. I reached over and gathered up his scraps, piling them on top of my slice. He stared at me in disbelief as I took a big bite.

Me? Shit. It had been that long since anyone had asked about me, I had to think for a moment.

“That’s a tough question. What do you want to know?” The flavors exploded in my mouth. Mmm. So good! This beat the ass off frozen pizza.

“You’re not good at talking about yourself,” He laughed. I gave him a look. And he was?

“Neither are you,” I shot back, “Okay. Something about me. Well, I love fishing, basketball. I’m a bit of a tomboy. The son my parents never had,” I giggled, “And I love my food, but I can’t cook. My skill lies solely in eating,” I added.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m a pretty awesome cook, then,” He responded, cocking his eyebrow. I laughed.

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