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“But it’s exciting.”
“It is, but I don’t want to wake up and see my ass plastered on the internet.”
“For the record, if they see any ass right now, it’s mine.”
Max laughs softly, a sound that sparks a strange flicker in my chest. I ignore it for now, but I’m gonna revisit that unfamiliar emotion later.
* * *
“The Doors of Durin— Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.”
Max drops the piece of biscuit she’s holding and goes completely still. “What’s that?”
I get up from the couch and kiss the tip of her nose. “Just the doorbell. Delivery’s here.”
After taking a shower together, we found ourselves hungry. We didn’t have anything to cook, so we decided to order Thai food and watch a crappy reality show while we waited.
Max waits behind me while I pay the delivery guy.
“Who’s that speaking in your doorbell?”
“Gandalf.”
“Why?”
“It was that or Chewbacca.”
“Oh my God.”
“Come on. He’s the greatest wizard of all time. Of course?—”
“No, he’s not. Dumbledore is.”
I rear back as if she just hit me. “You did not just say that.”
“He is.”
I pull out the boxes and point the disposable fork at her. “You mean to tell me, the old guy who basically left a teenage kid to fight against the great evil?”
“Harry Potter was anything but an ordinary teenage kid.”
“My point remains. No one disrespects Gandalf in this household.”
Peering at her from under my lashes, I mumble, “And here I thought you were perfect.”
Max laughs and smacks my arm before sitting down and shoving a forkful of Pad Thai into her mouth. She closes her eyes and moans.
Just like that, my body comes alive.
“Please stop doing that. I’m actually hungry. If you make any more of those sounds, I’m gonna end up with an empty stomach and emptier balls.”
“Mika!” She widens her eyes at me in mock outrage.
I raise my hands in surrender. “Just being honest!”
We stay quiet for a few minutes, just busy eating and sharing meals good enough for four people. After inhaling all the food, we set aside the mostly empty boxes and start with dessert—mango sticky rice.
“That your favorite band?” I point to her oversized, well-worn t-shirt—the only thing she’s wearing aside from a pair of panties. It’s similar to the one she wore the night she knocked on my door.
