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“And the truth comes out,” Tripp remarked. “It wasn’t the kitchen he was trying to protect; it was that bag of popcorn he’s clutching.”
“Do you two need to be alone?” James asked.
“I don’t have enough fingers for how many times I’d like to flip you off right now,” Damien muttered.
“Let us help you,” Zakk replied, all of them flipping him off in a hilarious display of sideways, diagonal, and upside-down middle fingers.”
With that out of the way, they settled in to watch the movie. Mutated walking, talking food drew laughter from all of them, but just as Damien predicted, about halfway through the movie, Riley slid off the couch and hurried to the kitchen, returning with two bowls of mandarin oranges and passing one to Dez.
“Thanks,” Dez murmured, peppering kisses along Riley’s neck and shoulder before digging into their snack. Well that answered that. Seeing the dopey grin on Riley’s face, Zakk could only be happy for his friend.
“Yeah, I don’t plan to display anything close to that level of restraint,” Tripp said, displacing Zakk who’d been leaning heavily against his shoulder. Grumbling, Zakk glanced up at him.
“Since you made me move, the least you can do is grab me a sandwich or something.”
“I got you.”
Tripp walking away meant Zakk could stare at his ass until he rounded the corner, which was a lovely treat as far as he was concerned. An explosion of color on the television screen finally drew his attention away from the empty hall, and he shook his head at the unfortunate character who’d accidentally wound up celebrating even when they hadn’t won anything. He was quickly sucked back into the film, so much so that he lost track of time a little, until Tripp set a platter of food down on the coffee table in front of him.
“When you say or something, I never know what the hell to bring, so I said fuck it and brought a little bit of everything so I wouldn’t get sent back for whatever it was you thought I’d forgot,” Tripp replied as he slid back into the seat beside him.
“And yet, I don’t see any whipped cream on that tray.”
Zakk had a hard time holding in his laughter at the expression that crept across Tripp’s face.
“Was there supposed to be?” Tripp asked, half coming out of his seat like he was going to go back to the kitchen after it.
“What else am I supposed to put on the olives?”
Several gagging sounds followed that statement. Riley let the spoon full of orange slices he’d shoved in his mouth splatter back into the bowl, while Tripp looked like he was about to turn green. Still, he recomposed himself quickly.
“I don’t think I saw any.” Tripp said.
“That’s ‘cause it’s in Riley’s room,” Dez pointed out.
“In that case, you two can keep it!” Zakk declared, laughing and tugging Tripp back down beside him. “I was only kidding anyway. This is awesome, thanks.”
“Please tell me you would never seriously consider putting whipped cream on olives,” Tripp muttered.
When Dez snorted, Zakk knew Tripp was about to get an earful about Riley’s adventurous spirit when it came to food.
“You are literally talking about a guy who wrapped a fruit roll up around a pickle, sprinkled some seasoning on the damn thing and ate it, just because it was something he saw on TikTok,” Dez pointed out. “Not only does he put whipped cream on olives, if you aren’t careful ordering pizza around him, you’re liable to wind up with fish on your food.”
“Oh hell no!” Tripp declared. “Anchovy smell gets everywhere.”
Tripp gave him the most serious look he’d ever fixed him with. “Read my lips, cause I’m dead serious when I say this. If you want anchovies, you make sure you order them from a whole other pizza parlor than I do and tell them not to walk up the stairs at the same time.”
“A bit extreme, ain’t it?”
“Dude….I will eat one of your whipped cream coated olives before I touch one of those anchovies.”
“Okay, seriously, we need another can of whipped cream!” James declared, egging things on. Even Lady Luna Lily looked interested in seeing how things unfolded, ‘cause she turned around on James’s shoulder and stared at them with gleaming kitty cat eyes.
Zakk watched as Dez nudged Riley. “Didn’t you shove a second can behind the lettuce so no one else would find it?”
“Oh shit, I forgot about that,” Riley said, jumping up off the couch and rushing to the kitchen. He returned less than half a minute later with the can and a jar of maraschino cherries.
Snickering, Zakk leaned forward, speared an olive, then held out his hand for the whipped cream.
