"No."
He puts his arm around my shoulders, and I hug his waist for support as we walk to his car. He hits the key fob, and a black corvette roars to life.
He opens the door for me and helps me inside, then trots around the front. The headlights illuminate his massive tree trunk legs and big powerful ass.
"I can't believe you chased after them," I ask him when he slides behind the wheel.
He smirks and nods at my phone. "Order the pizza. We'll pick it up on the way."
I stare at him, confused. "How come you are calm?"
"The danger is over." He chuckles as he backs out of the parking spot. "Do you have beer at your place?"
I stare at him as he puts the car in drive and eases along the exit route. Finally, I answer, "Yes, I have beer at my place."
Then I dial the pizza parlor. "Hey, Randy, it's Zella. Oh, thank you. Yeah, I was shocked. He took me completely by surprise. No, I didn't know he was going to be there. Listen, we're starving. Can I get two pizzas to go? Okay, we'll be waiting. Thanks."
I hang up the phone and look at d'Artagnan's smirk. "He's going to have them sent over."
"Excellent."
When we enter the parking lot, I guide him around back to park in my reserved spot. He turns the car off and says, "I'll wait for the pizza. You go on up."
"Okay. Fourth floor, number…."
"Twenty-three," he says with me. "Got it."
Chapter 18
d’Artagnan
Watching Rapunzel's hot pink perfection walk away, I wonder if I've put her in danger. I tried to catch the car to see who was driving, but it sped off too fast, and the windows were tinted. It was more than likely a random drunk driver texting, but just in case, I need to keep my head on a swivel. I don't trust Tiara for a single second. Although she acted upset because the engagement was a 'publicity hoax,' I'm positive once she realizes the wedding date will fall before my thirtieth birthday, she will wage war against us.
I open the trunk and remove my duffle bag, and close it just as a car with a pizza delivery sign stuck on top pulls up and spools his window down.
"Are you Zella's boyfriend?" He asks.
"I'm her fiancé." I clarify, grinning at him, loving how that sounds as I reach in my pocket for the money to pay him.
"Congrats," he smiles, "and thank you for your service, sir."
I nod an acknowledgment, then ask as I hand over the cash for the food plus a hefty tip. "How long have you been delivering to my girl?"
"Long enough to know you are a lucky son of a bitch, sir." He hands the boxes of pizza to me. "She's a very nice girl." Then he puts the car in drive, and I step back as he pulls away.
I reach down, hook my duffle bag on my shoulder, and agree, "You got that right, pizza delivery boy. I am indeed lucky."
Zella
As soon as I’m out of sight, I run. My place is an absolute mess. I never have company. Once I’m inside, the mad rush around the room begins. Grabbing everything out of place to either stuff it in the closet or throwing it in the trash.
I straighten the sheets, fling the comforter over it, and fluff my pillow. Then I rush to the bathroom, pick up my clothes off the floor, and put my makeup bag away. The last thing I do is put my dirty dishes in the sink. Then I survey my place, wiping my wet hands on a towel.
Although I don’t have a couch, it’s not that I don’t have the space. It’s that I didn’t want one. Living alone and not entertaining, I just didn’t see the need. Instead of a couch, my furniture is a bean bag lounger, a hanging basket chair, and an overstuffed comfy recliner. All of which are necessities to a book nerd.
I set up a small exercise area with a yoga mat and a treadmill by the window. Off the kitchen is my dinette table, but it isn’t used for dining. It’s my desk, and my MacBook Pro sits open ready to finish my latest project.
I go back into the kitchen, place two plates on the island bar with a hot pad for the pizza box, then open the refrigerator to get two beers. I put one in the freezer to chill for d’Artagnan and twist the top off the other one. Sitting down on the barstool, I take a long draw. What a day!
