“Homemade pizza?” Will comes closer, inspecting everything.
“Jenny, think you can wash the mushrooms for me?”
“Sure thing.”
“Why not just order it?”
I shrug. “I like to cook.”
“Wait, you’re the chick who made all the taco shit the guys were going on about?”
“First, I’m not a chick. Second, yes, I made tacos for everybody a few weeks ago.”
“Sorry.” He smiles impishly, hoping for forgiveness. I bet he thinks all that perfectly styled brown hair and matching brown eyes combined with the status of QB2 will let him get by with anything. Been there, done that, not doing it again.
“Why don’t you invite Hutch over to test out the pizza?” Jenny suggests. I’m not sure if she senses my unease or if it’s her attempt at matchmaking. Nope, definitely the latter. She’s a born matchmaker.
Will frowns. “The hockey player?”
“Yup.” Jenny smiles at him. “This is the sports house after all. Lots of the boyfriends are from different sports teams.”
“Huh. I thought it was a football house.”
Jenny snorts. “My boyfriend is on the hockey team.”
“Cool.” He sits down at the island. “You got a thing for Hutch?”
“No.”
“Then why are you trying out different recipes just for him?”
“I guess you don’t want a slice.”
“Don’t you dare threaten to take away my pizza.”
“Then don’t go around claiming things that aren’t true.”
“Then you don’t have a thing for him?”
“What’s it to you?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intended for it to be.
He holds his hands up. “Just curious.”
“Why don’t you go watch TV or something?”
“Sure.” He slides off the chair and goes into the living room, looking like a kid whose puppy just got kicked.
Dammit.
Jenny’s eyebrows are raised and I shake my head.
“Will, I’m sorry. I’m in a bad mood and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“All cool.” He waves it away and plops down on the couch, reaching for the remote. “Just give me a slice of pizza and all is forgiven.”
“So, about Hutch…”
“I’m not texting him.”
