“Hey!” Jenny pops through the doorway carrying two plates. “Thought I’d bring you guys a piece of this cheesecake before Dylan and Collin devour it all. People are starting to arrive for the party too, so I’ll close the door on my way out.”
She’s being such a little shitter. But I do hate the noise from the parties and I don’t trust some of the drunks to not try and make their way upstairs either. As much as everyone tries to keep people out of my space, they can’t watch the door up to the attic every second, especially during a loud party with a house full of people.
“Thanks.” Hutch puts his paper plate on the bed and takes the new ones from Jenny. She hands over two forks, winks, and leaves us alone, firmly closing the door behind her.
Shitter.
“Well, go ahead and try it.”
“It smells so good.” He doesn’t waste another word and instead shovels a large forkful into his mouth. He groans out load. “This shit is good. Sure you don’t want to be a chef?”
“Nah, I’m all good.” I taste it myself and he’s right. It’s good. I think I need to bake it just a little longer next time. It’s not quite as wobbly as it should be. It’s at least set though.
He polishes off his large piece and then eyeballs mine. I’m full so I hand it over. I filled up on pizza. Nice, regular pizza full of yummy fatty glutton goodness. I’m a food whore. I admit it freely. While I might not have made the pizza, it’s still good pizza.
He throws our plates in the small trash can I have sitting beside the desk and then plops back down on the foot of the bed, turning to stare at me. He has such open, friendly eyes. They’re gorgeous really, but it’s the simple gutlessness that draws me in. So unlike Joseph.
“So, Miss Daisy, whatcha got planned for tonight?”
“Uh, probably studying and catching up on my reading for the week.”
“Are you working tomorrow?”
“No, why?”
“Will you come to my game?”
“I don’t know…”
“Please?”
Damn those guileless eyes of his.
“It’s cold.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Why is it so hard to tell him no?
“I’ll even loan you my sherpa wool hoodie to wrap up in. Warmest thing you’ll ever find. Mom gave it to me for my birthday last year. It’s my most prized possession.”
“A hoodie is your most prized possession?”
He nods. “Sure is.”
“Is it the same one you gave me before?”
“No. That one had sherpa wool, but it was a lighter lining than my favorite one.”
Any warmth is better than no warmth.
“So, will you come? I’ll drop tickets off for you and Christa and whoever else wants to go. Jenny will be there.”
I know Jenny will be there. She’s been dropping hints that I should go all week.
“If I get sick again, I’m never coming to another one.”
“Deal.”
