He hissed in response and pulled away. “Stop that.”
I closed the distance between us again, meeting his gaze. “Your cock seems to like it.”
He pushed me back again. “You’re drunk, Ari.”
“So?” I lifted my chin and kissed his collarbone, right above his T-shirt.
“Goddammit, stop that!” He pushed me away again, and I lost my footing, swaying. “Fuck!” He pulled me close again. “When’s the last time you ate something?”
I shrugged, unable to remember. “Yesterday-ish?”
Shifting me in his arms, he tugged his phone out of his pocket and made a call. “What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked.
“I don’t do pizza. Too many carbs.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” His gaze drifted back down my body. “You’re too skinny. You could use some carbs.”
Well that was sweet, but if I had any hopes of singing professionally, I needed to stay skinny. Nobody wanted to hire a fat singer. I tried to tell him as much, but he ignored my protests and spoke into the phone, placing an order. My mind tuned out his words to pay closer attention to his body. I snaked an arm around his waist, marveling at the definition I could feel in his lower back.
He hung up, pocketed his phone, and then tugged up my pants and zipped them closed. Then, keeping one hand at my back and settling the other behind my knees, he picked me up. Carrying me out to the living room, he deposited me on my ratty old sofa before heading into the kitchen and going through my cupboards. Then he dug through the few remaining boxes sitting on the bar.
Wondering what he was looking for, I said, “The wine’s in the fridge.”
“You’re not having any more wine,” he snapped. “You need coffee. Where is it? Didn’t you grab any food from your old apartment?”
“No. I did grab the coffee pot, though.”
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He went out the door shutting it behind him.
I considered crawling into the kitchen for the other bottle of Boones Farm, but before the idea had time to take root, he was back and making more noise in my kitchen. The smell of coffee filled my apartment, and moments later he brought me a cup. Thanking him, I took a sip. It was way too good.
“Did you put sugar in this?”
“Yes. Drink it. You need it.”
Damn, he was bossy. I wanted to object, but the coffee was tasty, and I couldn’t put it down. Taking another sip, I leaned back and closed my eyes. As I finished the cup, pizza arrived. Bones brought it to the coffee table and opened both boxes.
“Plates?” he asked.
I shrugged. “They might be in a box somewhere.”
“Fuck it. Eat.”
Again with the bossiness. Still, the smell was making my mouth water. Whenwasthe last time I ate? I honestly couldn’t remember. Over the past several days, I’d been so worried about Markie I hadn’t wanted to leave her side. Then, while she was recovering enough to come home, I was busy packing and moving. My life had turned upside down, and eating seemed like one more unnecessary, expensive complication I didn’t have the time or money for.
When I didn’t immediately grab a slice of pizza, Bones placed one in my hands. It was loaded with all kinds of toppings I wasn’t sure that I’d like, but I took a bite anyway. All the delicious carbs danced over my taste buds, and before I knew it, I’d scarfed down the entire slice.
“Have another,” Bones said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to get sick.”
He eyed me for a moment before nodding. “When do you work next?”
“When I find a job.”
His brow furrowed. “What about the restaurant at the Pelican?”
“They fired me for missing work while Markie was in the hospital.”
