"Sure," she said. "What do you want to drink?"
"There's some Coke in the fridge. I have some of that sparkling water you brought over the other day too if you want it."
"Sounds good."
It struck Dylan as they sat at the counter with their food and drinks that this was a cozy scene, as though they'd been a couple for years rather than a handful of weeks.
"This is kinda weird," she said, taking a sip of her lime-flavored sparkling water.
"Why?" he asked. Clay took a huge bite of pizza and watched her as she tried to formulate her answer.
"I just moved in with you and we've only been dating a few weeks. That doesn't freak you out?"
He swallowed his bite. "Not really."
She watched him take his second bite and realized over half his slice of pizza was gone. The man could put food away. It was disconcerting.
"Does it freak you out?" he asked around his pizza.
"Yeah, it does," she said.
"Why?"
"Because it's so damn fast," she replied, finally starting on her own pizza.
"It's not permanent," he said.
Ouch, that hurt. Suddenly, her throat closed up and she had to swallow hard to force the bite of pizza down. Dylan took a sip of her sparkling water and stared down at her plate, no longer the least bit hungry.
"Hey," he said, his hand covering hers. "I was trying to make you feel better, not depress you. If it's too fast for you, it's too fast. There's no rule saying we're gonna break up when you move out. If you move out. You may decide you can't live without me and refuse to leave."
He said it with such conviction that it made her smile a little. "You don't think you'd have a problem with that?"
"I don't know. You don't snore, so that's a plus. You claim to be a decent cook and you like to play strip Scrabble. Oh, and you don't make me watch chick flicks. I think I could put up with you."
Dylan laughed. "If those are your only parameters, I'm shocked you aren't married yet."
"That's an easy one," he said. "My mom and sister have scared off any other woman who might even remotely resemble you. So far, you don't seem too scared of them."
"You met Sylvie. Now, imagine four more of her. Her sisters are all Valkyries, and her mom, so when the five of them get together they make your mom and sister look like cuddly little kittens."
Clay's brows rose. "She has four sisters? Damn. Does she have a father or did they devour him during childhood?"
"Yeah, they have a dad," Dylan said, rolling her eyes. "He's a nice guy. Really laid back, but somehow they don't run roughshod over him. They treat him with a lot of respect, too."
"Anyway, back to my point, so far I don't hate having you around," Clay said. "I don't see that changing but, if it does, I'll talk to you about it instead of sulking or ignoring you."
"I don't know," she said. "I've been known to nag people who leave dirty clothes and towels all over the bathroom floor or don't clean up after themselves."
"Then it's a good thing my family trained me well. Remember I mentioned how they would throw things or hit me with them when I made them mad? I've taken dirty socks and wet towels to the face before and survived it. It was a hard lesson, but I learned it."
Dylan laughed. "I don't know how you do it, but you make me laugh even when I'm depressed."
"I'm a funny guy," he said, his tone defensive.
"I don't know. You're mostly just grumpy."
"Yeah, but I'm funny, too." He shot her a glance, trying and failing to look sad. "I'm hurt that you don't think so."
