All he sent back was an emoji with one eyebrow raised. The texting ellipses started flowing, so I cut him off.
The doorbell rang.
I tucked my phone away and opened the door.
Sal craned his neck at the bulletproof glass around the door and security cameras. “Hey. This house is tricked all the way out, and you didn’t even have to craft it.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. It was nicer than what we built Janice?
My cheeks tensed in a thin smile. “Need some help with that?” I took the top boxes from him, the warmth seeping through the cardboard.
“Thanks. I know you’re probably thinking this is overkill, but I’m telling you, whatever we don’t eat now, we can demolish over the weekend,” he said, following me inside. “Pizza is the ultimate reheat-friendly food.”
“Sounds healthy.” I snorted, placing the boxes on the coffee table. Were we going to normalize eating our feelings? “To be fair, it is tasty. This is the second time I’ve had pizza this week. It smells amazing.”
“No kidding. You still got some? We can add it to the spread.” He wobbled, removing his shoes while balancing the remaining pizza.
I threw my head back in a laugh. Maybe my brother was right. He was a bad influence.
Sal stood in the entryway, staring at me with an odd expression on his face.
“What?” I reached for my cap, which wasn’t there, of course, so I scratched my scalp instead. Was it my house? My hair? A hangover still in full swing?
He shrugged and smiled at the floor. “Thanks for doing this,” he said.
I waved him off. “It’s nothing.” So far. “Thanks for bringing the pizza. It’s been a while since I’ve hosted anyone. Shall we eat or play games first?”
“Eat while it’s warm.” He hurried to the couch, almost slipping on the hardwood with his eager, socked scamper. “Are you watching anything good lately?”
“Yes.” I furrowed my brow.
“Put it on.” He gestured.
“It’s sci-fi,” I hedged.
“It’s perfect,” he said, flipping open the box. Steam erupted, releasing the aroma of grease, blended cheese, and meat.
My mouth watered. Okay. Even if I didn’t plan to watch something together, eating would be a good thing.
“You got a special seat, or can I park anywhere?” he asked, twisting his butt a few feet over the cushions as if scanning them for heat.
“Corner’s mine.” I put on my second-favorite rerun show and settled in with a huge slice of pizza.
“Space spies. Sounds cool,” he said, bending over a giant paper towel to eat. He watched with rapture, lips smacking.
An officer in a tight purple uniform marched up to the ship’s control panel, her hair twisted and pinned away from her face, which made sense, in space.
He’d be intrigued for other reasons, though. Her uniform, while full-coverage, hugged every curve.
“Do we like her?” he whispered.
