She raises her eyebrow in question. “Nacho cheese? I don’t think we have any chips.”
“I don’t want chips,” I tell her.
“Then what the hell do you need nacho cheese for?” She steps further into the room, her arms crossed over her chest, pushing her boobs further out of her tank top. My eyes linger there longer than I intend, and she clears her throat. “Well?”
“Umm. It’s for the popcorn. I like to dip the kernels in it.” She makes a disgusted look with her face and I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t knock it until you try it. It’s delicious.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Five minutes. Living room,” she orders, before turning and leaving.
Taking hold of my pillow, I put it over my face, muffling my scream while I kick my legs. To be fair, it was more of a grunt than a scream, because I didn’t want Roxy to hear me. If someone were to have been watching me, it would look more like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
Sitting up, I throw my feet off the bed, letting my toes sink into the soft carpet. It’s amazing. I never knew how bad I hated tiled or wooden floors until moving here. Not having your feet freeze off stepping onto the floor every morning is amazing.
Pajamas…Do I even have any clean ones? Laundry is on my list to do tomorrow. I step over to my dresser and pull open my drawer, sifting through my underwear. No pajamas. Not of mine, anyway. I do have a pair of Ezra’s boxers and I could put on a tank top, I guess. Close enough.
I slip off my jeans and underwear. Lifting the boxers to my nose, I inhale deeply. They still smell like him. I’ve not had the heart to wash them since he left them at my house. It felt too much like I was washing him away, and I wanted to hold on to him just a little longer.
Holding them out, I place a leg through each of the holes and pull them up my legs. I pull the shirt over my head and toss it into the basket along with my bra. Once I have the tank top on, I check my phone again. My last message to Ezra remains unread.
Guess it’s really over.
Roxy’s standing at the microwave, her back to me as she sways her hips, singingBad Guyby Billie Eilish. Her voice is amazing. So much better than mine. Why she isn’t trying to be a singer is beyond me.
My eyes focus on her ass, barely covered by the skimpy shorts she has on. She sways her hips back and forth, and I can’t help but follow her movements. Roxy is intoxicating, and I want to be drunk on her. Being in her presence, it’s hard not to feel affected.
The microwave goes off and she opens the door, pulling out the bag of popcorn. She turns around and screams, nearly dropping the bag to the floor.
“Fuck, you scared me,” she blurts. “You’re lucky I like you or I’d be dumping the nacho cheese I found in the trash.” She givesme a look that tells me she means business before she cracks a smile.
We both double over in laughter.
“You’re such a bitch.”
“Yeah, but you love me.” She picks up the container of cheese and bumps her hip into me as she passes by. “Grab some sodas.”
She looks back at me, tossing a wink my way before she disappears into the other room. I step over to the fridge and pull out two cans of Pepsi and follow behind her.
Roxy sits on the couch, her legs curled up on the cushion with a blanket over her. She picks up a kernel and pops it in her mouth as I move over and sit down beside her, mimicking her position so that we’re facing each other, but neither of us is breaking our necks to look at the television.
I pick up a kernel and dip it into the nacho cheese before popping it into my mouth. I let out a moan as the buttery-cheese mixture hits my tongue.
“Damn, if I knew it would make you sound like that, I would’ve given it to you sooner.”
“I didn’t know about movie night until tonight, and it’s that good,” I tell her cheekily.
“True.” She pauses for a second. “Screw it, let me try.” With that, she picks up a kernel, dips it daintily in the cheese and pops it in her mouth. Roxy makes a face at first and chews it, her expression changing from disdain to love. “Fucking hell, that’s good.”
“Told you,” I tell her smugly.
“Fine, next time I’ll believe you. Now let’s watch some Ghostface.” She picks up the remote, clicks the button, and the movie starts.
We both settle in as the opening scene begins. I can’t help but enjoy now how pretty Drew Barrymore actually is. Or how stupid her character is in the movie. She deserved to get killed.
My hand reaches into the bag at the same time as Roxy, our fingers sliding against each other, and we both freeze. Her breath hitches, and I can’t help but feel a rush of excitement from the sudden touch.
“Oops.” It’s all I can think of to say.
She doesn’t say anything, just pulls out a handful of popcorn and goes back to watching the movie.Odd.
