I grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his head.
He caught it easily, laughing as it dropped into his lap. “It makes sense she would be hot seeing you.”
Did he just say in a roundabout way that I was hot?
My cheeks grew warm. “She had me when she was very young.”
His brows lifted. “Malibu?”
“Don’t start.”
A smirk worked over his lips. “Your mom seems cool.”
That was one way to describe my mom. “She is,” I agreed.
“What about your dad?”
“Never met the guy.”
“He must be a loser to leave you and your mom.”
“Something like that,” I muttered.
We got to work, throwing around more ideas and drinking more gin. About twenty minutes after Mom left, the doorbell rang, and in sync, our heads lifted toward the door. I blinked, slightly confused.
Maddox arched a brow. “Expecting someone?”
“Yeah, you.” I chewed on my lip, annoyed at the interruption. At this rate, we were never going to make any progress onhis project. Had Paisley or Atlas decided to crash? Was it the Amazon driver? They never rang our bell.
“Are you going to check to see who it is?” Maddox asked, staring at me.
I realized I must look like a deer in headlights. “I’ll be right back,” I said, sliding off the bed to go check who it was.
Maddox watched me go, and I glanced at him one last time before I disappeared into the hallway, trotting down the stairs to the first floor. I flipped the locks while glancing out the glass panes, but I didn’t see anyone standing on the porch. Opening the door, the cool evening air rushed in to meet me, wisps of autumn shaking the trees, and a pizza box sat on the porch.
I spotted the delivery guy already halfway to his car parked at the curb with the engine running. “I think you’ve got the wrong house!” I called out, stepping forward onto the porch, bare feet hitting cold wood. “I didn’t order?—”
Footsteps sounded behind me.
Maddox appeared at my side, heat radiating off him. “Pizza. Nice.” He reached past me, his arm brushing my shoulder, and picked up the box before I could stop him.
I caught a glimpse of the delivery guy sliding into the driver’s seat, the dome light illuminating his face for just a second before the door shut. “I didn’t order it,” I muttered.
“No? Huh. Our gain? You can’t turn down free food.” He flipped the box open, checking the order.
“It’s not free if someone else paid for it.”
Maddox went still beside me. “What the fuck?”
I went to peer over the box. “You don’t like?—”
For a split second, I registered the pineapple and thought maybe he didn’t like fruit on his pizza, but then I saw the knife. A small blade, four inches, maybe five, pierced through the center of the pizza, buried to the hilt. It pinned a folded piece of paper to the greasy cheese beneath.
My world narrowed.
Maddox pulled the knife free, cheese and paper coming with it. He dropped the knife into the box and reached for the note, unfolding it. The muscle along his jaw feathered as he read. The tension radiating through his shoulders and down his spine intensified to every part of him, cued for violence.
“What does it say?” I whispered, my fingers twining together as I waited.
