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Amara snickered, listening to Tyler run his mouth to Seggy as she straightened up what she imagined it’d have looked like if a pack of ravenous wolves had raided her kitchen. “Fucking hockey players,” she muttered, as 20 minutes after a metric shit ton of food had arrived, there was literally nothing left. “How the hell did they rip through all this food already?”
Thankfully, she’d caught Jake before he left.
A: Can you bring 8 pizzas? I'll explain later
J: Seriously?
J: You're lucky you're hot.
As Amara poured herself a glass of wine, taking a quick break, Ryan wandered into the kitchen.
“Hey, stud. How you feelin’?” she asked cautiously.
He stared at her blankly, his eyes barely opened, then busted out giggling. “I can’t…I can’t feel my arms!”
“Jesus, Ry. Well, look,” she said, grabbing one and shaking it, then the other. “They’re both right here. Why the hell would you…never mind. Because you’re an idiot. That’s why.”
“Are you mad at me?” he whined, throwing his arms around her and leaning on her, damn near knocking her over. “It’s my birthday. You can’t be mad at me on my birthday.”
“Tyler!” she yelled. “Come get your sloppy boyfriend before I knock him out!”
“Play for me, sweetie,” he said, tossing the X-box controller to the chick Osi had brought.
“Wait, I have no idea what I’m doing!” she laughed.
“Figure it out!” he called back to her as he rounded the corner to find Ryan slumping over onto Amara. “Yup. He’s fucked up.”
“Yeah, no shit. And you?”
“Please, babe. It’s gonna take more than half an edible to take me down.”
“I’m not fucked up. I just can’t feel my arms.”
“Yeah, that’d be fucked up, Rook,” Tyler said, pulling him off Amara and getting him over to one of the stools at the counter.
Just then, she heard a knock at the door, and she shot them both a death glare, pointing at them. “I watch nothing but murder shows. If you screw this up, I swear to everything holy, no one will ever find either of you. You understand me?”
She opened the door, and there stood who she assumed was Jake, unable to see his face behind the mountain of pizza boxes he was holding. “Can you help me please? My arms are literally on fire.”
She grabbed five of them, holding the door open with her foot for him as he walked into the kitchen and set them down on the stovetop. She set hers down on the counter and turned towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning in for a quick kiss. “Thank you. You know, I, uh, don’t have any money though,” she teased, dragging a hand down the front of her chest slowly and licking her lips. “Think we can work out some sort of other method of payment?”
“You’re sick,” he said, kissing her again. “And I love it.”
Before she could even introduce him to the boys, six more giant men rolled through the kitchen and started ransacking the pizza, acknowledging Jake in passing.
“Sup, man?”
“What’s good, bro?”
“Good lord. Are you feeding an entire football team?” he joked, watching them load up, grab beers, and disappear back to the living room.
“Sorta. Hockey, actually. So, Jake. This, um…these…” she looked at Ryan and Tyler. “This is my…roommate, Ryan Baylor, and his boyfriend, Tyler Hayes.”
“Um, OK. Wow,” Jake said, blinking a few times and reaching his hand out to shake Ryan’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryan.”
“I’d shake your hand, man, but I did an edible and can’t feel my arms.”
Tyler took over, shaking Jake’s hand. “Don’t mind him. It’s nice to finally meet you, man. Mar’s told us all about you. All good things.”
