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Chapter Eighteen
I decide to spend the day alone, although I don’t kick the sexy incubus out straight away. For a while he continues to tease me about who was best: him or Ash, until eventually I snap and threaten to concoct a spell that will block him from feeling people’s sexual arousal—putting him on a diet essentially. I have no idea if I can make such a thing, but Oakley believes that I can and is horrified. He sulks in silence for a while, but at least he’s no longer teasing me and I get to enjoy the peace and quiet!
Eventually though I ask him to leave, under the pretense of having some accounting work for the shop to catch up on.
When he’s gone I snuggle up on the sofa under a blanket and binge watch shows on Netflix. I’m watching this horror series that even manages to freak me out a little bit, and I have to keep pausing it when I start thinking I can hear strange noises coming from upstairs. Just my imagination. Although, I do go check the closet a couple of times to be extra sure.
Jasper joins me, burrowing under the blankets and curling up on my lap. I pet him absentmindedly and smile over how much I love having a pet in the house again. It’s been too long. I used to have a cat, but my ex didn’t like animals. Like, any animals. Probably should have been a warning sign for me, but I was young and stupid. Obviously, I didn’t get rid of Accio-cat to make him happy, she just disappeared one day. I was heartbroken. I refused to accept that anything bad may have happened to her, hence why, even after moving to a different country, I still had her bed in my shed.
I’m just telling Jasper how much he would have loved playing with Accio-cat when the bell rings. I’m not expecting anything and I didn’t order takeout, but as I lumber to my feet I can’t help but pray it’s pizza. On the house pizza, sent directly to me by the pizza gods. It’s a junk-food-needed kinda day. How else’s a girl to recharge after having so much great D in such a short space of time?
Unfortunately, it’s not pizza. Stupid damn gods, always getting my order wrong.
Instead, Rowan stands on the doorstep.
“Hello.” I’m colder than an ice queen. Only, it’s a little hard—with my D addled brain—to remember why I’m so mad at him.
“Hey, can I come in? Can we talk?”
I hesitate, unsure. I was having a good time by myself. But then the smell hits me. “Please? I brought pizza.” Rowan looks up at me with a cute and hopeful smile, but I’ve already fisted my hand in his shirt and yanked him over the threshold.
“Gimme!” I cry like a wild thing, and he laughs.
“Okay, pizza apologies are better than drinks at Vee apologies then,” he states, still laughing.
“Whatever, just give me the grease before it goes cold.”
“Cold pizza is the best.” I freeze in my tracks and stare at him. Uh-oh. We might have a problem here.
“Hot pizza is the best. Nothing beats the smell, look or taste of hot pizza. Especially pepperoni, when the oils release.” I groan. I need to stop talking; it’s like porn to me. “Just feed me.”
“Your wish is my command, love.” Still chuckling to himself, he walks off in the direction of my kitchen, clutching the pizza box that I never even noticed in his hands. I sit on the sofa and await my love.
“What would you have done if I didn’t let you in?” I ask when he comes into the lounge and sits by me. He places the pizza box on the table and offers me a plate, but I just shoot him a withering look before diving into the box and grabbing a slice. It’s the best kind—a meat feast—and I actually have a tiny little foodgasm when I take my first bite. Fuck, yeah, I love pizza.
“Well, I guess I would have just left,” Rowan answers me.
“What about the pizza?” I ask sharply.
“I’d have left it on the doorstep for you.”
I nod, satisfied with this answer. As far as apologies go, pizza is good. I definitely don’t remember why I was mad at him before, but I’m not about to tell him that.
Jasper gives a disgruntled little bark at being kicked off the sofa in favor of food, so I toss him my pizza crust as a consolation prize. He yips happily and skips off with it somewhere as I help myself to another slice.
Rowan grabs a slice for himself—also foregoing the plate. I guess he was just trying to be polite or something but some foods just taste better out of the box.
“Pineapple on pizza,” I suddenly fire at him. “Where do you stand?” I feel like this test could define us.
“Love it,” he replies with no hesitation whatsoever. Hmmm, okay. Right answer. “What about fish on pizza?” he fires back.
“Fuck no!” I pull a face and he laughs.
“Agreed. Linden likes anchovies on his pizza.”
“I knew there was a reason why I disliked him so much,” I mutter.
And then, of course, by mentioning his twin, I’m suddenly reminded why I was mad in the first place. I tense and put down my fourth slice of pizza. Yeah, I just kind of inhaled a couple of slices while we were talking, but now I’m not feeling it.
