Page 67 of Business Casual
She sighs and closes the remaining distance between us. She thrusts the pizza box into my chest. I stare down at her and raise both eyebrows.
“It’s a thick crust, extra cheese pizza with double pepperoni. I got it because I know it’s your favorite. And I know it’s your favorite because we are friends. Now, I’d like to come inside and eat this pizza before it gets cold. With you.”
“As friends,” I clarify.
That half smile curls her mouth again. “Yes. You can tell me about your day and I’ll tell you about mine. We’ll do some planning for the harvest festival and I’ll steal something to drink from your fridge. Then I’ll drive home and see you later this week.”
“Later this week?”
“Yeah. Later this week.”
I consider it. Part of me is still tender about last night, but there’s a bigger piece of me that’s tired of sitting in this little house all alone.
“I’m picking what we watch on TV,” I finally say.
Her smile slips wider before she tucks it back into place, lips pressed down against it. She rocks back on her heels on the rickety front porch, boards squeaking beneath her boots. “That’s fine.”
“And I’m going to eat your crust.”
“That’s fine too.”
“I’m going to take up most of the couch,” I warn.
I take up too much space, I want to tell her.I’m loud and sometimes I don’t know how to stop talking. I’m a lot and I know that. I can’t figure out how to make myself fit, but I’m trying. I promise I’m trying.
She shrugs. “I don’t need much room to be comfortable.”
I push off the door and open it wider behind me. Nova’s smile cracks open. Something in my chest stumbles over it, and I have to remind myself, again, that Nova Porter is not for me. I’ve already gotten everything from her that I’m going to get, and I can settle for this, or I can have nothing at all. Those are my options.
“Come on in then.”
She slips past me into the house, her arm brushing against mine.
“I hope you have hot sauce.”
I watch her wander into the kitchen, holding the pizza box in one hand while she wrestles her way out of her coat. It’s a tight feeling in my chest, seeing her in this space. Moving around it like she doesn’t want to be anywhere else. I blow out a deep breath.
“Of course I do.” I shut the door to the cottage. “I’m not a heathen.”
?We spread outon the couch with the pizza.
Nova burrows in the corner with her legs tucked under her while I spread out on the other side, my crossed ankles resting on the coffee table, my arm spread across the back. She drops a slice of pepperoni on a chipped plate with tiny Christmas trees along the edge and takes the box for herself, opening it on her lap.
“Did you not want a plate?”
“I have a plate.” She holds the box up off her tucked knees and wiggles it around. I urge it back to her lap, not willing to spend half of my evening scrubbing grease stains out of Stella’s couch.
“An actual plate.”
“What do you have against cardboard, Charlie?”
“Nothing. I just like coordinating dinnerware.”
She snickers as I scroll through the channels, looking for something for us to watch. I pause on the Home Shopping Network and she boos. I pause again on a show about dog grooming just to hear her laugh.
Her face lights up when I pause on the classic movie channel,Katharine Hepburn filling the screen. I toss the remote on the coffee table and reach for the pizza plate I set to the side. She peers at me from behind the lid of her makeshift plate with a surprised look on her face.
“What?” I ask.
