I heard more silence then, “You made him your pizza?”
“He asked for it.”
I heard even more silence then on a shout, “Brent! Get this! Mara made her barbeque chicken pizza for Mitch. He fixed her faucet. He’s going over there tonight for pizza!”
Ohmigod!
B and B lived right across from Mitch! He might be able to hear Bradon shout.
“You’re joking!” I heard Brent shout back then I heard a closer to the phone shout of, “Excellent!”
“Bray!” I hissed. “Stop shouting!”
“I love this,” Bradon said in my ear.
“I love it too!” I heard Brent shout.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it’s cool and because it’s about time. I don’t know what your deal is, girl, but he is hot. I was a girl and I was straight, I would have made my move a long time ago,” Bradon told me.
“This isn’t a move. This is a thank you pizza,” I informed him.
“Unh-hunh,” Bray mumbled. “I hope you’re wearing that little camisole, the sage-y gray one that’s satin. It’s hot. You’re hot in it. And if I was straight and you made me pizza and I came over and you were wearing that top, I’d jump you …” he paused, “before the pizza.”
See what I mean? Friends always thought you were in a different zone than you truly were.
“It’s just a neighborly thanks for fixing my faucet pizza,” I again explained.
“Right. Wear that top,” Bradon returned.
“Definitely wear that top,” Brent said loudly in the background.
“With those jeans, the tight ones that are faded and have the split in the knee,” Bradon added.
“Oh yeah,” I heard Brent put in. “And the silver sandals. Not the wedges. The ones with the stiletto heel.”
“Absolutely. Those silver sandals are beyond hot. They’re smokin’ hot,” Bradon continued.
“I can’t wear those sandals with those jeans. Those jeans are knockabout jeans. Those sandals are fancy sandals,” I argued. “You don’t put those together.”
“Oh yeah you do, especially since those jeans do things to your ass that would knock the g*y out of Elton John,” Bradon retorted.
These guys.
“Whatever,” I muttered and got back to the matter at hand. “Can you just tell me if his SUV is out there?”
I didn’t want to wander over there and knock if he wasn’t there and I didn’t want to have to go out there to see if his SUV was there. If I had to take time out to do anything that scary, I’d lose my nerve. I’d made the pizza. I’d gone all out. I was psyched up. This had to go smoothly. Anything going wrong could put me off.
There was nothing for a second from Bradon and I figured he was going to his living room window then I heard, “Yeah, his SUV is there.”
Damn. Suddenly I decided that was bad news.
“Change, girl, into that outfit and go, go, go,” Bradon encouraged. “Then call me tomorrow morning when he’s out buying you a bagel and let us know if he’s as good with that fabulous body as the way he moves promises.”
I felt these words all over my body but my scalp, ni**les and points south tingled the most.
Would that I lived in a world where Detective Mitch Lawson ate my pizza, spent the night and left my bed the next morning to buy me a bagel. I loved bagels. I’d love Mitch leaving my bed to buy me one more. Mostly because that would mean he was coming back.