That sounded like it sucked.
It also was not my problem.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to go?” I asked.
“Not anywhere I wanna be.”
That, unfortunately, sounded nice.
Damn.
I studied him. He was clearly in for the long haul and it was doubtful I could take him on, best him and get him out my door.
Damn again.
I slammed the door, stomped into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of placemats, some paper towels and a plate then stomped back out to the living room. I approached the coffee table opposite him and then rearranged the beer and food so they were on placemats, dropped the paper towels on the table then I jerked a plate toward Tack.
“Eat your pizza, drink your beer and then go,” I demanded.
He took the plate, set it on the coffee table and continued to eat with his hands and no plate. He did this with his eyes on me. I stood across from him, put my hands to my h*ps and watched him watching me.
“Babe,” he said quietly after he finished his first slice, “sit and eat.”
I looked down at the pizza. It looked like sausage and olive. It also looked really good even though I wasn’t a raving fan of sausage.
“I don’t eat pizza after yoga. Pizza defeats the purpose of yoga. I’m going to have a cup of rejuvenating green tea and, probably, a salad.”
Tack stared up at me. Then he asked, “Say again?”
“I’m going to have a cup of rejuvenating green tea and a salad and I’m going to do both when you’re done with your pizza and beer and you’re gone.”
“Green tea?”
“Rejuvenating green tea,” I corrected.
“Christ, that sounds shit.”
It actually kind of was. I wasn’t certain why I drank it because I didn’t like it but I felt it was important to be healthy so, outside of Thursday night takeaway night and a donut indulgence here and there (and a cake indulgence, and the pie ones I sometimes had, as well as the cookie ones that weren’t unknown to occur), I was studiously healthy.
“I thought you liked your donuts,” he noted.
“Donuts are an indulgence,” I explained. “You don’t indulge every day. If you did, it wouldn’t be an indulgence.”
He studied me.
Then he ordered, “Red, sit down, grab a beer, eat a slice and f**kin’ live a little.”
“No, Tack, you drink your beer, eat your pizza and live a little and I’ll make my salad when you leave.”
At that, he suddenly stood and I found myself looking up at him rather than down which was a change of circumstances I wasn’t ready for. Tack sitting on my couch eating pizza and drinking beer seemed harmless. Tack standing, staring down at me and filling my living room with biker guy badassness seemed something else entirely.
“All right, Tyra, I’ll give you a quick lesson seein’ as you drink tea, eat salads, do yoga, live in a fancy-ass house with a fancy-ass yard, you probably don’t get how this is gonna go ‘cause I’m seein’ you probably never f**ked a man like me so I’ll help you out and tell you how it’s gonna go,” he began.
Oh boy.
Before I could say word one, he went on, “How it’s gonna go is you’re gonna sit your ass down, eat pizza, drink beer and relax with me or I’ll pick your ass up, plant it in the couch and then you’re gonna eat pizza, drink beer and relax with me.”
“You can’t tell me where to sit or what to eat and drink, Tack, that’s ridicu –”