“This is not pizza,” she stated, poking at the crust with a fingernail.
August grabbed a slice in his hands and arched a brow. “You put fruit on your pizza. I don’t think you get to be the authority on what is or isn’t pizza.”
“It’s pineapple, and a lot of people like it on their pizza.”
He grunted. “No, they don’t. I bet everyone is just too nice to tell you how disgusting it is.”
Not true. Pru and Lilly frequently commented on her choice of pizza toppings. They only allowed her to put it on half whenever they ordered pizza together. But a lot of other people liked it. Like her mom and…she was sure there were others. Why else would it be an option if people didn’t like it?
“Just try it,” August said. “I promise you’ll like it, but if you don’t, you can order the abomination that you call a pizza and I’ll eat a slice.”
She perked up at that challenge. “Really? You’re going to eat pineapple pizza?”
“One slice,” he reiterated with a pointed look. “But I won’t have to because I bet you’re going to love my cauliflower pizza.”
Her appetite perked up at his challenge. Mo could never turn down a bet.
“And what do you get if you’re right?”
A devilish grin curled his lips. “The satisfaction of knowing I’m right and you’re wrong.”
Evil man. He knew how much she liked being right. Mo wasn’t afraid to admit when she was wrong, but it really, really sucked. Why couldn’t he be a normal guy and want sex or something? Her heart rate kicked up at the thought. Eh, she’d probably be giving that to him tonight anyway.
That way they’d both win.
“Okay.” She hesitantly picked up a slice of the pizza and brought it to her lips. “You’re on, but I think you’re being overly confident and I can’t wait to see you eat that sweet, sweet pineapple humble pie.”
August shook his head with a small chuckle. “Just take a bite, Sunshine.”
Here she went. She took a deep breath and let it out. The pizza still smelled delectable. Maybe if she closed her eyes it’d be easier to choke down. If she couldn’t see the weirdness of the pizza, she could pretend it was a normal slice. With real starchy goodness crust.
Her lips parted, and she placed the slice in her mouth, biting down. The warmth of the pizza heated her mouth, but it didn’t burn. She’d taken a large enough bite to get a bit of everything, expecting to recoil in disgust, but as soon as the flavors hit her taste buds, an involuntary moan rose up her throat.
Son of a bitch!
Holy hell, this was amazing! If August hadn’t mentioned this crust was made from cauliflower, she wouldn’t have known. It was a bit chewier than regular crust, more like flatbread, but so delicious. The pesto base matched perfectly with the sliced tomatoes and the fresh mozzarella. Why had she never had fresh mozzarella before? It was amazing! Even the basil tasted good.
Before she’d even realized it, she’d finished her entire first piece. She glanced up to see August smiling at her from across the table, his smug expression killing some of her pizza high. Good thing she had a second piece to bring it back up again, but first, “Damn you.”
He grinned even bigger. “Say it.”
Trying to delay the inevitable, she picked up her second piece and took a huge bite, closing her eyes in bliss as she used the power of the delicious pizza to work up the fortitude to open her mouth and say, “Fine. You’re right. The pizza is delicious.”
“Cauliflower and all?”
“Cauliflower and all. Happy?”
He nodded, taking a huge bite of his own slice, chewing and swallowing before answering, “Yup.”
Between the two of them, they finished off the entire pizza. Mo stacked the dishwasher while August washed the pizza stone in the sink.
“So you do know what a dishwasher is,” he said with a laugh. “I was beginning to wonder.”
“Just because I might leave my dishes out for a few minutes after I finish a meal doesn’t mean I don’t know how to stack a dishwasher.”
August rinsed the pizza stone and put it in the drying rack. “Try hours after a meal. The other day, I found a bowl that had mold growing on it.”
Mo snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s where that went.”
August shook his head, grabbing the pizza cutter and dunking it in the soapy water. “I’m just saying, it’s easier to clean up if you do it right away. Less time for things to set in.”
Dipping her hand into the sink, she scooped up a handful of bubbly water. “I think you need to learn to have a little fun.”
Then she tipped her hand over August’s head, dousing his red locks. It wasn’t a large amount of water, but it was enough to have him jumping back with a start. A few drops of water ran down his forehead, and he swiped them away with the back of his hand.
“Moira!”
“What?” She giggled.
He grabbed a dishtowel and ran it over his head, rubbing the water out. “We’re trying to clean, not make a mess.”
He looked so adorably grumpy, she couldn’t help the laughter escaping her lips. “It’s soapy water. Soap is clean. I’m helping clean.”
He gave her a droll look at her logic. “It’s dingy dishwater filled with food particles, and you’re riling me up on purpose.”
“Oh, really?” With a small shrug, she turned. “Maybe I’ll just go, then.”
August’s arm snaked around her waist. His lips caressed her ear, warm breath sending a tingle down her spine as he whispered.
“Oh no, not yet, Sunshine. Turnabout is fair play.”
She let out a small yelp as his cupped hand tipped over her chest, pouring water down the front of her shirt. August’s hands were a lot bigger than hers, so his water play led to much more significant damage.
“August, you got my shirt all dirty with yucky sink water.”
“Mmmmm,” he hummed in her ear. “Whatever shall we do?”
Desire pounded low in her gut, and her nipples hardened, but not from the water. Nope. It had to do with the man holding her, letting his grumpy guard down and actually being playful. She had to say: it was sexy as hell.
“Guess I better take it off.”
“Guess so.”
She moaned as August gave her a little love bite on her neck. His thick fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She was so glad she’d worn a stretchy blouse today instead of a button up. One of his hands came around to flick open the latch of her bra. The cups fell away, and she quickly shimmied her arms to get the straps to loosen, causing the garment to fall to the floor in front of her.
“Turn around and put your hands on the counter,” August’s deep voice commanded.
Mo usually liked to take charge in the bedroom, but since they were in the kitchen, August’s domain, she figured she could hand the reins over this one time. She turned to face the kitchen counter, bending down slightly to place her palms on the counter.
“Please tell me you have a condom handy,” she panted, anticipation taking her breath away.
He chuckled, one hand coming around her bare stomach and grabbing the fabric of her maxi skirt, slowly pulling the material up inch by agonizing inch.
“Around you, Sunshine, I never leave them far away.”
Look at mister “get it out of our system,” all addicted to her now. She tried not to be too happy about it, but she really liked August, and the fact that he seemed to want her just as much made her heart swell. It might only be sex right now, but physical connection often led to emotional ones. She knew what her friends would say.
Don’t get your hopes up, Mo. Don’t confuse sex with love.
She wasn’t confused.
She was optimistic.
All thoughts flew from her brain when his hand finally dipped und
er all the fabric of her skirt to touch her right where she craved him most. She cried out when his fingers slipped inside her panties, stroking along her core, teasing every ounce of pleasure out of her.
“August!”
He chuckled in her ear. “Like that, Sunshine? Want more?”
She nodded, a soft yes escaping her lips. He plunged two fingers inside her, his thumb rubbing tiny magic circles right where she needed it. It amazed her how quickly August learned her body. How attuned he was to her needs, her desires. He didn’t just go for it; he listened to her body, asked her what she wanted. She’d never had such an attentive lover.
When she started panting, he increased the pressure with his thumb. His fingers moved faster, curling upward to hit that sweet spot he’d discovered that made her eyes roll back in her head. She gripped the counter, her body tightening with impending release.
“August!”
Knowing what she needed, he moved his hand slightly so his palm replaced his thumb and pressed down with a firm but delightful pressure. Her world exploded. She collapsed against the counter with another world class August Porter orgasm. She heard his zipper and the crinkle of the condom wrapper before she felt the blunt head of his erection against her.
“Okay, Sunshine?”
She loved how he always asked, always checked in with her even when she knew he was dying of as much lust as she. August might not think he was sweet, but he was one of the most considerate people she’d ever met.
“Yes, please, August. I need you.”
He pushed inside her. Slowly. What was his deal with slow tonight? Wanting to give as good as she’d gotten, Mo leaned back, taking him all the way in, relishing in the loud groan he let out as she pressed herself against him. He grasped her hips, holding her to him as he thrust in and out, his pace frantic and much better than the slow torture he’d given her earlier.
Scratch that. Every pace August set was amazing. She just really liked it when he lost his cool and collected control.
It wasn’t long before she was flying again, crying out with her release. August found his moments later, pulling her down to the floor with him as both their legs wobbled. She sat on his lap, a satisfied smile so wide it hurt her cheeks, but she didn’t care. She felt too damn good right now.
Some of the sink water had splashed over in their enthusiasm. The sponge had fallen to the floor beside her discarded top and bra. The sight made her laugh.
“Looks like our attempts to clean up just made a bigger mess.”
His lips pressed against her temple. “You’re worth a little mess, Sunshine.”
“Careful there, big guy. You keep saying such wonderful things and I just might fall in love with you.”
She felt his entire body stiffen. Shoot. She’d been going for playful, but obviously that had been the wrong thing to say. All the warm fuzzies from a few seconds ago vanished. Her post-orgasm glow died as August gently moved her off him and stood. He took care of the condom and tucked himself back into his pants before he spoke.
“You remember this is just sex, Moira. Right?”
Forgoing her bra, she grabbed her shirt and tugged it over her head as she stood to face August. “Duh. Lighten up, Gus Gus. It was a joke.”
He didn’t appear convinced. She choked down the tiny ball of hurt because a part of her wasn’t convinced, either. All jokes had an element of truth to them, her nonna had said once. Sometimes people used humor to mask pain or vulnerability.
She might have been accused of that once or twice over the years.
“Relax, August.” She patted his arm, trying her best to blow this whole thing over. “I know it’s just sex. You can’t catch feelings. They’re not a virus.”
He still looked wary but dropped the matter.
She headed into the living room, calling over her shoulder, “Now grab some popcorn and ice cream. I’ve got some standup to binge, and I deserve a treat after eating so healthy for dinner.”
“That’s not how it works,” August said from behind her. “The cauliflower doesn’t cancel out the ice cream, Mo.”
“Less talking, more junk food.” She gave a little wave of her fingers over her shoulder, heading for the couch.
Her body was satisfied, but her head was confused. Her heart…the poor thing didn’t know what it wanted. August was so not who she imagined she’d end up with. They were totally wrong for each other. He could make her so mad sometimes. But he also made her laugh. He made her smile. He made her health food that actually tasted good.
It all rolled into one big ball of messy emotions she didn’t want to deal with right now. And on top of it all was his impending departure, his desire to take Agatha away, and the secret she was keeping from him about his grandmother.
With all those balls up in the air, Mo didn’t know what she was feeling for the man. All she knew was it felt like suspiciously more than just sex. Her stomach cramped with the realization. Falling for August would be such a bad idea.
And she feared this bad decision would either make the greatest story of her life…
Or the worst.
Chapter Sixteen
August felt terrible. Physically, he’d never felt more relaxed in his life. Sex with Mo was amazing. Like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was like their bodies were fine-tuned to each other’s. Every opposite aspect they had outside the bedroom flipped to make them so compatible in bed, they were almost one person.
So yeah, physically, he was great. But emotionally? He felt like an ass. Mo had been joking, being flippant. It’s what Mo did. And he’d gotten serious, killing the mood.
That’s what he did.
Honestly, the intensity of it all kind of freaked him out. He’d never felt so connected to a woman during sex. Or during no sex, for that matter. Something about Mo made him feel…safe. Which was odd, because the woman was anything but. Caution didn’t seem to be in her vocabulary. She saw something and went for it, and damn the consequences.
If it didn’t freak him out so much, he might admire it. But how did a person live like that, so in the moment, never giving a thought to the future, to what tomorrow might bring? August had been conditioned at a very young age to think ahead. Monday through Wednesday at Mom’s, Thursday through Saturday at Dad’s, alternating Sundays with each. He always had to plan ahead. Make sure his homework was with him at all times. Coordinate his school schedule with each parent so he didn’t miss an activity because he was at Mom’s and she forgot he had baseball practice or he was at Dad’s and it was his stepbrother’s birthday so he had to find his own way to study group.
He’d often felt like a stranger in both homes, neither belonging to him, but both trying to claim him.
“How’s that popcorn and ice cream coming?” Mo called from the living room.
August glanced at the microwave. “Got one more minute.”
“Sweet. Oooooh, Tiffany Haddish has a new comedy special!”
“Great.” He didn’t know who that was, but Mo had tried—and enjoyed—his cauliflower pizza, so he supposed he could bend a little and try some comedy act.
When the microwave beeped, he grabbed the bag and the bowl of ice cream he scooped and headed into the living room. He placed both items on the coffee table in front of Mo, hesitating. Did he sit by her on the couch? Take the chair? He knew he’d upset her with his reminder of what they were, but it needed to be said.
For both their sakes.
Mo glanced up at him, shaking her head at his hesitation. She patted the couch next to her.
“Sit down, weirdo. I don’t bite.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “Unless you want me to.”
Grateful she seemed to be letting the earlier moment slide, he sat next to her, draping his arm across the back of the couch. She scooted over, snuggling into his side and grabbing the bowl of ice cream.
“Are we sh
aring?”
He shook his head. “No, you go ahead.” Too much dairy made him sick, and since he’d already had the mozzarella, he’d stick to the popcorn for dessert.
“Your loss.” She shrugged. Grabbing the remote, she grinned up at him. “Be prepared to laugh your incredibly sexy ass off. This woman is hilarious.”
The woman in his arms was hilarious and sweet and sexy and surprising, and he really needed to get ahold of himself. He was leaving in a few months. This was all temporary. It might feel like nice domestic bliss now, but he knew that didn’t last. Didn’t for his parents and half the other people in the world. Why the hell would he think it would for him?
Mo started up the show, which he surprisingly found entertaining. August liked a joke as much as the next person, but he didn’t voluntarily go for standup. Maybe he’d have to change that.
“So?” Mo asked as she shut off the TV. “Funny right?”
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Very.”
“I love standup comedy. My dad did some amateur stuff when us kids were growing up, but he didn’t like the travel, so he mostly stayed in local spots. I always loved going to see his shows.”
“They were appropriate for kids?”
She grinned. “Not always, but my brothers and I would sneak down to the basement and catch him rehearsing the more not-safe-for-work stuff. Then Mom would inevitably catch us and send us up to our rooms, giving Dad grief when we repeated the bad words he used.”
She laughed, as if her parents fighting was a fond childhood memory. Maybe for her family it was. If her parents were still married, perhaps they were like those mythical TV couples who argue to a laugh track and solved all their problems in thirty minutes or less.
“Are they still married?” he asked, not sure why he was poking into this particular vein of conversation. “Your parents.”
Mo grabbed the bag of popcorn, digging into the last of the kernels. “Oh, they’ve never been married.”
“What?” His jaw opened in shock. Mo, the wedding planner with stars in her eyes when it came to love and happily ever after, had parents who weren’t married? It didn’t add up.
The Roommate Problem Page 14