“I hope you got me veggie,” she called out as she padded barefoot into the small living/dining space. It was a constant source of contention between them – Nick always wanted the “all meats”; Nicki, the “all veg”. Nick usually won out, and Nicki contented herself on eating the crusts and scrounging from her ever-present stash of fresh fruit, nuts, and peanut butter. Home-cooked meals were not a priority, but then, as Nick said often enough, you didn’t miss what you never had.
“Yeah,” Nick said, his voice smooth as he handed her a beer. She took it gratefully, then paused with the bottle halfway to her lips as Sean stood up from the sofa in an old fashioned gesture. To his credit, his lips twitched only slightly, though he wasn’t as successful at keeping the amusement out of his eyes.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” she asked, suddenly all too aware of what she was, and was not, wearing. It shouldn’t have mattered, really. She had worn far less the night before. But without her costume, without her make-up, she felt strangely... exposed. She swore Sean’s eyes glittered when her traitorous nipples hardened to granite pebbles beneath the soft white V-neck. Thankfully, his eyes rose quickly and locked on her face instead.
No, shit, that was even worse.
“Sean’s cool, Nicki. Chill. Here, this is for you.” Nick handed her a white box. She looked at it as if it might bite her. “Go on, open it.”
Suspiciously, she lifted the lid. The heavenly smell of onions, mushrooms, black olives, and three different kinds of peppers smothered in cheese hit her full-on. So that was it – Nick and Sean were joining forces, no doubt thinking that between the two of them they could make her see reason. Nick had been on her case about working at Angels the minute he found out. And he’d involved his boss.
Nicki had a sudden, vehement urge to throw the pizza at him. At both of them.
But as aggravated as she was, her hunger won out. She would eat first and battle later. Nick smiled cockily when she took the box over to the far corner and sank down into the large chair there, no doubt thinking he’d won the battle. She would not correct him. Yet.
With the box propped in her lap above her crisscrossed legs and the lid open, Nicki could concentrate on her pizza and ignore them. Within a few minutes they seemed to forget she was even there, digging into their own pizzas – Sean seemed to share Nick’s penchant for the heart-stopping, artery-clogging, flesh-topped variety – and beers.
She snorted in another wave of indignation. Why didn’t guys have to watch their calories like women? If she ate like that all the time she’d really be out of a job, but them – they looked like they spent hours a day in a gym without even trying. Yet more proof that God was a man. Bastards.
Nicki ripped into the extra-cheese, smothering her groan of delight as she pondered the injustices of the universe while Nick and Sean talked about the garage. She couldn’t remember when she had been so hungry. Then again, she couldn’t actually remember the last time she had eaten sitting down. Usually she was in motion, running late on her way to somewhere to do something. Passivity did not come naturally to her. Even now her foot bobbed in steady rhythm to the songs that were always in her head, keeping her (relatively) sane.
It took her a while to realize that their conversation had stopped and both men were staring at her.
“What?” she asked, swallowing the last of her fourth piece. Nick had a smug little half-smile on his face, but Sean was gaping at her in disbelief.
“Where do you put it all?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve never seen such a tiny woman eat so much.”
Nicki muttered something distinctly unladylike, not to mention anatomically impossible, and grabbed another piece. Nick laughed, and even Sean smiled. Nicki really hated when that man smiled. It sent strange sensations into her chest and made certain parts of her clench and unclench rhythmically. Thankfully, Nick turned on some kind of sporting event and they went back to ignoring her.
The incessant drone of the announcers conspired with the heavy food and comfortable clothes, and soon Nicki drifted off. When she opened her eyes again, the room was noticeably darker and all the pizza boxes and beer bottles had been cleared away. A soft lap blanket had been tucked around her legs, a pillow beneath her head.
“So.” Nick’s voice drifted over from somewhere on the other side of the room. “You gonna offer her a job?”
“Already did,” Sean answered quietly.
“When?”
“I happened to run into her earlier. She told me to fuck off.”
“I expected as much. She didn’t believe you were serious, right?”
“Right.”
“Well,” Nick sighed, “it was worth a shot. Fuck, I guess I need to wake her up for her shift.”
“Let her sleep,” Sean said. “Jason pulled her off the floor.”
Nicki held her breath through Nick’s stunned silence. “No shit?”
“No shit. She told me earlier today.”
That wasn’t exactly true, Nicki thought. She’d never actually given him any details, just accused him of trying to get her fired. Which meant he’d just proven her theory that he’d known all along.
Fucking A. Either way she felt a compelling urge to shove one of those longnecks right up that fine, chiseled ass of his.
Chapter Eight