Page 41 of The Deal

“Because I was hoping you’d have better taste than that.”

“I’m sorry you find vegetables boring, Garrett. Why don’t you give me a call when you get scurvy?”

“Scurvy is a deficiency of Vitamin C. You don’t put sunshine or oranges on pizza, sweetheart.”

In the end, I compromise by ordering two pizzas, one with Hannah’s boring-ass toppings, the other loaded with meat and cheese. I cover the mouthpiece and glance at her. “Diet Coke?”

“Regular Coke, thank you very much.”

Chuckling, I place our order, then put on the first episode of Breaking Bad. We’re twenty minutes in when the doorbell rings.

“Wow. Fastest pizza delivery guy ever,” Hannah remarks.

My stomach is not complaining in the slightest. I head downstairs and grab our food, then pop into the kitchen to grab paper towels and a bottle of Bud Light from the fridge. At the last second, I grab an extra bottle in case Hannah wants one.

But when I offer it to her upstairs, she vehemently shakes her head. “No, thank you.”

“What, you’re too much of a prude to have one beer?”

Discomfort flickers in her eyes. “I’m not a big drinker, okay?”

I shrug and crack open my beer, taking a deep swig as Hannah rips a piece of paper towel off the roll and pries a gooey vegetable-covered slice out of the box.

We settle on the bed to eat, neither of us speaking as I turn the show back on. The pilot episode is amazing, and Hannah doesn’t object when I click on the next one.

There’s a female in my bedroom and neither of us is naked. It’s strange. But kinda nice. We don’t talk much during the show—we’re too engrossed by what’s happening on the screen—but once the second episode ends, Hannah turns to me and gapes.

“Oh my God, imagine not knowing that your husband is cooking meth? Poor Skylar.”

“She’s definitely going to find out.”

Hannah gasps. “Hey. No spoilers!”

“That’s not a spoiler,” I protest. “It’s a prediction.”

She relaxes. “Okay, good.”

She picks up her Coke can and takes a deep swig. I’ve already demolished my pizza, but Hannah’s is only half done, so I steal a piece and take a big bite.

“Ohhhh, look who’s eating my boring pizza. Can anyone say hypocrite?”

“It’s not my fault you eat like a bird, Wellsy. I can’t let food go to waste.”

“I had four slices!”

I have to concede, “Yeah, that actually makes you a total pig compared to the girls I know. The most they ever eat is half a starter salad.”

“That’s because they need to stay rail-thin so guys like you will find them attractive.”

“There’s nothing attractive about a woman who’s all skin and bones.”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure you’re so turned off by skinny women.”

I roll my eyes. “No. I’m just saying I prefer ’em curvy.” I swallow my last bite before reaching for another slice. “A man likes having something to grab onto when he’s…you know.” I arch my eyebrows at her. “It goes both ways, though. I mean, wouldn’t you rather sleep with a guy who’s built over one who’s a twig?”

She snorts. “Is this the part where I compliment you on your super hot bod?”

“You think I’m super hot? Thanks, baby.”

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