Page 37 of His Greatest Treasure

“It’s one reason in a long list of others.”

Before Oliver can reply, the doorbell rings, and I’m rushing out of the room, not giving a shit about how ridiculous I must look for hightailing it out of there. God, I’m a mess.

“Pizza’s here, Mom!” Nova squeals, nose smooshed to the front window.

“Want to pick a movie for us to watch?” I ask her.

She’s quick to agree, diving from the couch to the small rack of DVDs beneath the television. “Yep!”

The pizza delivery boy is waiting on the other side of the door when I whip it open and snag the boxes from his hands. He tells me the total for all the food, and I leave him there while I drop the boxes on the coffee table and grab my wallet. Oliver’s voicestalls my movements.

“Have a good night. Thanks.”

The door clicks shut, and I glare the entire way back to it. Oliver turns the lock on the door the way I did when he arrived and shakes his head as I stop in front of him.

“I’ll eat most of the food. It’s not a big deal,” he grumbles.

“I didn’t need you to pay for that.”

“You didn’t. I paid anyway.”

My neck hurts from craning it back so much to meet his stare, but I’m trying to prove a point, so I tip it back even more, narrow my eyes further, and tug at the hem of my sweatshirt to keep from shoving him out the door after the delivery boy.

“This isn’t a date,” I argue.

A muscle above his eye twitches. “I’m well aware of that.”

“So don’t do that again. Next time, I’ll pay.”

I realize after I speak that I just insinuated there would be a second time, but it’s already out there, and I can’t take it back. Not without stumbling over my words.

“Fine,” he says, not mentioning my mess-up before brushing past me, the heat from his body scorching my arm.

The pizza boxes on the table don’t stay there long. He lifts them with little effort and carries them to the kitchen. Then I hear the cupboards opening one by one.

I let my shoulders fall forward slightly and follow him, tossing a glance at Nova as she continues to pick between two movies.Lady and the TrampandCars, the same two she’s debated on every night since we moved here.

“The plates are to your left,” I say, stepping into the kitchen. At least I’ve unpacked most of the kitchen by now.

Oliver looks at me over his shoulder for a brief second and then opens the right cupboard. He grabs three plates and carries them to the table, setting them beside the two boxes and white container with chicken wings inside.

“One is Hawaiian, Nova’s choice, and the other is three meat. I didn’t know if you still liked the same pizza after all these years, but I forgot to ask earlier,” I admit, feeling almost nervous.

“I do.” His throat bobs as he surveys the boxes. “I still like the same, I mean.”

A burst of warmth surges through me that I try to ignore. “Well, help yourself. Nova’s picking a movie. Our cable hasn’t been hooked up yet, so we’re stuck watching one of the few disks we own.”

“Why isn’t your cable set up?”

I peel open the top box, thankful it’s the ham and pineapple as I take a slice for Nova. “It’s been a struggle to get the company out. They’ve cancelled a few times so far.”

When he scowls, I duck into the living room and get Nova set up on her beanbag chair. She’s already got the DVD in the ancient-looking player I found at the thrift shop, and as the opening credits pop up onscreen, I hand her her plate.

Turning from her to head back to grab my own, I stumble at the sight of Oliver behind me, one plate in each hand. My mouth runs dry when he extends the one with three pieces of pizza, all meat.

“No pineapple, right?” he asks.

“No pineapple.” I take the plate from him and sit on the couch. “Thank you.”

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