Page 33 of Pitcher

He chuckles, unaffected, and goes back to the TV.

Finally, the food is ready. I load up one plate for us to share and shoo him over so I can sit beside him.

“Mmm…,” he groans longingly. “I don’t know if I’m going to miss you or these pancakes.”

He just has to keep reminding me of our expiration date.

A day when years’ worth of friendship will be reduced to keeping in touch on social media.

I don’t feel hungry anymore.

Theo, unbeknownst to my change in mood, proceeds to devour most of the food. I just hand it over so he can shovel it in without worrying about spilling syrup on me.

“You don’t want any?” he asks with a mouthful of pancakes.

I shake my head. “Did you find anything for us to watch?”

He eyes me curiously and sets the plate down on the coffee table.

I watch him watching me, both of us quiet and dissecting.

Finally, he sighs long and pained before pulling me down on top of him, allowing me to burrow into the crook of his arm. My breath fans across his nipple, and I see chills break out along his chest.

“Are you cold?”

His scolding stare says all it needs to.

Someone else in this house is sensitive.

Ignoring my grin, he snatches the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and covers up his chest, almost smothering me in the process.

I chuckle, perking up tremendously.

But then he turns on a recorded baseball game of our favorite team, and I decide not to be sad that we won’t be able to do this much longer and, instead, enjoy today.

I wake with a start.

Giggling is coming from the living room.

I’m not a psycho.

I’m not.

I’m jealous.

I know it’s irrational. Trust me, I’ve been in this situation time and time again.

It never gets any easier.

Never.

Climbing out of the bed, I tell my rational self to fucking chill. Just because Theo spent the afternoon with me, holding me in his arms and dragging those long fingers down my spine does not mean he can’t get a quickie in our living room.

I mean, I’ve seen it before.

Many, many times.

So why am I shucking off my pants, leaving myself in his T-shirt and underwear, as I head out into the open area?

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