Page 66 of The Woman in 3B
She ended the call and peppered a quick kiss to my mouth and then the tip of my nose. “Pizza’s here,” she chirped.
She rolled off of me and bounced to her feet.
I sat up, albeit reluctantly. “How much is it?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand. “I’ve got it.”
“It’s my apartment,” I frowned. “I should buy.”
“That’s not a real rule,” she refused. “Besides, you bought hot dogs and beer at the baseball game. That’s got to be like half of your paycheck.” She frowned suddenly. “Because stadium food is really expensive,” she clarified, in case I’d taken her words the wrong way. “Not because you don’t make money.”
“I want to pay,” I insisted. My tone was nearly a whine.
Anissa regarded her reflection in the mirror above my dresser and smoothed her hair. I’d disturbed a few of her thick curls. “Too bad,” she sing-songed. She bounced back onto the bed, long enough for a loud, wet kiss to my mouth. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
We ate the pizza in my living room straight out of the box, eschewing plates and forks or any other eating utensils. We used my coffee table as a dining table and sat on the floor. I opened a bottle of a California red blend that wasn’t too terrible, or else Anissa was too polite to make me feel insecure about my wine choice.
The pizza was delicious. I never could understand in those national debates about whose pizza was best—New York thin crust, Chicago deep dish, etc.—why Detroit was on hardly anyone’s radar. The chewy deep dish crust, thick caramelized cheese, and crispy pepperoni was like heaven. I especially liked watching Anissa eating Detroit-style pizza. She took large, enthusiastic bites, sinking her white teeth into the soft, chewy crust. Strings of whole milk mozzarella cheese hung in the balance between her closed lips and the pizza slice. She separated each piece of pepperoni from the top of her pizza square and, holding the crispy, greasy sphere between two fingers, popped it into her mouth. I’d never seen someone get so lost in a meal. Each bite was followed by a quiet murmur of pleasure that made my throat tighten and my thighs clench.
Anissa caught my stare. “What?” she questioned around a mouthful of pizza.
I discovered myself overwhelmed by the moment. This girl might have been the woman of my dreams. I lunged forward and pressed my mouth to hers. Anissa made a surprised noise and jerked her head away.
She held a single finger in the air and swallowed the bite of pizza that I’d interrupted. She licked her lips. “Let’s try that again,” she husked.
She grabbed a handful of the front of my too-large t-shirt and tugged me towards her. The aggressive motion had us both tumbling off our centers of gravity and onto the area rug. Her fingers left the front of my shirt to tangle in my loose hair. She bit down on my lower lip and pulled. I moaned from both pain and pleasure while she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into my mouth. She tasted like oregano and marinara.
Anissa pulled back suddenly. She pressed a single finger to my parted lips to halt my protest. “What’s that noise?”
I stilled as well and listened for whatever it was that Anissa had heard. It took a moment until I recognized the blooping sound coming from my aquarium. “It’s just Honey,” I said. “She’s getting a little excited.”
“She’s not the only one,” Anissa quipped. Her legs wrapped around my midsection, and she pulled me back down for another crushing kiss.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I typically fell asleep with the assistance of a white noise machine. The churning of jet engines and the noises of a crowded airport terminal had become the soundtrack of my life, making it a challenge for me to find sleep without something constantly humming in the background. Silence was too loud.
I hadn’t remembered or at least hadn’t needed to turn on my sleep machine the night before, however, so when I opened my eyes and heard only the sounds of a Sunday morning in Romulus, Michigan, I became slightly disoriented. There was no sweet chirping of birds to be heard; no gentle breeze rustling through the trees; no even the jarring buzz of a lawnmower or leaf blower. Nothing but concrete and pavement surrounded the city blocks around my apartment building. Squealing tires, revving engines, and honking noises filled the morning soundscape.
More concerning, I could have sworn I’d fallen asleep with a beautiful woman, yet the opposite side of my mattress was vacant. I reached across the bed and ran my palm across the cotton sheets. They were still warm.
I pulled on a t-shirt and cotton sleep shorts and adjusted my ponytail before leaving the sanctuary of my bedroom. The scent of warm coffee grounds greeted me as I entered the main living space. My apartment was small, so there were few places Anissa could hide, not that she’d been trying to. She’d pulled one of my kitchen island stools next to Honey’s aquarium, giving her a front row view of Honey’s morning routine.
She drank, I assumed coffee, out of my favorite ceramic mug. She’d also commandeered my extra-large Detroit Tiger’s t-shirt. I had felt like a clown in the oversized t-shirt. Anissa, however, looked like a goddess. Her tan skin contrasted appealingly with the white cotton t-shirt. What was it about beautiful women in oversized shirts that made my legs turn to rubber? Or maybe it was just this beautiful woman in general.
“Morning,” I greeted. My voice was still rough from sleep.
“Good morning,” she returned. “Coffee?” She offered the drink as if she were the hostess instead of me.
I nodded.
She rose from her chair and padded into the kitchen. “What time is your niece’s piano recital?” she asked.
She pulled a second mug from an upper cabinet and poured me a cup of coffee from my coffee maker. I marveled at how easily she’d familiarized herself with my space.
I leaned against the kitchen island and watched her work. “1:00 p.m. But we really don’t have to go,” I insisted. “I’m sure you didn’t imagine spending your Sunday in the suburbs.”
She poured the steaming liquid into a cup and scooted it closer to me. “Do you need cream or sugar?” She frowned. “How do I not know how you take your coffee?”
