Paying for pizza-1

“Pizza delivery,” he said. He had long delicate lashes and pale blue eyes. He thrust out the stack of thin cardboard boxes.

Marley closed her mouth. Her attraction to the pizza guy felt undignified, cheap.

Rousing herself, she snarled, “What took so long?” She hadn’t meant to snap, but between the shame she felt over her fascination with his looks and the woozy feelings in her head, she couldn’t help it. She reminded herself to eat some satisfying protein after she got the k**s their meal.

“I was stuck in traffic,” he said. He raised one shoulder and made a sheepish expression. “I’m really sorry.”

Marley took the pizzas from him and told him to remove his shoes. He kicked off his flip flops and followed her into the house. She stopped in the den and told him to wait. He moved toward the couch.

“Stop!” Marley barked.

He widened his eyes at the tone of her voice.

“Turn around,” Marley said.

“Turn around?” He asked, making a skeptical face. Even as he said it, he started a hesitant one-hundred-eighty degree turn. Marley felt a little awkward at the brusque way she was treating him, but she wanted to make sure he didn’t ruin her father’s couch.