Craving Scarlett

|16|. The Best Defence is Offence

"So are you going to let me in or..." He petered off, glancing at her hesitantly. He shuffled from foot to foot like he usually does when he's nervous. This was not giving me high hopes for this conversation.

I backed up, yanking the door wider as I flashed him a big, fake pearly smile.

Tom grimaced as he set the pizza on the cocktail table. "Stop making that face, Scar. You look like a constipated emoji."

There was a beat of silence, two, three, then...

"You stupid idiot!" I exclaimed joyfully, launching myself at him. "I've missed your stupid face!"

I clung to him, embracing him tightly. He chuckled holding me just as tight. My best friend really was here. Sure, I had Mary and Venita but they don't know me as well as Tom does. He has been there all my life and always will. I squeezed him tighter, reassuring myself that he really was here and cracking stupid jokes just like old times.

"Too tight. Too tight. You're choking me, Scar. I haven't given birth to children to continue my legacy yet so unchoke me, will ya?"

Laughter burst from me. I had missed him and his dramatic self. I let go of him though and settled for punching his left arm.

He let out an impish whine, clutching the hand in mock hurt. "That actually hurt Scar," he mumbled sullenly.

I eyed him. "Really?"

"Yeah." Then he released his arm shrugging. "As bad as that time when you hit me with a rubber duck when we were seven. It maimed me for life, I can barely walk," he deadpanned me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you and besides, I had a perfectly good reason for hitting you. You insulted Mr. Pie! I should have killed you!" It was something I was really considering doing right now. Just remembering how he used to tease me when we were little, made me incensed.

Was it weird that I had considered killing two of my friends in the space of a few days?

"I didn't insult your Mr. Pie." He cringed while saying it. "I just called him what he was. An ugly, fat, grumpy old teddy bear."

I gasped. He did not just say that.

"And can we please stop referring to it like it's an actual person?"

I gasped again.

Tom rolled his eyes as if I was the dramatic one. He grabbed the box of pizza and sat down on the couch, and tried to open it.

Note the keyword there tried. I dove after him and snatched the box from him before he could though. He stared at me agape and I rocked back on my heels, giving him a serene smile.

"How did you-you know what, never mind. Just give me back my pizza." He held out his hand to me, arching his stupid brows.

I wagged my finger at him. "No can do bro. You bought this pizza for me and now it's mine so I get to decide who eats and who doesn't." As if on cue, his stomach grumbled and Tom's face turned an amazing shade of tomato red. I let a slow, wicked smirk take over my mouth. I was going to have fun with this.

I kicked back on the sofa, crossing my legs languidly as Tom watched my every movement with narrowed eyes. I opened the box of pizza and smiled, a real smile this time, when I looked inside. My tongue watered. It was my absolute favourite-pepperoni with extra cheese and chicken toppings.

I dipped my hand in and abducted a slice of delicious, mouth watering unhealthy junk, and torturously, agonizingly slowly took a rich bite. I closed my eyes in ecstasy, taking my time with swallowing. I was in heaven. Pure heaven. I heard a loud groan from in front of me and I couldn't resist the urge to smirk.