Duncan is sulking. Duncan LOVES pizza. Possibly more than he loves women and he didn't get any of either yesterday. I try to explain but he's a closed door. A big sulking four-year-old of a door, granted.
It was...private pizza, Poet.
You could have put on clothes and made it public pizza. Not like you can eat a whole one and I saw two of them go up there.
Woah. I can't eat pizza naked. Are you serious?
Yeah, that's too dangerous, man. Lochlan is laughing as he leans over and steals a piece of toast. I glare at him.
But you guys are super-skilled. You're probably trained in naked pizza eating in addition to the fire kissing and high wire shit.
That's transfer of a flame and I rarely do that with her. Besides, Ben ate a whole one to himself. Lochlan justifies so hard he pulls something.
He ate the box too, Dunk. I confirm.
Yup. Loch confirms my confirmation.
Still though. You couldn't give me one piece? Just one public pizza slice for me?
Nope. That was private pepperoni.
Okay, for the record I was not having an entire conversation revolving around a euphemism. I was talking about actual dinner.
So was I! The mushrooms were private too. I lick my lips.
And the sausage bits. Tasty. Loch offers with a sly smile. I burst out laughing.
And the cheese, right? Can't forget the cheese. Remind me not to have conversations with you two when you're getting along. Duncan gets up, takes my other piece of toast and leaves the room.
