“Yeah, can I have a medium pizza with extra cheese and chili peppers and...” I looked over at Dorian and tapped him on his knee. “What did you want?”
“Are you serious?” he asked with wide eyes.
“Hold on.” I covered the part of the phone with the speaker holes on it. “What? Did you want me to go easy on the bill again?”
“You’re going to eat a whole pizza?”
“Oh, yeah. You didn’t know? It goes down in my stomach.”
I could tell he doubted me by the way he stared into my mouth as I laughed and shook his head.
“I’ve got to see this.”
“So you want one too?”
“Yeah, but no peppers.”
I lowered my voice to an extremely soft whisper.
“Pussy.”
He smiled.
“I’m allergic.”
When the pizza guy came to the door my stomach growled and we both went to the door.
“Hi. It’s going to be twenty-four fifty-eight.”
“Here you go, man.”
“You’re Dorian Pitts?”
“That’s what it says on my mailbox, yeah.”
“Man, those games in LA were off the hook. You were like somebody in a an alleyway. Tough as nails.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“And that fall. How’s the injury going?”
“As well as it could.”
“You NBA players sure do go through a lot of injuries to pay the bills, but with all the perks it’s got to be worth it, right?”
“The chartered flights and five star living is just the compensation for the hard work that we put on our bodies. Getting hurt, getting injured, pushing through all that. At the end of the day we’re responsible for entertaining the world and the more comfortable we are outside of playing ball, the more entertaining we will be.”
Inside, I looked at him with my chin tilted down and my hands opening my cardboard box.
“Ready?”
He did the same and glided his tongue over his lips.
“I’m ready.”
I grinned and bit down on my bottom lip.
“I’m ready too.”
He rubbed his palms together like he was warming them.
“Let’s go.”
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