SIXTEEN
No one said anything. For how long? No idea. Forever. A feeble knock on the door kicked them from pause.
“I have cash,” Zairn said.
By the time Roxie turned around, he was right next to her. She planted a hand on his bare chest to halt him. Thank goodness, he had put on sweats. Nothing else, but pants were something. Better than nothing.
“No,” she said, taking his wallet. “I’ll pay him. You stay here.”
Their eye contact communicated so much. There was an apology in his gaze, resolve too. Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it had.
Crossing the rest of the way, she squeezed between her friends to go around the door and hand cash to the delivery guy.
They exchanged money for food. “I don’t have change for—”
“Keep it,” Roxie said, closing the door. “Ever think of carry
