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habit,” she whispers beside my ear.
    I smack her on the ass “The hell you talkin’ about, woman? I never shed a tear.”
    She flips her hair over her shoulder and walks to the steps. Swinging around the banister, she begins to make her way upstairs “Yeah, whatever makes you feel better at the end of the day, baby. I’m going to take a shower. Order some Chinese?”
    Are you kidding me? We ate dinner not even 4 hours ago and she’s wanting more food? “Chinese?” I ask.
    “Yes,” she yells downstairs.
    “Anything particular?” I wonder where in the hell she puts all of the food that she eats. She had just as much to eat at dinner as I did, and I’m still full.
    “No. Anything is fine.”
    Okay, why in the hell do women do this? We all know that ‘anything’ is never fine. I’m barely twenty and I’ve already learned this. I head into the kitchen and rummage through the cabinets until I find the take-out menu. Opening the menu, I pick out Allie’s usual. Fuck being spontaneous and trying to surprise her; it never works. At least with food it doesn’t. She’s a picky eater. And since I don’t have much time left to spend with her, I don’t want to spend tonight arguing about how I should’ve known she wouldn’t eat orange chicken, when she specifically said anything would be fine. I take my phone out and call to place my order. I order Al her usual sweet and sour chicken, lo mein noodles, spring roll, and crab Rangoon. I don’t bother ordering anything for myself, because she never eats all of hers. So if I happen to become hungry later, which I doubt, I’ll just eat her left overs.
    After I order, I head back into the living room. I listen closely and hear that the water is still running, so I decide to rearrange the living room. I push the coffee table to the side of the room, run upstairs and grab Allie’s comforter and pillows. I head back downstairs and spread them across the floor. I switch off the lights, take the matches from on top of the mantel above the fireplace, and light the candles around the living room. I hide the remote so Allie won’t turn on the television and distract us. I want to soak in these last few days I have with her. I do not want to spend our time flipping through a bunch of nothing on TV or watching some sappy-ass love story like The Vow that we’ve seen over ten times. I just want to hold her, talk with her, and simply love her.
    Just as I finish setting up, the water to her shower cuts off. I run back into the kitchen and grab two cans of diet Pepsi. As I make my way back into the living room, the doorbell sounds just as Allie is making her way down the steps. “I’ll get it,” she insists.
    “Um, no, you won’t.” She is half-naked, wearing a tight white see-through tank, no bra, and spandex shorts. There is no way in hell I’m going to let her greet anyone looking as sexy as sin. No. Fucking. Way. “I got the money. I’ll get it. You go on over and wait for me,” I demand. She stalks past me, rolling her eyes, and throws me a look of disgust. Great, so much for not arguing. I am not a controlling douche. I simply do not want to catch a charge for beating the living shit out of a delivery guy for ogling my girl. It wouldn’t be his fault; he wouldn’t be able to look away. Her beauty is hypnotizing.
    I open the door, and just as I suspected, a teenage delivery boy greets me. Based on his looks, he doesn’t get much action. I’m sure his eyes would’ve had a field day exploring Allie’s glorious body. I hand him his money through the cracked door and take the bags from his hands. I close the door and make my way over to the cover that I spread out for us. Allie sits with her arms crossed under her breasts and her eyes glaring straight through me. “If looks could kill...” I say, kneeling down and taking my place next to her. She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can let out a sound, I speak up, “Listen, I was not trying to tell you what