Evan pulled up to the drive-thru, gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. His eyes darted to the passenger seat where Paul sat, his seat reclined, half-dressed and pouting.
“What are you ordering, man?” Evan asked, trying to sound casual, but his gaze briefly flicked downward before snapping back to Paul’s face.
“Double-double, I guess,” replied a melodic voice, nothing like Paul’s usual gruffness. It was insane to hear Abby’s soft inflection mixed with Paul’s grumpiness.
“You sure? Didn’t Gwen do some vegetarian thing? Could mess with your stomach.”
Paul’s glare was pure venom, clearly, the breakup was affecting him. “I’m still me, dude. I don’t give a shit about her tofu garbage. Just get me the damn burger.”
“Alright, alright,” Evan held up his hands in mock surrender, though he couldn’t help but smirk. “Just don’t blame me if your new, dainty stomach can’t handle it.”
As the line inched forward, the silence between them grew. Evan couldn’t stop thinking about the absurdity of it all. He was familiar with some of Gwen’s witchy shit, but seeing Paul storm out of Gwen’s house in her body, bra straining over curves that didn’t belong to him. The pretty face only made the whole thing more alluring.
They finally reached the window, Evan rattled off their requests. Then as they settled into another stretch of quiet, he glanced over at Paul. “So, uh, did she at least leave you any clothes? Because right now, you look like you’re auditioning for a lingerie commercial.”
Paul shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, she didn’t,” he responded bluntly.
“Fair enough,” Evan said, his gaze lingering a moment too long on his friend. “Not sure I’ve got anything that would fit you anyway.”
