He looked happy, Dee thought as she hopped off the kitchen table, joints aching from staying locked in one position too long. "Pizza sounds good."
It sounded like the recipe for being sick, but part of living a life of dissolution - as her mother called it - was constant want. For sex, for alcohol, for food.
She cleaned herself up shakily, finding her panties and tugging those on. Forgoing a shirt.
"Do you need the number?" She had it stored in her memory and phone - in that respect it took precedence over her parents' home number. t