“Just passing through and thought I’d say hello.”

He took a grocery bag from me, set it on the counter, and emptied it.

“There are these things called vegetables,” he said. “You ever hear about them?”

“If I want vegetables I eat at my parents’ house. And I have baby carrots in the fridge.”

“They’re for your rat.”

“He’s a hamster.”

Diesel opened the box of Frosted Flakes and took a handful.

“You never just stop in to say hello,” I said. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a year. What’s up?”

“There’s a disturbance in the force. Thought I’d check it out.”

“That’s a little vague.”

Diesel shrugged. “It’s what I do, sweetie pie.”

“Right. You weren’t planning on doing it here, were you? Like in my apartment?”

“I’d rather be under a palm tree somewhere, but yeah, I’m stuck here for a while.”

“No. You are not staying here.”

“Sure I am. I always stay here. You’d be heartbroken if I stayed somewhere else.”

“I’d be overjoyed.”

“You need to work on your hostess skills,” Diesel said. “The whole cranky thing is a major turnoff.”

“Morelli is coming over for dinner tonight. I don’t want you here when he walks in.”

“Honey, that’s hard to believe. No one would come here for dinner. You only own one pot.”

“I own several pots and a fry pan.”

Diesel grinned. “You’re going to give him that frozen mac and cheese, aren’t you?”

“The mac and cheese is for me. Morelli is bringing dinner.”

“Okay, I’m in.”

“You aren’t in. There’s no in for you. He’s bringing dinner, and he’s spending the night.”

“You need to change that plan. I’m not crazy about sharing a bed with Morelli.”

I’d been down this road before with Diesel. He was an immovable object. Too big and strong to push around. Too intelligent to out-psych. He was inexplicably likable, and he smelled like fresh-out-of-the-oven gingerbread. He also left as abruptly and as easily as he appeared. He was an okay guy to know, but a romantic attachment would be a disaster.

“Okay. Great. You can have my apartment, and I’ll temporarily move in with Morelli,” I said.

“Not gonna happen,” Diesel said.

“How do you know?”

“Spidey sense.”

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