Page 4 of Love By the Slice

Laughing, Greg went to the cooler. “Anything for you.” He paused, probably thinking about cleanup afterward. “Maybe not the shaking part.”

Rowan called, “Thirty seconds.”

The phone gave a tiny window on one of the largest cities in the world. A million people had crowded into Times Square, and from there they’d crowded onto Greg’s phone screen. Standing behind her, Greg felt very present, and Shelly whispered, “They’re really crammed in there,” because the only thing she could think of was how close he was standing to her.

Rowan started counting down with the numbers on the screen as the ball began its descent. Shelly and Greg joined in, just the three of them shouting the countdown in an otherwise-empty pizza parlor.Nine. Eight. Seven.

That gorgeous pizza-cook behind her shifted his weight and was even closer. She and a guy she’d been crushing on were crowded together like in Times Square.

Six. Five. Four.

He had that silly can of soda in his hand, and too late, Shelly realized what happened when the countdown reached zero.

Three!

Fireworks would go off.

Two!

The crowd would scream.

One!

Couples would kiss.

“Happy New Year!” shouted the announcer.

Shelly turned to Greg, and she kissed him on the mouth.

It was mutual. She knew it was mutual and she also knew it didn’t matter to him at all because he was only imitating what they were doing in New York. Their own tiny Times Square, and their own countdown, and their fake soda, and their little fake kiss to go along with it.

Rowan cheered, and Greg stepped back with a nervous laugh, then offered Rowan a fist-bump. Shelly did the same.

Wow. Wow, and, oh, ouch.

Greg said, “Happy New Year!” On his screen popped up a text saying the same. Shelly didn’t look to see who it was from. In her own pocket, her phone vibrated. Probably Ezra.

Her head reeled. She’d kissed Greg.

Finally.

Happy New Year to her.

If only she could make him mean it.

CHAPTER THREE

ROWAN LEFT WITH four slices of pizza in a bag, and Greg wondered just how bad the kid’s life was.

Shelly left for Ezra’s apartment. He shut down the ordering system at a quarter after midnight and did all the closing duties. The pizzeria would remain closed for New Year’s Day, and that was just as well because it would give him time to figure out if kissing Shelly was about to cost him his job, his friend, and maybe a black eye.

She’d been willing. She’d turned to him and wrapped her arms around him, and he’d kissed her because her mouth was right there and, yeah, she was kissable. He’d known she was kissable all along, but tonight she’d proven it. It hadn’t been an all-out passionate thing, but she also hadn’t pulled right off him. Were there classifications for different kinds of kisses? Your mom kissed you goodbye before putting on your raincoat for the first day of kindergarten, and that was one kind, but then there was opposite end of the spectrum, where the kiss meant a whole lot of clothes were about to come off. This hadn’t been either.

Friends didn’t kiss on the mouth. And it hadn’t ben a quick peck on the lips, either. She’d hugged him, and it lasted a good two seconds.

A really good two seconds.

Greg checked his phone. Ezra had texted that he and Lacey were still selling pizzas and would probably return close to one o’clock.

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