Page 24 of A Pizza My Heart

“No. I haven’t been sleeping so hot. Turns out your brother’s couch is as uncomfortable as it is gross.”

I shudder at the thought of having to sleep on it.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure no one will notice. Besides, it’s not like you were just here yesterday or anything,” I say sarcastically.

“There’s that snark I missed.” He rolls his eyes. “I better get going. My date should be here any minute.”

Instead of heading toward the exit, he treks his way through the dining room, and my brows crease together, trying to piece together where he’s headed.

What is he…

“Wait!” I follow behind him, struggling to catch up to his long strides.“Is your date here?Again?”

“No!” he says quickly.Tooquickly. “Maybe,” he adds.

“Foster! You’re bringing your new date to the same place you brought your date last night? What the hell? You can’t do that!”

He shrugs, taking a seat at a table already set for two, another Beer Wars—this time The Hop Awakens—sitting in front of him. “Why not?”

“Because it’s tacky!”

“How? Neither of them will ever know.”

“I’ll know.”

“So?”

“So! You can’t do that.”

“Can too. Besides, I missed the pizza here.”

“You didn’t even order pizza,” I argue. “Thank god this isn’t my section. You’re wearing me out.”

“Actually,” Drew draws out, appearing next to me. “It is now. Your brother decided he liked the lighting on that side of the room more and switched it on the kiosk.”

“He liked thelightingmore? This isn’t amateur photographer hour.” Though Winston is far from an amateur photographer—my brother has mad skills—I’m annoyed. “I hate him, and you for letting it happen.”

“What? Don’t want to be my waitress again? Did I not tip well enough?”

I stare down at a grinning Foster. He knows he tipped me well.Toowell.

I could use that again…

I give him a phony sweet smile. “You know, you’re right. I don’t hate Winstonoryou, Drew. Because now I have a front-row seat to what I’m sure is going to be another LustStruck disaster.”

“You’re getting your dates off LustStruck? Why are you even bothering with dinner then? What a sucker. Don’t you know that’s a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am app?”

Foster groans at Drew’s very accurate description.

“See? I told you so,” I say.

“Go away. Both of you. My date will be here any moment.”

“No can do. I’m your waitress, and I amveryattentive to my customers.” We all know I’m full of crap. I’m the worst waitress ever. I pull my notepad from the front of my apron. “I see one of my colleagues has already taken care of your drink order. Can I start you off with some appetizers, or would you like to wait for your guest to arrive?”

“Wren…” he grits out, but his twitching lips betray him. I know he wants to laugh at my antics.

“Wait it is.” I close my book and tuck it back into my pocket. “Noted.”

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