Page 27 of A Pizza My Heart

“He’s good people. I kept trying to persuade him to move out here with me, but he wouldn’t do it. Still trying to talk him into it, though. I’m convinced it’ll be the best move for him and his daughter. They need a fresh start as bad as I do.”

“Is that why you’re back? For a fresh start?”

“Yep.”

“And how does that work?” She purses her rosy lips, and I try my best not to stare at them for an inappropriate amount of time. “Moving back home to ‘start over’?”

I know I need to choose my words carefully because if I don’t, Wren will start asking questions I’m not looking to answer just yet.

“I guess in the technical sense, it doesn’t, but I never felt likemeon the West Coast. Everything out there felt…fake. Forced. Here I don’t have to pretend. I can just be me. Which, after living like that for four years…it feels fresh.”

“You were never good at pretending,” she says.

I want to laugh because the only thing I’ve done with her since I was eighteenispretend.

Pretend I didn’t feel anything for her.

Pretend it didn’t kill me every time she started dating some jerk who was no fucking good for her.

Pretend she wasn’t everything to me.

Pretend it didn’t gut me to leave her.

Pretend I’m over her.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

“Now that you’re back, how do you feel?” she asks. “Better? Does it feel like you hoped it would?”

No.“Yes.”

“Good.”

She steals another fry.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at home surfing your app and trying to find another date for tomorrow?”

A grin curves my lips, and her mouth drops open.

“You’re kidding!” I shake my head. “You already have one?”

I nod. “I’m always one step ahead. Gotta be prepared for the worst.”

“What happened to the power of positive thinking?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t still hoping for the best.”

I stand and reach for my wallet, grab enough to cover the bill and a hefty tip, and then push my chair in.

“I do need to get going though. I have another early morning with your dad.”

Her lips pull upward. “And some laundry to do.”

“I’m requesting a different waitress tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she says.

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