Page 39 of A Pizza My Heart

“Dammit, Brad. I’ll—”

“I got it!” Drew interjects, dropping the utensils she’s working on and hustling off to the back room.

I glower at her retreating form, wanting to shout that she’s a traitor for leaving me here alone with Foster after dropping that bomb, but I’m beginning to think she planned this whole thing, even Brad’s fall. She probably greased the floor.

We continue to roll silverware in silence, the scraping of metal against metal grating on my nerves more and more as the seconds tick by.

After what feels like hours, though I know it’s only been a minute or two, Foster speaks.

“Do you really think Drew’s idea is that bad?”

“No,” I confess quietly.

“So I’m justthatrepulsive to you?”

“Yes.”

He drops the knife he’s holding and reaches into his pocket, pulling his phone out. He scrolls around for a second before he starts typing.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Just noting this new revelation.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Such a smartass.”

“I learned it from you. I was an angel before you damn Daniels kids came into my life.”

“Angel my ass. You corruptedus, made us sneak into PG-13 movies all the time.”

“We were thirteen!” he argues.

“Age-wise, sure. Maturity-wise? I’m pretty sure we were all still nine, and we’re barely thirteen now.”

He laughs. “Fair point.”

Scrape, scrape, fold, roll, stick.

Scrape, scrape, fold, roll, stick.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

“Will you, Birdie?” he asks quietly. He seems…vulnerable.

Earnest.

“It’s been hard getting back out there. I’d like to try with someone I’m familiar with, someone who won’t judge me…too harshly,” he adds with a light chuckle. “Besides, Drew’s right—it will give us some time to catch up with each other. Maybe we could pretend we’re strangers even, start over.”

“You feel like a stranger sometimes.”

“I do to myself sometimes too.”

I steal a glance his way. His lips are turned downward, and I’m dying to ask him what makes him feel that way.

But it’s Foster—when he wants to talk, he’ll talk.

“You also said you were good at dating, and clearly I’m horrible at it. I need a coach, someone I know and feel comfortable with.”

Teach him how to date? It’s outrageous. Completely stupid.

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