Page 55 of A Pizza My Heart

Have his arms always been so big? My lungs were working overtime to stay ahead of him on the beach. If I hadn’t, I knew I’d have spent the entire time watching the way his sweat-stained shirt clung to his body. Then I would have tripped again, and we’d have never made it back here.

He hasn’t always been this in shape, right? I would have noticed.

Though I’m beginning to realize there’s a lot about Foster I’ve never noticed before.

His full lips…and how kissable they look.

His sage green eyes and how responsive they are.

Or even his—

No!No, no,no.

I cannotand willnotthink of Foster while I’m naked in the shower. I’ve already thought about him enough this morning…and his lips. His totally kissable-looking lips. They’re—no!

No more Foster and naughty thoughts. Because it’sFosterfor crying out loud. Quit it, Wren.

I push away all the wicked thoughts trying to flutter through my mind and rush through my routine. Stepping out of the shower—in record time, thank you very much—I reach for my towel, which hangs right beside the framed photograph of the night sky.

Only my fingers collide with bare wall.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I chant over and over, panic climbing up my throat.

The one day I decide to do laundry before my run, andthisis what happens.

I’m stranded naked with Foster in my house.

And because it can’t just be one thing…not only did I decide to do laundry this morning, I was in such a rush to shower away all the awkward Foster and I have managed to manifest in the past half hour that I forgot to grab clothes to change into.

Today is so awesome already.

I could ask Foster to bring me a towel and slip it past the door, but with how awkward we’ve already been together this morning, I can’t bring myself to go there.

I push the curtain open and try to shake myself off as best as I can, because I’m apparently going to have to make a run for it. I mean, my bedroom is right at the end of the hall and he’s all the way on the other side of the house helping himself to some peanut butter.

My feet sink into the soft rug sitting outside the tub, and a genius idea hits me. I peel the mat from the floor and wrap it around me, soft side in.

Okay, you can do this, Wren. You’re covered. You’re quick. You got this.

Carefully, I pull the bathroom door open and peek my head outside, looking down the hallway to ensure the coast is clear.

I hear Foster rooting around in the kitchen and decide if I’m going to make a run for it, now’s my chance.

“You can do this,” I encourage myself.

Blowing out a heavy breath, I slide out of the bathroom and begin my escape.

“I have so many questions right now.”

“JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH!” I squeal, my improvised towel nearly falling from my body.

I scramble to hold it in place as I spin around to find Foster standing at the end of the hallway, a grin covering his stupid full lips.

“What the hell, Foster!”

“What the hell, Foster? More like,What the hell, Wren?Are you wearing a bath mat for a towel? Did you not feel the breeze on your bare butt cheeks?”

“First, don’t say butt cheeks. It’s weird. Second, Iforgotmy towel.”

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