Page 57 of A Pizza My Heart

“I’m sorry, youforgetabout a squid on your butt? How? Does your wife never make fun of you for it?”

“Did,” he corrects. “Did she, and no, she didn’t.” He squeezes the back of his neck again. “She, uh, she never saw it.”

“But…it’s on your butt. How did she never see it?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead grimacing my way, cheeks heating when it’s clear his confession dawns on me.

She hasn’t seen his tattoo because she hasn’t seen his ass, which means she hasn’t seen him naked in alongtime.

“Oh.” The singular word drops from my lips in a whisper. “I see. That is an…interesting development.”

He pushes off the wall. “Now that I have thoroughly embarrassed myself twice…what the hell is on your head and why do I think I’ve seen my grandma wear one before?”

“Okay, rude. It’s a shower cap. Plenty of cool, young, hip people use them.”

“Right, right. Whatever you say.”

“Whatever.” I point down the hall. “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, maybe grab a real towel. I’ll be back out in five.”

“Towel. Clothes. Good thinking. Get going.”

But I don’t.

We stand here, neither of us making a move to leave.

I blink at him.

He blinks at me.

“Are you going to just stand there and watch me walk away with my butt hanging out?”

A grin overtakes his lips. “That was the plan.”

“Creep.”

He winks and I groan.

I don’t turn around, not wanting him to see my butt, and instead back down the hallway, still clutching the bath mat tightly to my body.

He watches every step I take in an excruciating way.

Eyes slowly trailing up my bare legs, pausing a bit too long where the mat ends. His eyes are steady and full of fire I want to play with.

Drop the mat,I can hear them beg.

I want to drop the mat. I want to drop itbadbecause watching him watch me makes my heart race in a manner I’m not familiar with.

It’s erratic. Wild. Uninhibited.

Pausing, I let him stare.

It turns out I like Foster’s gaze on me a whole hell of a lot more than I ever expected.

“What did you come back here for anyway?” I force myself to say, because if I don’t, I’ll let this makeshift towel slip right out of my grip.

With a slow drag, he trains the fire on my own eyes.

“Peanut butter.”

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