Page 58 of A Pizza My Heart

That rasp, the raw want grating over each syllable…

“Huh?”

“Peanut butter,” he repeats. “You’re out.”

“Oh.” Another whisper.

I take a step away.

And then another.

His eyes don’t leave me, and I don’t mind.

I’ve never walked so slowly in my life. I should move. Ineedto move. I need to get out of here. But I can’t.

What the hell is happening with me…with us? Is it because of the whole fake dating thing? Is that why we’re acting like morons?

Foster chuckles and clears his throat. I startle at the sudden sound, and it breaks the daze I’m in.

He gives himself a visual shake and pastes on a fake smile. He might have been out of my life for the past four years, but I know a phony smile from Foster when I see one.

“I think so,” he says.

“Crap, I said that out loud, huh?”

“Yep, but it needed to be said. We’re being dumb and that’s…well, it’s dumb. We need to pretend like I’m not going to woo you later.”

It’s my turn to laugh, and my shoulders relax for the first time since he stepped foot inside my house.

“Youwoome?” I wave a hand. “Dream on.”

“Oh, I’ll woo you all right. You’re going to beswooningwhen I’m done with you.”

“Highly unlikely.”

“Highly likely. It’s so weird how you always get words mixed up. We should work on that.”

“Well, now that we’redating…” I lift a shoulder. “We’ll be spending plenty of time together. We can work on it.”

His long legs carry him toward me, a cocky grin playing on his lips.

He doesn’t stop until he’s only about six inches away, and then he bends ever so slightly. I crane my neck to look up at him, feeling my own lips pull into a smile.

“I’m gonna date you so hard, Wren.”

Not fake date me.

Dateme.

I don’t know if the phrasing was intentional or not, but either way, it makes my heart race in a conspicuous way.

And I’m not sure what to do about it.

Slice Eight

Foster

Isaw her ass.

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