Page 68 of A Pizza My Heart

Sleep is soundingreallygood right about now.

“Yo, Birdie.”

I swing toward Foster, who’s striding my way sporting a triumphant grin.

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look smug.”

“Damn straight I do.” He points to his face again. “Told ya this face you think is so cute would work.”

“I never said it was cute.”

“You never said it wasn’t either.” He stops in front of me, cupping his hand around his ear. “Let’s hear it.”

“Thank you.”

“No, no, not that.”

“Thank you…a lot?”

“Try again.”

“Um…” I reach out and pat him on the head. “Good job?”

“Nope.”

I pat at my pockets. “I don’t have any suckers on me right now, so I hope you’re not waiting for a treat.”

“I wanna hear it.”

He’s still standing there, hand up to his ear, looking stupid as can be.

“Want to hearwhatexactly?”

“That I’m cute.”

I shove him away. “Not happening.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me toward him. I crash into his hard chest, my body molding to his in ways it hasn’t for years. We’ve never shied away from touching one another. My family has always been very hands-on, huggy types, so it comes natural to me, and it’s been that way with Foster since the beginning too.

But now? It feels…different.

Like it did earlier today with him standing so close.

I can feel my heart rate pick up, can hear my breaths quicken. My brain begins to short-circuit.

“Say it,” he tells me. “Or I’ll do that thing you love.”

“That sounds dirty, Foster.”

His laughter vibrates through my body, and I’m grown enough to acknowledge how good it feels.

I’m also a little scared.

“I can make it dirty, Birdie.” He laughs again. “Ha, I rhymed!” He’s mocking my words from this morning.

“Are you finished?”

“Will you quit with the double entendres, woman?”

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