Page 78 of A Pizza My Heart

We fall quiet, letting everything sink in, our eyes never straying from the other’s.

She looks confused, concerned.

But—and this could just be wishful thinking on my part—there seems to be a glimmer of interest in her blue stare.

“’Sup, losers? Whatcha want to drink?”

The moment is broken, our waiter choosing that moment to grace us with his presence.

“So professional, Winston.” Wren rolls her eyes. “Is that how you talk to all your customers?”

“Eh, depends, but you’re not real customers, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“We are too.”

He gives her a disbelieving look.

“We are!” she argues. “We’re here on a date. Foster’s gonna put money in your hand later. Money is being exchanged for goods and services. We count.”

“You don’t. Nice try, bud.”

“I’m not your bud, pal,” Wren smarts off.

“Yeah, well, I’m not your pal, butt sniffer.”

“I’m not a butt sniffer, penis wrinkle.”

Winston bursts into laughter. “Did you just call me a penis wrinkle?”

“Yes, but only because you’re acting like one.”

“Whatever. I’m bringing you waters. Your date is too poor to afford anything else.”

He stalks away, shaking his head at his sister.

“I missed you two together,” I say once he’s out of earshot, because the fucker would totally hold that shit against me. “I can’t believe you called him a penis wrinkle.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t react when I told him we were on a date.”

“I’m not sure he believes it’s real.”

“Or”—Winston interrupts, setting our waters down—“he’s just not surprised by it.”

“Two things here: where the heck did you come from?”

“Our mother, Wren. You were there too.”

“Winston…”

He lifts a shoulder. “Fine. I stole these from Drew. She should really watch her tray more closely.”

“You just stole other customers’ waters?”

“If it’s any consolation, they looked very hydrated.”

“You are a horrible server!”

“I agree. Dad should fire me. What’s your number two?”

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