Page 89 of A Pizza My Heart

He chuckles. “Dude, you spent countless hours with her on that beach. There’s no way any teenage boy would do that shit if a little bit of lust wasn’t involved.”

“Fair point. Does it bother you at all? The idea of us?”

“Nope. What the fuck kind of question is that? You’re my best friend. She’s my sister.” He spins his finger around in a circle. “Big fucking whoop. I’m not here for the dramatics of that bullshit bro-code shit. Can’t help who your heart digs.”

He says that last part quietly, like he has some experience in that area.

“Besides”—he gives me a sinister grin—“I think we both know I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her. She’s a twerp and annoying as shit half the time, but she’smytwerp. Feel me?”

I laugh, because I do feel him. My protectiveness of Wren might come from the complete opposite realm Winston’s does, but it’s protectiveness nonetheless.

I’d break the legs off anyone who dared to hurt her.

“Roger that, man.” I hold my fist out to him. “We cool?”

“Get the fuck out of here with that shit.” He shoves my hand away then stands, tossing the pen he was playing with on the desk and brushing past me. “Like we’d be anything else.”

“Sup, dillweed,” Wren says, gliding into the room and taking the seat her brother just vacated. “You guys having a powwow without me?”

“More like about you.” He stops in the doorway and shoots me a look. “I’m surrounded by morons.”

“What was that about?” Wren asks once we’re alone. “Why were you two talking about me?”

“I was asking Winston if he was cool with us doing this whole fake dating thing. Ya know, just in case we have a repeat of date one and you can’t keep your hands off me then things…progress.”

“What exactly do you think this is going to lead to?” she asks with a smirk, knowing exactly where I’m going with this. She drops her voice low. “Foster Marlett, do you think you’re going to…what was the phrase again? ‘Beat cheeks’ with me?”

My overeager dick jumps at the idea of Wren and me entangled in her sheets, and I have to will it not to get hard, something I’ve been having to doa lotlately when it comes to Wren.

“First, don’t say that. It doesn’t sound right leaving your lips. Second, after the other night…well, I’d be surprised if you didn’t just throw your panties at me next time I walk into the room.”

“We never said this would end in sex.”

“But we can both hope it does.”

She rolls her eyes and swings her focus to the computer screen in front of her. “We’ll see how I feel when we get to date five.”

“Date five? What’s so special about that?”

“Nothing.” She lifts a shoulder. “It’s just a personal rule of mine—no sex until we go on at least five dates.”

“Why five?”

“I feel it gives me sufficient time to get to know someone, decide if we’re sexually compatible.”

“Is there a timeline for these dates? Like one a week or something?”

“Hm…” She taps her chin. “I’ve never given that part much thought. So, no, probably not.”

“So you’re saying tomorrow I can take you to five different meals and they’d each count as a date and then we can just get down to the inevitable?”

“Foster…” she warns.

“What?” I say innocently. “It’s a valid question, especially when you know you want me so badly.”

“I do not.”

“My memories of you in my truck say otherwise.”

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