Page 95 of A Pizza My Heart

Which, to be fair, I totally am.

Did I just completely screw this up? Did I take it too far? Did I—

No. Fuck that.

I’m going after what’s mine.

Slice Fifteen

Wren

You.

I don’t know what to say.

So I run.

I rush through the crowded club, needing to get away, because what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Me.

Question after question bounces through my mind.

Why did I like his answer so much? Why did it make my heart hammer in my chest with anticipation? Why does the idea of Foster and me not terrify me?

What if…what if we didn’t pretend anymore?

I shake my head, wanting to slap myself, because let’s be honest here—I haven’t been pretending for a single second.

Every moment I spend with Foster is real. It’s me being me, him being him. This isn’t pretend. It’s just prolonging the inevitable.

And that excites me more than it scares me.

I’m in such a haze, my breaths coming in sharp spurts, feeling disoriented and confused, that I run smack into the door.

I grab the handle, twisting and turning as I try to get it to open because I need to not be here right now. I need—

I freeze the moment he steps into the small space.

I don’t have to turn around; I know it’s him.

I can feel it. My body feels it, my fingertips tingling with the desire to touch his skin again, lips burning to press against his.

He steps into me, his body fitting perfectly to mine.

How is that possible?How can I already feel him everywhere?

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Fright. That’s what I was feeling.

I’m scared.

I don’t want things between us to change, and the moment we throw more than kisses into the mix, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.

I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

“Foster, I—”

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