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I break the spell as I let him go and reach for the cheese. For a moment I can't look at him as I try to process what just transpired between us. I have far too many feelings for someone I barely know.
I watch him add alfredo sauce to his dough before sprinkling provolone and feta, but I can’t look him in the eyes. Instead, I focus on adding cheddar cheese to my pie before delicately placing ham on the whole pizza. He adds spinach to his, and I take some thinly-sliced jalapenos and sparingly sprinkle them before reaching for the pineapple. He stops all movement and stares at me, and I covertly meet his incredulous glance, noticing the disbelief and amusement in his eyes.
“Pineapple on pizza?” He sounds stunned... and playful.
“Yes, pineapple on pizza,” I say in my most matter-of-fact tone.
He shakes his head with a smile. “It’s official; you’re crazy,” he says, but I hear the affection in his tone.
“Or maybe you’re boring.” I’m just teasing, and he chuckles before leaning in.
My heart skips a beat as I realize he’s about to kiss me. I'd swear every bit of oxygen is sucked out of the room and I can’t catch my breath as he moves closer, his gaze locked on mine as his lips part.
I close my eyes, waiting for the kiss, only for him to whisper in my ear instead. “I guess we have another secret.”
And I feel stupid, realizing he never intended to kiss me at all. He was just leaning in to speak softly, as if we’re sharing an actual secret. So why do I feel so disappointed?
Because I wanted him to kiss me.
The answer is so obvious, but I don't want to face facts. I guess I didn't learn my lesson at all from Jake. I need to take things slow, guard my heart, and try not to get hurt again. Besides, isn't this a rebound relationship? Those never work out. I’m being silly.
I continue to berate myself as we finish up our pizzas and slip them into the oven. He's being fun and flirty and helpful, but my mood seems to have taken a nosedive... until I remind myself I’m supposed to be having fun.
I want to be happy in the present with him. Not worrying about my past or Jake or wondering what the future holds.
When our pizzas are done, we cut them up, put them on platters and take them out to the dining area. We sit and talk about life.
“What do you do for fun?” I ask, taking a seat.
He gives me a sideways glance. “Fun? Never heard of it.”
I giggle.
“I used to do things for fun, but now I'm too busy.” As he says the words, my heart goes out to him, but I completely understand what he means. Being an adult is very busy and very tiring. Sometimes I wonder if hobbies are just for children and teenagers.
“This,” he says, gesturing around us, “is the most fun I’ve had in years. And I’m only here because I was forced to take some time off.”
“Forced to take time off and you still worked most of the time. You’re terrible at this,” I say, picking up a piece of my ham, pineapple, jalapeno pizza. He places a slice of his spinach and feta cheese pizza on my plate and smiles at me.
“Brutally honest. I like that. And I like you.”
My heart slams in my chest as I take a bite of my screaming hot pizza, nearly burning off every taste bud I have as I suck cool air in and move the food around quickly to keep from giving myself third-degree tongue and cheek burns.
“I like you too,” I say when I finally manage to - hopefully discreetly - pelican down the bite of too-hot food. Given the way he's watching me, I have no doubt he watched my struggle and knows exactly what I was doing.
“You’re adorable,” he says.
Chapter Six
Damien
She has a way of making me forget.
Forget the bad things I’ve dealt with and the things I have yet to resolve. Forget about work, anger, and the resentment that’s been building in me for a huge portion of my life.
Sitting across the table from one another, enjoying our pizzas has to be one of the most relaxing times I’ve had for a while. I have always been a huge fan of pineapple on pizza, but that little extra spicy kick the jalapenos add elevates the dish in a way I never expected. And like the perfection of that addition, she adds something to my life that I can’t quite define or understand. A zest that makes everything I've dealt with up to this point worthwhile.
“You seem deep in thought.” As she says the words, she ducks her head, lifting her eyebrows.
