Chapter 4 #2
“Stop shaking your head at me! Have you ever even tried it?”
Connor fake shivers as if the thought alone is giving him nightmares. “Heck no. I would not put myself through that.”
Mrs. Lombardi clears her throat, causing the two of us to turn her way again.
“That’ll be $22.31, Connor.” She smiles at my newest enemy, and before I can pay for my own, Connor hands her some cash.
“Keep the change.”
“Grazie.”
I follow Connor to an empty table along the front window of the shop. “I could’ve paid for my own. This isn’t a date or anything.”
Connor chuckles and then pulls a chair out for me.
“You don’t need to pull my chair out. I just said this wasn’t a date.”
He doesn’t budge and keeps a hold on my chair. Scoffing, I reluctantly take a seat and throw my hands out. “Happy?”
Connor scooches my chair in and leans down, whispering in my ear, “Very.”
The single word sends shivers down my spine. I’m grateful when he doesn’t join me at the table, and I watch as he walks back toward the counter to wait for our food, my gaze drifting down his body.
There’s just something about a hockey butt that demands your full attention.
My eyes are still locked on his ass when he turns and leans his back against the wall near the register. When I finally look up to his face, I see his eyes are already trained on me, a knowing grin on his face.
Frustrated that he caught me checking out his butt, I turn in my seat but keep my eye on his reflection in the window. He’s still looking at me, smiling, when Mrs. Lombardi calls his name and hands him our pizzas.
As soon as Connor sits down across from me and flashes me his boyish grin, butterflies take flight in my stomach. I know deep within my bones that I’m in big trouble, already crushing on a boy I barely even know.
Struggling to swallow, I mutter a quiet “thanks” when he hands me my pizza. Opening the top of the box, I inhale deeply through my nose as the delicious smell invades my space yet again.
When I open my eyes, Connor’s hazel gaze is locked on me and he has yet to touch his own food.
His constant attention is something I’m not used to outside of the hockey rink.
I don’t lack self-esteem but being a female hockey player doesn’t really make me a hot commodity when it comes to guys.
Most of the boys back home hated the fact that I was better than them at hockey or didn’t understand my obsession.
But Connor doesn’t seem to fall into either of these groups.
I bite my lip and watch as he closes his eyes and inhales a sharp breath. His reaction has me feeling very confident, and I chuckle to myself before nodding at the box in front of him.
“Are you going to open yours and show me the pizza you get so often that the owner has memorized your order?”
Connor’s eyes fly open and he places both hands on top of his box.
“Only if you promise to try a piece.”
Raising an eyebrow, I level him with a look. “You want me to try a piece of your pizza after you basically just told me how disappointed you were in me for putting pineapple on mine?”
He shrugs as if it makes complete sense to him. “That’s exactly the reason I want you to try mine. So you can finally know what good pizza tastes like.”
I shake my head at his ridiculousness, but fail miserably hiding the smile on my face.
“I’ll only try a slice of yours if you try mine.”
Connor makes a fake gagging noise, and I kick his shin under the table.
“Ouch! Fine! But you have to try mine first.”
Reaching into my box, I find the smallest piece and pull it out. “Absolutely not. We’ll try them at the same time. I don’t trust you one bit, so I’m going to feed you like a child to make sure you actually try it.”
Connor finds a piece for me to try and we both raise the slices into the air. Then, simultaneously, we lean forward until our mouths are inches away from the food.
“You ready?” I ask in challenge.
He takes a dramatic breath and then looks me dead in the eye. “On the count of three?”
I nod, and then together we count.
“One. Two. Three.”
Opening my mouth, I inch forward until I can feel the heat of the pizza on my lips. Neither of us bite down, and we begin chuckling at the same time.
Raising an eyebrow at Connor, he groans and bites down on my pizza. Feeling victorious, I squeal and then take a bite of the piece Connor is holding out to me.
A plethora of flavors burst on my tongue as I try to distinguish what they are. It’s definitely a meat lover’s pie, with bacon, pepperoni, and sausage dominating my palate. It’s not until I taste banana peppers that a moan escapes me.
Clasping a hand over my mouth, I begin shaking my head. “Oh my god, you did not hear me do that.”
My eyes fly to Connor. His eyes are wide now as he continues to chew.
Wanting to change the subject as fast as I can, I blurt out, “What do you think?”
He continues chewing on the bite he took as he tilts his head back and forth.
When I go to pull my arm back that’s holding the slice, his hand flies out and grips my wrist. Slowly, he pulls my arm and pizza back until it’s inches from his mouth.
I watch as he finally swallows the food he’s been chewing.
With his eyes locked on mine, he rubs his thumb against my wrist, and in the most flirtatious voice I’ve ever heard he says, “It’s not horrible.”