Page 24 of Unforeseen Love

His eyes flick to mine and then back to his phone. “One of what?” he asks, pressing his tongue against his cheek.

I drop my fork in the container and sit back.

“You’re a pizza snob. I bet you even joined the great pineapple on pizza debate.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “I’m hardly a snob just because I think it’s wrong to have pineapple on pizza.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Okay, so have you ever eaten pineapple and cheese on sticks?”

Rubbing his hand over his chin, he grimaces. “Well, no but––”

I cut him off. “See? You’re a snob.”

Theo places his free hand on top of the table and leans in. “I assure you, I am far from being a snob.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Okay, so you don’t hate pineapple, but you just don’t like it on pizza?”

He clears his throat and stands to his full height. “I’ve never tried it,” he admits.

I can’t stop myself from smiling at that. “How do you know if you don’t like it?” I challenge.

He’s staring at me with a funny look on his face, and I suddenly feel self-conscious, until he finally breaks eye contact and shrugs, typing on his phone again. “It’s just wrong.”

“Order me a Hawaiian pizza and try a slice when it arrives.”

Glancing to me, his lips curve in a smirk. “Okay, but on one condition.”

“Which is?”

This time, I get a full megawatt smile with his perfectly straight teeth. I bet they’re natural too, not like my train tracks I had for almost three years.

“You’ll owe me, and when I come to collect, you can’t forfeit.”

Frowning, I watch him curiously. “Owe you what exactly?”

He taps his nose. “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he replies with a cocky grin.

I straighten in my chair and immediately shake my head. “What? Hell no.” After uploading a video of me on that damn app, I wouldn’t put anything past him.

“What’s the matter? Is little miss prim and proper Sienna Morgan a chicken?” he goads.

And for some reason, him using my full name has my hackles rising, even more than when he calls me Morticia.

I push to my feet and hold out my hand. “Deal.”

He reaches out and shakes my hand, sending a spark up my arm. “Deal,” he repeats, holding my stare. I quickly let go and rub my now sweaty palm over the hem of my top.

“Ordered,” he says and then goes and shuts himself in the bathroom.

I plonk myself down and wonder what the hell I’ve just agreed to.

When pizza arrives, he’s the one who goes to collect it while I wash my hands, and I hiss through my teeth. Between the sanitiser and constantly washing them, my skin is already cracking. I go to my room, grateful when I find my moisturiser.

Theo is at the sink, washing his hands, and he spots the tube in my hand. “Is that hand cream?”

I nod and he signals for it. I toss it towards him, and he catches it easily, showing off his muscled bicep. Rolling my eyes, I grab some plates, the pizza cutter wheel, and a knife and fork from the cutlery.

He scoffs from behind me as I walk to the table. “And yet, I’m the snob. Who the hell eats pizza with a knife and fork?”

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