Page 28 of Wildest Dreams

“White,” I say, taking the chilled bottle and putting it in the fridge to save for later.

He laughs. “You do have a knife and pizza pan, right?”

“Yes, but not much else.” I get the pizza pan from the drawer under the stove and retrieve the knife from the one kitchen drawer I have. “What do you want me to do?” I ask.

“Talk to me.”

I ask about his day and he tells me how the table reads went. Apparently, Marina was late, and there’s pressure on him from the studio to pretend to date her for publicity. I feel a pang in my gut when he adds that last bit. I can’t compete with someone like her.

His phone buzzes while he’s cooking and I see her name flash on the screen before he silences and pockets it.

“What are you going to do about the studio wanting you to pretend to date?” I ask, watching him cut up mushrooms and peppers.

“Ignore them. There’s not much they can do about it. Dating Marina is not in my contract. Besides, there’s someone else I want to date, and any inch I budge on the whole Marina thing could jeopardize that.”

“Oh!” I say, feigning ignorance. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

He smirks and cuts his eyes to me. He’s moved on to chopping onions and he’s teary. Even my eyes are twinging a little and I’m not the one standing over them. He tries wiping his face with his tight shirt sleeve, but his cheeks are still wet. Without thinking, I reach up to wipe the tears from his skin. We’re so close I can feel him breathing. I move my hand away slightly, then change my mind and return it to his face.

You can do this, I tell myself.It’s time to move on. This is a guy you like. Just go with it.

We lock eyes and he turns his body towards me. Wrapping his hands around my waist, he bends down to kiss me. When our lips touch, I feel jolts of electricity run through my body and out the tips of my toes.

He pulls back and stands up straight, never taking his eyes off me.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

I nod, too stunned to say anything. My lips are still tingling and my skin is prickling with goosebumps. That was magical, like a bomb went off inside my body.

He leans for another kiss. This time I wrap my arms around him and pull him in, so close I have to remind myself to breathe. We’re lost in the moment and the whole world falls away.

A loud rumble cuts the silence of the room—my stomach screaming for food. I can’t believe I forgot to eat lunch.

Pierre pulls away and looks at me with a quizzical expression. “Are you okay?”

I blush. “I’m fine. I didn’t eat lunch. I’m s?—”

He raises his eyebrows like a parent about to scold a child.

“I’m so not going to apologize?”

He laughs. “Good. Now if you’d keep your hands off me, I could make this pizza and get you fed.”

I know my face is bright red despite the makeup. “Fair enough.”

I lean against the fridge and watch him finish chopping the veggies. Once he’s done, he spreads the dough across the pan, swirls some jarred pizza sauce over it, and sprinkles on a generous layer of three different cheeses before topping it with veggies, fresh basil, seasonings, and ham.

“You’ll have to come visit me in California,” he says. “My house has a huge kitchen. I’ll make you a meal that would make Gordon Ramsey jealous. When I do pizza, it’s all from scratch. The dough, the sauce, basil from my garden, you name it.”

I know he means well, but a sense of dread settles over me at the mention of California. For a moment, I had allowed myself to get lost in our little bubble, with him here in my apartment, in my hometown. As soon as he reminds me he doesn’t belong here, that bubble bursts and I remember he’s leaving soon.

“Don’t say that,” I say without thinking.

He’s taken aback, jarred by the stern tone in my voice.

“Say what?”

I close my eyes and shake my head. “Don’t talk about me going to California like we have some kind of future.”

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