Page 73 of Don't Let Go

“Where are we going for pizza?”

He inched forward toward the crosswalk, eager for the light to change. “My favorite place. It’s not too far from here.”

I bit my bottom lip and slowly let it slide out from my teeth. Patience was something I never had. “Does this place have a name?”

Tyler’s lips twitched. He fought laughter at my expense. “Of course, but you’d look it up and ruin your experience.”

He had a point. I would look the place up to see what the atmosphere was like, check the star ratings, maybe read some reviews, and see what was on the menu.

I brushed off invisible lint from my jeans. “Okay. I’ll allow the surprise.”

That won me a flash of that dazzling smile as he shook his head. “I’m glad to have your blessing.”

Tyler pulled into the parking lot of a shopping center for a grocery store with a nail salon and a hair-cutting place on either side of it. I wondered about his taste in food. I always thought Scottsdale people wanted the best of the best. They drank the sweetest wine from the most expensive bottles using crystal glasses with actual gold on the rim. I was a bit worried knowing rich people liked to eat monkey brains and bull balls and could only imagine what they’d do to an innocent pizza.

However, a pizza joint on the outskirts of Scottsdale in a shopping center was nowhere near my radar.

“We’re here. This place is the best, I promise. I would always have my birthday dinners here as a kid. This place means a lot to me.” Tyler cut the engine and got out of the car.

I sat for a heartbeat, wondering how many times he was dropped on his head as a baby.

Tyler stood in front of the car’s hood and waved for me to follow. “Are you going to live in there or what?”

I took off my seat belt and got out of the car. “I don’t see a pizza place around here.”

He pointed to the corner of the shopping center to a place called Luigi’s Pizza Bistro. “Come on. I hope you’re hungry.”

On the outside, the bistro didn’t look like much. All it had was the name on the front in fading colors and the typical pizza graphics and contact info on the restaurant’s heavily tinted windows.

The inside was a completely different story. The laminate floor was a deep blood red with sparkles, almost like a herd of unicorns was murdered there. The walls were maroon withposters of rock stars and concerts, mainly from the 1960s and 1970s. There was a jukebox near the hostess station with a neon lava lamp trim around its frame.

The hostess smiled warmly at us and grabbed two menus. “Hello, Tyler. I haven’t seen you in a while. I’m so sorry about your father. He will be missed around here.”

Ty gave her a polite smile. “Thank you, Lily.”

She nodded and looked at me with a grin. “Welcome in. Your first time?”

I nodded sheepishly. “Yes. How can you tell?”

Lily laughed. “Your reaction to the floor.”

Tyler nudged me with his shoulder. “Be cool, Rory.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. It looks like it would be slippery. Is that the idea?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but a lot of people think that especially when it’s raining.” Lily grabbed two bundles of silverware wrapped in a red cloth napkin before walking backward into the restaurant. “Would you like to sit in your regular booth?”

Tyler seemed shocked by the question. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Any booth is fine,” I answered, patting Ty on the back.

He shook his head, finally coming back to earth.

Lily sat us at a booth next to a pink guitar signed by Glen Frey of the Eagles. “I’ll let you look over the menu. Do you know what you’d like to drink?”

“We can start with water. Thank you,” I said, taking a seat across from Ty.

He fingered the edge of the menu and glanced around the restaurant as if he was about to defuse a bomb. I reached over the table to touch his hand. “Are you okay?”