Page 11 of Forever Player

“I can’t help it. You’re one of the hottest women I’ve ever seen,” I said to her.

“You have to stop with the cheesy lines if we’re going to hang out,” she insisted.

“Or you are just going to have to get used to compliments because I was just saying what I think,” I informed her.

We made it into the pizza place.

“Shit, my wallet is in my jacket,” she hissed. Then she pulled her phone out of her shirt and texted her friend. She bit into her bottom lip and all I could think about was kissing her, tasting her. “Okay, phew. They have my jacket, but I can’t pay for the pizza, so I owe you.”

This woman.

“Willow, there was no way I would’ve let you pay for the pizza anyway. Should we get a whole pie?”

She raised her brows.

“I’m a big guy with a hearty appetite,” I clarified. Her eyes ate me up and I liked the way she looked at me.

“We’ll take a large pie,” I tell the man behind the counter. Then I looked at Willow. “What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni, vegetables. . .”

“That works.”

We made the order and I asked for two cappuccinos because it looked like the kind of place that had authentic Italian coffee.

“I’m not drinking coffee in the middle of the night, Brett.”

“I need you sober, Willow,” I reminded her.

“Because you want to get lucky,” she said, sounding back to her moody self.

“No, I want to rock your world and I can’t make you come apart if you’re drunk.”

She licked her lips and pressed her thighs together.

“I’m not coming apart for you. I never do, so don’t get your hopes up,” she stated and walked off and sat in a booth.

I waited for the cappuccinos and then walked them over to the table. “Did I hear you right?”

“You aren’t that drunk,” she sassed.

“Woman, I will make you come apart if you give me the chance,” I promised and passed her the cappuccino. She lifted the sugar dispenser and poured a lot of sugar into the cup. Then she used the little wooden mixer and took a sip.

“This is delicious.”

“Not as delicious as I’m sure you’ll taste.”

She spit out the cappuccino onto the table. Some landed on my shirt. “Geez. Are you a prude?”

“Prude?” she asked me back.

“Pizza is ready.” The man who was working the cash register had our pizza in his hand. He placed it on a pedestal in the middle of our table.

“That looks amazing, thank you,” I said to him.

“It looks so good,” Willow agreed.

I didn’t know what to make of this girl, but I was having fun with her.

She took a slice and groaned with the first bite.

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