Page 107 of Collect the Pieces

“Used to. I got an old ’95 Dyna Wide Glide that’s been sittin’ in my garage for years. Haven’t had the time to fix it up. Can’t seem to part with it, though.”

“Don’t. That’s a great cruising bike. Reliable engine. Easy to modify.”

“It’s no fire-breathing powerhouse but it always got my big ass around. Never let me down or saw a trailer when I was running it.”

“Sounds like you miss it. Gotta make some time to ride the wind.”

“Yeah, I definitely wanna get back to it.” He waves his hand over the glass display case covering the middle of the counter. “Whatta you having?”

I eye the pans of various pizzas. “Two pepperoni slices.” I nudge Jezzie. “What do you want?”

“Cheese.”

Luigi grabs our slices and tosses them in the oven, then nods at Jezzie and points to the cooler in the corner. “Grab whatever sodas you want.”

I slide down to the register, but Luigi shakes his head. “Family doesn’t pay.”

He’s not going to keep Jezzie employed for long with that policy. “Thanks.” I drop the twenty in my hand into the tip jar and wait for Luigi to return with the warmed pizza.

Jezzie chooses the booth in the corner and starts tearing the crust off of her pizza as soon as we sit down.

“What do you think?” she asks as she stuffs small bits of golden-brown dough in her mouth.

“I haven’t tried it yet.” I pick up my slice, holding it in the air.

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean,” she says in a hushed voice, her gaze darting to the kitchen and back to me.

“Nice place. Small. You sure he’s got enough business to keep you employed?”

“I told you it’s not a lot of hours.” She glances around. “And yeah, believe it or not between five and seven this place is jam-packed.”

“All right.” I take a bite, savoring the hefty amount of gooey cheese, spicy pepperoni, thin layer of sauce, and extra-crispy crust. “It’s good,” I mumble. “Can see why they’re busy.”

We eat in silence. The occasional clatter from the kitchen or Luigi and Erin’s conversation filling the space. Every now and then, I flick my gaze toward the door.

A group of four college-age guys shuffles in, their loud voices competing with each other as they argue about something.

“Settle down.” Luigi’s voice rumbles from behind the counter, silencing the kids. Not a request. A warning.

They immediately dial it back, bantering with him for a few minutes before finally placing their orders.

Jezzie cranes her neck to peek at them, then quickly drops her head and focuses on her plate.

I frown. “You know those guys?”

She nods, eyes still locked on her food. “I have a class with one of them.”

The tallest one leans sideways, angling himself to get a better look at Jezzie. His gaze flicks to me and he freezes in midair—like he’s Bambi staring into a semi’s headlights on a midnight highway.

Then, like someone hit hisunpausebutton, he swaggers toward us, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sagging, oversized jeans. The whole outfit looks like it was stolen from the skater kids I went to high school with. “Jay, that you?”

Jay?

Red spreads over her cheeks as she quickly grabs a napkin and swipes it over her mouth. “Oh, hi, Colt,” she says in a forced, breezy tone.

She throws a please-don’t-embarrass-me glare at me.

I shrug.I’ll do my best but can’t make any promises.

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