Page 67 of Tobias

“Pizza is good.”

He drops onto the couch as he messes around on his phone.

“Let me guess,” he says, narrowing his eyes on me. “You’re a pineapple guy, aren’t you?”

I hold his gaze, trying to sum him up. “Only a pineapple-hating man would say that.”

“You know what? I’m not afraid to admit it. I love pineapple on pizza.”

“Shut up. You do not.”

“Oh, I do,” he says with a firm nod. “And I refuse to stay quiet about it.”

I can’t help but grin. “So do I.”

He gasps. “Shut. Up.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “What are the odds? There’s never two of us…”

“Tell me about it. So… pineapple?”

“Hell yes. What else do you like with it?”

“Onion is my favorite, but bacon is good too.”

“Fuck it. Let’s do both.”

“One pizza with pineapple, onions, and bacon coming right up.”

“Extra bacon!” I shout, throwing my arms up. He grins wider, tapping on his phone. When he puts it down, he looks over and at me with a goofy smile. We stare at each other for an amount of time that should be uncomfortable, but I don’t feel weird under his gaze. It feels… like a warm blanket.

“So,” he begins, grabbing the bottle of wine and getting it open. “I said I hate this house, but there is one thing I love about it. Well, not the house, but something that’s in it.”

“Sounds like you’re about to gloat.”

“Maybe a little.” He hands me a glass of wine and gets up, gesturing for me to follow him.

We go through the kitchen, stopping at a closed door beside the fridge. He opens it up and I’m hit with a wave of cool air. He steps down two steps, and I carefully go after him, unsure of what I’m walking into. The room is large, with a concrete floor and walls. Two cars sit in the center, though there is enough for a third. The Bentley is closest to me, sparkling and new, but he stops beside a car that has me unable to breathe.

“No way,” I manage to say so quietly I don’t think Theo hears me.

“This is my pride and joy.” He stares at the car, rocking back on his heels. His nipples are hard from the cool air and there’s goosebumps running along his skin. Mine too, probably, but I’m too shocked to notice.

“This is—”

“A 67’ Mustang Fastback.”

“—my dad’s favorite car.”

His smile falls immediately, and he looks toward me. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “You didn’t know.”

Theo purses his lips, turning his attention back to the car. “On our first date, I told you my dad was all about history. I’ve always loved cars. He never understood it and made sure I knew he didn’t approve. He was never mean about it, but it was never a secret that he felt it was a useless thingto like.”

Letting out a humorless laugh, he brings his attention back on me. I still can’t move. Panic has my feet rooted to the ground. Seeing this car, my father’s dream car, right here in front of me is like… all the air has left my lungs. Since I knew what a car was, I knew whatthiscar was. Dad said when he was younger his neighbor had one. Used to see him outside every weekend working on it. When he finally got the engine going, he said he’d never heard a sound more beautiful than the rumble of it. Not until he heard me and my sister’s laughter…

“You okay?”

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