Bloom

“Where should we eat?” He looks around at the shops that are shuttered and the restaurants that are boasting lines of diners waiting patiently for a table. A couple brushes past us with a pizza box in their hands.

I make a suggestion I hope I won’t regret. “We could pick up a pizza to go.”

“To go?” His left brow arches in surprise. “Back to your place or mine?”

I’m not ready to take him home with me yet, so I opt for the closer choice. “Your place isn’t far from here. Let’s go there.”

Staring at me, a smile ghosts his mouth. “Pizza at my place? I’m in.”

Chapter 12

Liam

After throwing the paper napkin in my hand into the center of the empty cardboard pizza box, I rub my stomach through my sweater. “That was good.”

Athena pitches her napkin at the box too, but it sails right over. Once it’s landed on the floor, she rolls her eyes. “Ignore that.”

Reaching for it, I huff out a laugh. “I didn’t see that. Give it another try.”

Balling the napkin tighter, she launches it again. This time it twists over itself in the air before it lands squarely on the lid of the box.

“She shoots, she scores.” I pump a fist in the air. “That’s two points for Millett.”

Shaking her ass on the sofa, she waves both hands in the air. “Hell yeah.”

This feels so damn good.

I could tell she was nervous after we ordered the pizza and waited for it. Her gaze kept volleying past me to the door. I thought she was planning to make a break for it, but she hung around.

We walked back to my apartment talking about food.

She loves toasted sourdough bread with cream cheese and berries. When she asked me about my favorite food, I went with an easy answer.

Pizza.

I eat to fuel my body. I try to avoid the junk food aisles at the grocery store, but I’m human. A man can’t survive on fruits, vegetables, and protein alone.

With a heavy swallow, I finish the water in my glass.

I turn to find Athena’s eyes glued to me.

Tossing her a smile, I pick up her empty glass. “Do you want a refill?”

She looks at her phone’s screen. It’s the second time she’s checked it since we sat down to eat.

I silenced mine because I stopped being on call fifteen minutes ago. If an emergency call comes into the Dehaven Center tonight, the phone service knows to contact Winola Dehaven, the founder and my boss.

If she doesn’t pick up, they’ll reach out to one of the other three counselors I work with.

“I should go soon.” Her voice takes on the same nervous edge it had back at the restaurant. “I have a busy day tomorrow.”

I do too, but it’s early. “Can you stay for a few more minutes? I think I have a candy bar in the drawer. We can share it for dessert.”

She shifts so she’s facing me. “How long has it been in the drawer?”

Good question. I bought it for my niece, Winter, when I was hanging out with her one day. “Six months. A year tops.”

Reaching for her purse, she scrunches her nose. “I bought one yesterday. Let’s stay safe and share that.”