Page 12 of Beg Me

The lunch rush passed an hour ago, and Piper’s Pizza is fairly quiet. A couple of men in business suits talk shop in the corner, and a lone farmer remains at the circular table in the center of the room that was packed when we first arrived. It gives Lisa, everyone’s favorite server, a moment to breathe.

“I love that property,” I say, biting the end off a slice of sausage pizza. “And it’s in the perfect spot with how it sits back from the road, hidden by all the trees. You could probably just live in a hammock and be happy.”

“Let’s not get crazy.” She grins. “But the privacy was one of the biggest selling points. Drake grew up in the country and didn’t want to live in town. I wanted to be able to have chickens and maybe a pig if I can get Drake on board.”

I laugh, imagining Gianna with a pig. It’s not a vision that comes together easily—girly Gianna with a muddy oinker—but ever since she saw my sister’s piglet, Pigasso, she’s talked about it nonstop. At first, I thought she did it just to mess with Drake. But now, I don’t think she’s joking.

“You should see the plans I have for my art studio,” she says. “And there’s a small building that used to be a woodworking shop, I think, where we’re going to set up our podcast. It’s really great.”

“Are you itching to get back to the podcasts?”

She sighs, sitting back in her seat. “We are. Quitting Canoodle Media and walking away from our podcasts was pretty jarring. While I’m glad that we took some time to ourselves to put together a game plan, it’s time to get back to work.”

“Speaking of work, the high school called and offered me a job. I guess the calculus teacher resigned and they wanted to know if I wanted the position.”

“That’s amazing. Congrats.”

I snort. “Thanks, but hold off on the congratulations because I didn’t take it.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Do you remember high school?” I make a face that earns a giggle from Gianna. “I don’t know what your experience was for those four years, but I hated it. I can’t imagine willingly doing it again. No thanks.”

“Then why did you get a teaching license if you don’t want to teach?”

“Because I was young and wayward, and college seemed a whole hell of a lot better than getting a job.” I take another bite of my food. “The only classes I loved were math, and the only job I could think of was teaching.”

“Have you ever taught?”

I pause to take a drink. “I filled in for someone during their maternity leave. And by the end of the first day, I was dumbstruck that the teacher was willing to have her own kid after sitting in a classroom of twenty-five rug rats all day. It’s not for me.”

“When you say it like that, I totally understand.” She brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “You’d have to really love kids to be surrounded by them every hour of your life. And other people’s kids, to boot. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually liked a kid before.” Her nose wrinkles. “Is that weird?”

A small smile tickles my lips as I think of one kid I like … and then his father.

“I’m a professional athlete, and unless I’m reading this all wrong, we have excellent chemistry.”

What a line. I chuckle softly, trying to erase his cheeky grin from my mind.

“What?” Gianna asks, eyeing me skeptically. “What’s that all about?”

“You’re imagining things.”

“No, I’m not, and we both know it. What were you—or who were you thinking about?”

I drop my gaze to my plate and pick at a hunk of cheese that slipped off my pizza.

My desire to talk about Jory Plath with Gianna is nil. There’s nothing really to talk about, aside from the fact that he’s beyond good-looking and can hold a conversation in public—two things that rarely go together. But if I’m going to talk about it with anyone, Gianna would be my pick. After all, she had an entire podcast about relationships and dating. She gets it. She gets me.

“We were talking about kids,” I say. “And it reminded me of a kid that I met at the farmers’ market last weekend. And that reminded me of his father.”

She leans forward, grinning. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” I take a bite of pizza as casually as I can to try to drive home my point. “This boy came up to my table talking shit, basically.” I laugh as I remember Gus trying to pawn his dad off on me. “He was telling me how he was new to town and how his dad was smothering him, and he needed someone to date his dad so he could have some alone time.”

“I think I like this kid.”

“I liked him, too,” I say, shrugging. “He was funny. Anyway, his dad comes up behind him and …” I grin, feeling a stir in my belly. “I think it’s safe to say that this man is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen with my own eyes. Like holy shit kind of attractive.”