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I add some extra shredded cheese on top of the frozen pie. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any pineapple to add to your half.”
“It’s okay. Pineapple is good but certainly not a requirement.”
A few minutes later, the pizza is in the oven, and we are sitting around the small table.
“Tell me something about yourself,” she says.
“What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you want to tell me.”
I’m tempted to tell her that she knows far more about me than I do her, but I hold my tongue. She will tell me when she’s ready.
“Hmm,” I collect my thoughts. “My favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry.”
“Interesting,” she says.
“Yours?”
“When it comes to ice cream, I will eat any of it, but my favorite is Neopolitan. That way, you get three flavors all at the same time.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“Maybe a little.” She holds her fingers up, so they are about an inch apart.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I wink at her, and she giggles.
“You’re a real smooth talker, Jonas Mitchell. You know that?”
“Only to pretty girls,” I say before leaning in to give her a peck on her full lips.
She rolls her eyes but smiles all the same.
We wait for the pizza and get to know random trivial things about each other. She tells me that her favorite flower is tulips because she feels like roses are overrated, and she loves any type of chocolate with caramel in it.
“What’s your favorite place you’ve ever gone on vacation?” I ask.
She takes her first bite of pizza before answering. “Uhm, I don’t think I can answer. I’ve never been on vacation.”
“Never?”
“Foster kid, remember? Vacations weren’t usually within the budget. And I mean after that, it just never happened.”
I can tell she is watching what she says because she doesn’t want to explain the whole story yet, so I don’t pry. But I can’t help but feel bad for her. Although we weren’t well-off when I was growing up, Momma always tried to make sure we traveled within the state. I remember quite a few times when she would take us to Nashville or Gatlinburg. And when I was with Nicole, she convinced me to go to Florida for a few days. The beach wasn’t my cup of tea, but it was still nice to get away for a little while.
We continue to get to know each other while we finish our slices of pizza, and then Andi gets up to put the dishes in the dishwasher…again. When she turns away from the counter, she runs right into my chest.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to clean up after me?” I ask, my voice low and gravely.
“Sorry. Habit.”
“If you don’t start listening, I might have to bend you over my knee,” I warn.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, cowboy.”
I chuckle and turn away from her before my dick gets so hard that it bursts through my zipper.
“Come on, troublemaker,” I say. “Let’s go.”
