Chapter Three

AMELIA

Five years ago . . .

“What the hell are you doing? Come on. All the Buffalo chicken is going to be taken.”

“My lips are dry. I need to put on my chappy. There are two cars in the parking lot; you’re good.”

I scan the parking lot, my foot bouncing impatiently up and down. “There are five and look, that guy is getting in ahead of us.”

Amanda caps off her ChapStick and rolls hers eyes at me. “You don’t have to wait for me; you can go in ahead.”

“Not when you said you were buying. Knowing you, you’ll take forever in here, and I’ll end up paying.”

She chuckles and puts her phone and keys in her purse. “God, you know me too well.”

“Exactly, so let’s go.”

I push her toward her car door, and she grumbles while exiting the vehicle. Thank God. “Come on.” I bounce happily toward the door and before I enter, I make sure Amanda is right behind me, which she is, dragging her feet. I know the only reason she’s not excited about getting Nirchi’s pizza right now is because she lost a bet and has to pay with the money she was saving up to get her hair done again. I don’t feel bad for her or her dark roots—not that Nirchi’s is expensive at all but as a college student, every dollar counts—if she knew she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure she was going to win, she shouldn’t have bet.

“I’m never playing you at beer pong again,” she mumbles as she walks up behind me.

“Wise decision. You know you will lose every time. Hmm . . .” I study the menu as the tall man in front of us orders. “I think I’m going to get the three-slice special.”

“Of course you are, but guess what? Joke’s on you.” Amanda whips out a piece of paper from her purse and says, “Mama has a coupon.” She holds the piece of paper up into the air as if it’s gold. “BOGO, baby.”

“What? Where did you find that? I want a buy-one-get-one coupon.”

She strokes the coupon in her palm and says, “You have to look at the mail instead of just recycling it. There are valuable things in the so called ‘junk,’ like Nirchi’s coupons.”

“I don’t think you should be able to use that today; that’s cheating.”

She wiggles her finger at me. “Uh-uh, that wasn’t part of the deal. I had to buy you Nirchi’s and that’s what I’m doing. I’m just getting mine for free.”

Skeptical, I eye her. “I still think it’s cheating.”

“Believe what you want.” She nods at the counter. “You’re up.”

I whip around and now that the guy in front has moved out of the way, I can see all the pies spread over the counter. My eyes run rapidly over the different flavors as a slight panic starts to take over. Looking up at the young girl behind the counter, I ask, “Do you not have any Buffalo chicken?”

She shakes her head and motions to with her thumb to the man who was in front of us. “He just took the last three pieces.”

“What? That’s greedy,” I snap before I can stop myself.

Nirchi’s is a special kind of pizza place. Their pizza comes in rectangles, so you get square pieces rather than triangles and you can choose if you want crust or not. I’m a crust girl, Amanda is not, which is why we can share a pie so easily. And the great thing about Nirchi’s is not just that their pizza is good, but they have multiple flavors ready to eat, so the wait isn’t long, just a quick warm up in the oven.

BUT . . .

When they’re out of a flavor, they’re out until they make a new one.

“Uh, well he got here first,” the employee answers awkwardly unsure of my unique reaction.

I rest my hands and head against the glass in front of me. “But it was all I wanted. It was all I ever wanted in my life.” Dramatic I know, but if you had their Buffalo chicken pizza as well, you would understand.

And cravings are cravings; you can’t kick them until you get what you want. Am I right, ladies?

“Just pick something else.” Amanda nudges me. “There is a line starting to form.”

“I told you to get out of the car, but noooo,” I flail my arms about, looking insane, “you just had to—”

“I don’t mind sharing.” I still as I’m interrupted mid temper-tantrum.

Every nerve in my body tickles from the deep, velvety voice coming from the man now leaning in my direction. Slowly, I look up to spot the brightest, clearest pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen looking at me. His skin is tan, golden almost, emphasizing how bright his eyes are. His chiseled face is paired with heart-shaped lips, light scruff, and a devastating smirk that makes my legs quiver with yearning.

“Eh, what?” I ask, looking at the very tall man, hoping and praying I’m not forming some gross double chin from the backed-away angle I’m at.

“Pizza.” He nods toward the oven where his slices are warming up. “I was eying the veggie pizza, so you can have one of my slices if that will make your day.”

“You want to give me one of your pizza slices?” I ask, still caught off guard by the beauty of this man.

“Well, in exchange for one of yours. Grab a veggie for me, and we’ll trade once they’re warmed up. Deal?”

Amanda leans over into my ear and whispers. “Take it, take it right now and while you’re at it, ask if you can taste his pepperoni.”

“Amanda,” I scold, hoping the stranger didn’t hear her. From the mirth in his eyes, I’m guessing he did. “Um, are you sure?”

“Yeah, not a problem. I’ll grab a table so we can properly make the trade. I don’t want any of this in-the-air stuff because if you drop my slice on the floor I’m going to be pissed.” With a quick wink, he turns toward the cash register to pay for his pizza.

“Oh my God, he is fucking gorgeous.” Amanda is now holding my hand, pulling on it. “You owe me big time now for putting on ChapStick. Don’t you just want to lick his face? I want to lick his face, is that weird?”

“Extremely.” I yank my hand away. “Stop being obnoxious and act like an adult.”

Amanda stares me up and down. “This coming from the girl who was about to throw a hissy fit over Buffalo chicken pizza.”

“It was all I wanted . . .” I take a deep breath and turn away from Amanda; I’m not dealing with her right now. The worker behind the counter looks like she’s about to lose her patience. So does the grumbling crowd behind me so I quickly make my picks. “Three veggies please, all crust.”

It doesn’t take long before we’re paid for and carrying our drinks and plates over to the gorgeous man in the corner at a four-person table. When we get closer, he pushes out both of the chairs across from him. He nods at them and says, “Take a seat.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I going to have to woo you before I get my slice?”

He smiles over the pizza that he’s about to bite into. “Yeah, I do believe you’re going to have to.”

With zero self-respect, Amanda takes a seat and says, “That’s no problem with me.”

Honestly. Does she not know how to avoid showing all her cards at once?

When I take a seat, he holds out his hand. “I’m Aaron.”

I take his hand and notice how rough it is. It’s a working hand, one that experiences strenuous hours on the jobsite, day in, day out. “Amelia, and this is my friend, Amanda.”

Aaron nods at Amanda. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure is mine and just so you know, Amelia is single and definitely on the market. Want me to give you her number?”

“Amanda, what the hell are you—?”

“I would love it,” Aaron says, leaning back in his chair while sipping his drink.

Slowly turning toward him, a little stunned, I ask, “You would?”

He nods with all the confidence in the world. “I would.”

“But you don’t know me. I could be a shovel-wielding rabbit killer.”

He leans forward, his chest flexing under his shirt with the movement. “I’ll take my chances.”

Now feeling a little skeptical, I fold my arms over my chest and ask, “Why do you want it?”

He bites down on his straw and studies me for a second before saying, “Can’t let a girl walk out the door without getting her number who’s that passionate about Buffalo chicken pizza. It’s just not physically possible.”

“Aw, he likes you for your crazy; he’s a keeper,” Amanda chimes in with her mouth full of pizza. “It’s 607—”

“Amanda, just be quiet for a second.” Looking at Aaron, I say, “Three Buffalo chicken pizza slices in exchange for three veggie and my phone number.”

“No way.” He shakes his head. “You can’t take all my Buffalo.”

“But I thought you wanted my number.”

“I do.” He leans forward some more, his fresh scent hitting me hard in the chest. “But we both know if I give you three slices, you will have zero respect for me because no man in his right mind would give up three Buffalo slices. No matter how hot the chick is.” Eeep, he thinks I’m hot. “But I will counter you with one and a half slices and a number.”

I sit back now, watching how his smile starts to spread. God, he’s just so . . . yum. He looks like he’s quite a few years older than me. Not just because of his face, but there is something in his eyes that makes him seem older. He’s definitely not in his second year of college like me. Not wanting to fold so quickly, I counter. “Two slices, my number, and a guaranteed date this Friday.”

He sits back, his eyes widen, and that smile gets even bigger. “Fucking deal.” He holds his hand out and we shake.

For some reason, I feel like I might have just bartered for a little more than I can handle, because a mere smile from this man has me weak in the knees. What effect will time alone with him have on me?

I’m guessing so much more than I can imagine. I’m also guessing something so amazing I’ll never forget.