“Call me after your visit, and let me know how he’s doing. And tell him I said hi.”
“I will.” Hopefully he remembers who Amanda is. Hell, hopefully he remembers who I am if we’re hoping for things. “Okay, I’m going so I can unpack, run by Price Chopper for some food, and get settled.”
“Smart idea.”
I gather my purse from the passenger side and look at the piece of paper with all the rental information on it. The neighbor to the right will deliver the key.
To the right, is that the right when I’m looking at the house, or the right when I’m looking at the street? A house number would have been nice.
“You still there?” Amanda asks.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m trying to figure out which neighbor has the key.”
“That might be helpful.”
From the corner of my eye, to my right, I see a flash of someone walking toward my car. That must be the neighbor. Wanting to make sure, not that I really know what they look like, I bend my head down and look out the passenger window. The air around me stills and my body goes ramrod straight when I connect with a pair of intense eyes I haven’t seen in three years.
“Oh my God,” I say in nervous awe.
“What?” Amanda squawks. “Is it a psychopath? Lock your doors. Does the neighbor have a gun? Is he wearing hunting camo? Tell him it never looks good, even if you’re in the woods.”
“Amanda, I have to go.”
“What? No way. What’s going on?”
I only have to say two words, two words that hold the weight of a thousand heartbreaks.
Almost on a whisper, I breathe out, “Aaron Walters.”
“Oh shit,” Amanda responds.
Oh shit is exactly right.
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.”