me first, like I matter to him.
Stop getting shit confused, Thea. Sully’s your fake boyfriend. Just because you’re sleeping together doesn’t mean you matter.
“You okay?” he asks when we’re nearly to Slice. “Your brows are all scrunched together like you’re concentrating hard.”
“Huh? No.” I clear my throat. “I mean yes. I’m fine. Sorry, just tired from today.”
It’s not exactly a lie. Today was exhausting as hell, but I think things are finally starting to settle down at the shop. Tourist season is wrapping up with kids heading back to school soon, so we’re almost in the clear. I can see the end of the tunnel getting closer and closer.
“You know you don’t have to come ‘work’ on the boat anymore, right? All it’s going to take is that one part to get her running again, and we both know I can handle that.”
“Trying to get rid of me so soon?”
“Not at all.” He scratches at his chin. “I’m starting to think I might never get tired of you.”
The last part is murmured, but I hear it loud and clear.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
There goes my heart again.
He steers the truck into the parking lot of Slice and finds a spot, cutting the engine.
“You ready to grab some grub?”
I grin over at him and nod, then we climb out of the truck and make our way inside.
It’s crowded, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Slice is a hotspot on the island, and since we’re still in the tourist season and people sometimes flock to town just to try Simon’s pizza, it’s expected.
“Hey! It’s the lovebirds.” Speaking of the owner… “You missed breakfast last weekend,” he says to Sully.
Sully sighs. “Trust me, I know. The guys won’t shut the fuck up about it in our group chat. I’m like two texts away from blocking them all—especially your shithead son.”
“He’s a menace, but I take no responsibility for that. He’s his own special kind of asswipe.”
I laugh because he’s not wrong. I remember how much of a troublemaker Winston was in school. If he wasn’t picking fights, he was finishing them for someone else.
“We’re out of booths, but there are a couple open stools at the bar if you want to grab ’em. I’ll pop by for your drink order as soon as I get this order in.”
One of my favorite parts of coming here over the years has always been how active Simon is. He doesn’t hide away in the kitchen or his office the whole night. He spends his time helping his customers personally, and it’s something our small town really appreciates.
Sully and I make our way to the other side of the pizzeria, snagging the last two available stools.
I grab a menu from the spinning rack and flip it open right to the dessert pizzas because, thanks to Sully, I have the page burned into my brain.
I was doing so well with pretending they didn’t exist, but now that I’ve had one, I’m ruined for life.
“What are you thinkin’ tonight? Want to get the Brookies & Cream again? Or do you want to try something new?”
“That Mint Chocolate Melt looked bomb last time. I think I’ll get that. What are you having?”
“Are we not sharing?”
I blink at him. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I…am?”
“That sounds strangely question-like.”
“Only because I’m afraid to answer you honestly. You take your sweets very seriously.”
“Then you should know I have zero intentions of sharing the pie.”
“They only come in large.”
“I said what I said, Sully.”
He tucks his lips together, nodding. “Fine. Mint Chocolate Melt for you, and I’ll do a Cheesecake Quake.”
“The names he comes up with are so damn ridiculous.”
“One might even say they’re”—he leans into me—“cheesy.”
“Come on,” Simon says, appearing on the other side of the bar. “That was funny. You’re not even going to laugh at him?”
“Oh, I’ll laugh at him no problem.”
“Spoilsport. What can I get for you two?”
We place our orders, and Simon promises to be right back with our drinks.
“So today was stressful, huh? Take it you haven’t found a replacement tech for the shop yet?” Sully asks once we’re alone.
His question takes me by surprise. I offhandedly mentioned needing to hire a new tech and doing interviews, but I didn’t think he was paying much attention, let alone would remember it later.
“What?” he says when I don’t answer, picking up on my shock. “Even when it doesn’t seem like I’m listening, I’m paying attention. Isn’t that what a good boyfriend would do?”
Yes, but you’re not my boyfriend…are you?
“Right.” I force myself to smile, and