way, you just proved my point. You’re clearly the ‘difficult’ kind of friend.”
I don’t add that he’s right on one count, though—Lars is definitely the hottest friend I’ve ever had.
He’s also the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss so badly.
Stop!
I can totally do this friend thing.
After all, it’s my idea.
Why did I choose this again?
Ah, yes, I’m protecting my heart.
Wise move, seeing as Lars is total heartbreaker material.
Clearly trying to prove he’s not difficult, he comes up with an idea on where we should go. “How about we just grab some pizza and beer somewhere? Is that simple enough for you?”
I frown, glancing down at my dress and then over at him in his suit. “We’re a little dressed up for pizza and beer, don’t you think?”
He shrugs. “Nah, and who cares, anyway? Let’s just do what we want.”
“All right, pizza and beer it is.” I put the car in gear and add, “Lucky for you, the best pizza shop in all of Columbus is just down the road.”
“Cool. I’ve been trying to find good pizza in this town.”
“Then you’re going to love this place,” I reply.
I turn out of the lot and head down the road to my favorite pizza place in the whole wide world.
“Prepare to be wowed,” I tell Lars.
I feel his eyes on me as he murmurs, “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been wowed tonight.”
“Er… uh…”
Since I’m trying to keep things platonic, I just ignore him and keep on driving.
Secretly, though, I’m melting from his compliment.
When we arrive at the pizza joint, which is an old repurposed warehouse, and head inside, Lars is quickly recognized by several patrons.
Fans rush up to him, asking for autographs.
He signs a few—very graciously, I note—and then the hostess leads us to a private booth in the back.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize who you were in the theatre,” I remark once we’re alone.
“Must’ve been the ball cap,” Lars says. “And it was pretty dark in there.”
I tap my menu to my chin. “It wasn’t just that. I mean, I watch football and all, but I guess I never really pay attention to the players’ faces. The interviews and all that side stuff, I generally tune out. That’s more Jodi’s vibe.”
“Ah.” Lars nods. “That makes sense.”
Chuckling, I add, “It’s also kind of wild you’re the football player those two have been trying to set me up with since the fall.”
“It is kind of funny,” he agrees. “Maybe they know us better than we know ourselves.”
We’re veering beyond “friends” territory, so I warn, “Lars.”
“Okay, okay.” He opens his menu and changes the subject. “What should we order? Thin crust, deep dish, toppings, no toppings? This is your favorite pizza place, so it’s totally your call.”
“Let’s go with the deep dish,” I say. “It’s so good. There are big chunky tomatoes in the sauce and lots of mozzarella cheese. Oh, and speaking of toppings, is just pepperoni okay with you? You’ll be able to fully taste the awesomeness of the pizza if we don’t overload it with too much.”
“Sure. That works for me,” Lars says.
Our waitress arrives and we order our pizza, but opt for soft drinks instead of beer, seeing as we both have to drive.
When she leaves, Lars levels me with a look like he’s dying to ask me a million questions.
That’s fine.
I have some of my own that I’d like to ask—like why must he be so tall, dark, and handsome?
Yeah, no, better to keep that question to myself.
When he continues to just stare over at me, I ask, “What?”
“I was just thinking…” he begins.
“Thinking about what? Do share.”
“Well, besides the fact that you’re Jodi’s best friend and share a business with her, I know almost nothing about you.”
“You know I don’t pay attention to football players’ faces when I’m watching the games.”
He chuckles. “Yes, there is that.”
“You also know I was born and raised in Columbus.”
He sighs. “Yes, and you know I’m from Florida. But what about you, Becca? What do you like, besides old movies and deep-dish pizza with pepperoni?”
I want to say “I like you,” but that could be misconstrued.
No, it definitely would.
Damn, this is harder than I thought it would be.
But I know I can do it.
I can stay strong, even when faced with the onslaught of Lars’s hotness.
Tapping my chin, I murmur, “What do I like, what do I like? Let me think… Oh, I know. I like sushi and fast cars.”
“I like those things too,” Lars replies with a smile. “But