Page 40 of All's Fair in Love and Pizza
Night after night was spent teaching Rob new culinary skills while he shared feel-good stories about the bagel shop of his youth.
Sometimes he’d pause to tease my control-freak tendencies, and I’d shoot back a snarky reply that I had no desire to go to theER and hope someone knew how to repair a chopped-off thumb. Lightly barbed words led to laughter, gentle bumps of elbows or hips, and twenty minutes later, he’d be balls deep inside me, pounding my ass as I moaned into his pillow.
It was truly some of the most incredible sex I’d ever had in my life.
No kidding.
I’d passed out in his bed last night for the second time in three days and woken up in a panic. I’d dressed quickly, double-checked to be sure I had my cell and my keys, then headed for the door.
“Hey. C’mere,” Rob had murmured, lifting his head.
I’d frozen for a beat before going to his side. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you later.”
“Mmm.Kiss me.”
He’d been half-asleep and I hadn’t wanted to make a fuss, so I’d pressed my lips to his forehead, inhaling his scent and wishing I could slip under the covers without worrying that anyone would figure out that our pizza war had taken an interesting twist.
It seemed as if my cousins at least should have clued in that there was more than unrequited lust on my side happening here. No one said a word. I couldn’t decide if we were great actors or…maybe they were.
My mom was the one who made me a little nervous.
She showed up regularly at the pizzeria with a bejeweled Aunt Sylvie dressed from head to toe in her signature animal prints to gush about the nice young man next door. And of course, they’d vote for our “bake-off” samples each week, and give their two cents.
Aunt Sylvie, honest to a fault: “Your bagel is doughy, Mateo. I don’t like it.”
Ma, also honest, but with a lighter touch: “It’s not bad. It’s just…I think it’s maybe not your strength, honey. But your marinara is far superior.”
Aunt Sylvie: “Not even a contest.”
But itwasa contest.
There were posters all over town promoting the bake-off and urging customers to participate and show support for the Big H Hawks. It was good for the community, good for the football team, good for our respective businesses.
I was pretty sure Boardwalk Pizza would win this hands down, but it was beginning to feel less and less as if it mattered. Weird.
Okay…that was a slight exaggeration. I wanted to kick ass and gloat while I rode Rob’s cock and?—
Whoa.Chubby alert.
I cleared my throat and tuned into the meeting Amber had called to give us all an update.
“I’ll make this quick.” Amber eyed her clipboard, her curls spilling loose from her hair tie. “Boardwalk Pizza is leading by a teensy margin.”
“Teensy?” Vanni scoffed. “How teensy is teensy?”
“Bigger than your dick,” Jimmy quipped, holding a hand up for a high five.
My lips quirked at the sophomoric humor, but I ignored my idiot cousins and kept a straight face. My gaze might have wandered to the big man across the counter; that couldn’t be helped. For one thing, Rob looked good enough to eat in a snug-fitted tee that matched his eyes and accentuated his beefy biceps. And for another thing…I ached from last night’s sexathon.
Christ, we’d been positively voracious. I had a bruise on my hip and if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d left a wicked hickey on Rob’s right pec.
“Three points,” Amber replied.
“Yup. We’re killin’ it.” That was Vanni again.
I had a feeling my cousin’s over-the-top boasting was his version of flirting, and shockingly…it might have been working. Amber’s blush ruined the annoyed glance she shot my cousin.
“For now, yes. But Rob and I have some yummy surprises in the works, so…don’t rest on your laurels, boys. We’re gonna kick your booties.” She held a hand up to Rob for a high five, then tapped her clipboard. “Last item on my list is actually kind of a big one. As I mentioned, our online campaign is racking up some big numbers and well…Mrs. Mulveney came up with an interesting idea to make our finale into more of a grande finale and have it coincide with the alumni game the first weekend in December. We can reach out to some other former players and maybe ask them to be judges.”
