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“Well, New Paul.” I move behind the counter and slap my hand on the stainless steel like I’m hosting a cooking show. “Are you ready to be the first to try the best pizza in Riverside?”

He winces. “I just came from lunch.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine. People eat lunch.”

“If someone had called me,” he says, “or maybe texted me four days ago…”

I laugh despite myself. Then I come around the counter, put both hands on his hips, and walk him backward until his ass hits the counter.

“You’re going to hold that over me forever, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

I kiss him. It’s supposed to be quick, but six months presses into it. When we finally do break, Paul’s eyes have changed.

“There are other ways we could catch up,” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

His hand finds me. “I’m starving.”

I raise my voice toward the door.

“Hey, Mom! Take the rest of the day off, okay?”

One perfect second of silence, then Mom shouts back, “Tell your boyfriend it was nice to meet him!”

The front door latches shut behind her.

Paul looks at me.

“Boyfriend?”

“Special friend?” I offer. “Vacation buddy?”

His mouth curves. The bastard makes me wait.

“Boyfriend sounds correct,” he finally says.

My smile grows until it hurts.

“Good. Boyfriends get the first slice.”

Paul pushes off the counter, stepping into me. “After.”

We make it halfway up the stairs before I kiss him again. Then again at the top, with one hand braced on the wall and his fingers hooked in my belt. By the time we reach the apartment, nothing about this is smooth.

The door barely closes before Paul is on me, laughing into my mouth when I nearly trip over my boots. I kick them aside. One hits a box, and something inside rattles.

“Still unpacking?” he asks.

“Shut up and take your shirt off.”

He does without hesitation.