Changing Lanes (The Lone Stars Book 3) by Katie Graykowski Read Free Book Online

three bites. It was impressive. He’d forgotten that she could eat more than he could back in the day.
    She picked up another slice. “Grace said you were slick. She was right. How about we promise to only to tell each other the truth from now on.”
    He wanted to tell her the truth, but more than anything he wanted her to find out on her own.
    She bit into the pizza and sauce slopped down the front of her dress. With the corner of his shirt, he wiped it up.
    After putting her slice on the cover of the box, she picked up his shirttail. “Why did you do that? Now you’re shirt is ruined.”
    “Your dress is ruined. I was hoping I could catch it before it stained.” The red globs running down her dress meant he was too late. If only he had some Shout wipes. Should he take her to get some? Next time he’d have them in the glove compartment.
    “It’s okay.” She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t have anywhere else to wear this dress.”
    That didn’t make sense. That dress was just the thing she’d wear to the ballet. He grimaced. She was trying to make him feel better. No more pizza. From now on they would only eat in places with cloth napkins.
    “Don’t you want some pizza?” She pointed to the open box. “Do you like red pepper?”
    She waited for him to answer.
    Eating? Christ he was so nervous that keeping food down seemed impossible. What if he told her that he wasn’t hungry or ate earlier? His treacherous stomach growled.
    Confusion crinkled in her eyes and then a dawning awareness took over. “Oh, why didn’t you say something? You don’t like meat lovers.”
    “No, I do. It’s just that …” he swallowed the tidal wave of spit in his mouth, “I have a little bit of a nervous stomach.”
    That was the understatement of the century. He tended to vomit when he got super nervous. If he ate that pizza, he was sure to get sick. And wouldn’t that be a fitting end to the evening? Him puking all over her.
    “A nervous stomach, while it isn’t a medical diagnosis, is usually caused by anxiety and stress.” She moved the open pizza box to the side and faced him. “Do I make you nervous?”
    “A little.” It’s not like he could deny it.
    “Why?” Line creased her brow.
    “You know … I like you …” he swallowed again. His mouth was making saliva by the gallon now. “A lot.”
    Always had … always would.
    “I like you too.” She inched closer. “You weren’t nervous when you were kissing me.”
    “No.” He hated that his voice shook, but there was nothing he could do about it.
    “So you should probably kiss me again.”
    She didn’t have to ask him twice. Softly, his lips took hers. She tasted like pepperoni and promise.
    His hands slid into her hair, and his fingers lightly massaged the back of her head.
    Every muscle in her body went slack, and she moaned, tilting her head forward. Her hand went to his shoulder sending a jolt of pain down his arm. He jerked back, cracking her forehead on his chin.
    “I’m so sorry.” Just when he’d thought the evening had taken a turn for the better, he knocks her on the forehead. Was God punishing him for something?
    “Ouch.” She rubbed her head and plopped down hard, cardboard creaked and then there was a wet–squishing sound. “Crap, I just sat in the pizza.”
    She rose to her knees and pepperoni, sausage, and cheese oozed down her backside.
    Never in his life had a date gone so wrong. Beside accidentally running over her with the car or having her spontaneously combust, what else could happen?
    His phone buzzed with a text from his mother. “Don’t worry. Small kitchen fire. I’m fine, not much damage. Except baby back ribs are ruined. Love you.”
    “Can you excuse me a second?” His heart hammered in his chest while he touched contact and waited forever for her to answer.
    “I’m fine.” His mother called over a den of male voices. “The Lake Travis Fire Department is taking very good care of me.”
    He sighed. “What