Free Pizza My Heart 1 by Glenna Sinclair

boy, maybe,” I allowed, “but he doesn’t succeed very often.”
    “Look at where we are, girl,” Nana said. “Hawaii. I’ve never seen somebody try so hard in all my life. You should let him know, at least.”
    “Let him know what?”
    “That you see him trying. That you know it’s hard for him. Everyone struggles differently. You should know that.”
    “Nana, the only struggling Devon does is deciding if he wants the filet mignon or the lobster tail, and then orders both just because he can.” I sighed. “You really need your rest, now.”
    “Think about it, June.”
    “I will if you promise to try and go to sleep.” It was like babysitting a child with her sometimes. I had to cajole her to do things.
    “Good night.”
    “Good night.”
    I shut the door and turned to face Devon, who had been standing there in the hallway for God only knew how long.
    “I’d choose the lobster tail,” he said, his face unreadable. “I like seafood better than steak.”
    “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” I said, feeling sheepish and shitty.
    “But you meant to say it.”
    I sighed. “I don’t know what I meant to say. I’m sorry.”
    “I’m sorry, too,” he said.
    “For what?” What could he possibly be sorry for? He’d taken Nana and me to Hawaii, for God’s sake.
    “For this.” He stepped forward quicker than I could react and kissed me square on the lips. He stepped away just as fast, putting some space between us.
    I was so surprised and dazzled that I saw bursts of light behind my eyelids in the dim hallway. It was probably just the jet lag, and that I was tired from everything we’d done today. Or it might’ve been just how good that kiss felt. How right.
    “You can kick me square in the balls,” he said seriously. “But I had to do it, June. I had to kiss you. I had to know what it was like.”
    “And?” I whispered.
    “And what?”
    “What was it like?”
    He was silent for several long moments, looking down at his feet, gauging his response.
    “Worth the wait,” he said finally.
    I wanted to say something, to do something, but I was frozen in place. Not only had he kissed me, he’d liked it. It blew my mind because he was so famous, and I was such a nobody, but it also did impossible things to my heart. I realized, in that strange moment, that I was falling in love with him, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
    He left me standing there in the hallway, rejoining the party, and I meekly slipped into my own bedroom and went to sleep, smiling at the memory of his lips against mine, the fireworks that had gone off in my brain.
    I woke up late the next morning—or at least late by Dallas standards. It was already midday back home, even though it was only dawn here.
    I got out of bed to check on Nana, but she was already awake, dressed, and in her wheelchair.
    “Who helped you?” I demanded sleepily, peering at her.
    “I helped myself,” she said.
    “You better not ruin this vacation by falling and winding up in the hospital,” I told her. “You’ll only have yourself to blame.”
    “Don’t fuss at me,” she said, flapping her hand at me. “Don’t you think my hangover is punishment enough?”
    I had to laugh. “Oh, Nana. Poor Nana. Let’s get you some breakfast.”
    Devon was in the kitchen, cutting up fruit when we arrived, and I stopped short of the threshold.
    “Good morning,” Nana said pleasantly, making him look up. I sighed and pushed her forward, unable to remain in the hallway any longer.
    “There you all are,” he said, grinning. “Nana, I’m making you a local cure for what ails you. All my friends are drinking the exact same thing this morning.”
    “I’m glad to know I’m in good company,” she said with dignity.
    He tossed the fruit into a blender with some ice, doused it liberally with rum, and set it to mix. I waited until the machine came to a stop.
    “Nice,” I said. “She can’t have that.”
    “Live a little,