Free Must Be Love: (Nicole and Ryan) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 1) by Claire Kingsley

over a stupid text message?
    Bing. I force my hand to slow down and pick up my phone without so much enthusiasm.
    Sorry. Cody being a dumbass. Typical. Are you hungry?

    A smile breaks out over my face. So much for tempering my excitement . Yeah, starving.
    Can I pick you up in 20?
    Sounds great.
    I blow out a breath and gather up the paperwork into a neat stack. Twenty minutes. A sudden rush of nervousness hits me and my stomach turns over. I think about the way he looked, standing so close to me near the windows in his studio. I can’t get the what if out of my head.
    It's okay Nicole. You've got this.

    ***
    Nineteen minutes later—not that I’m counting—Ryan pulls up. My dad’s home, tinkering in the shop out back, so I slip out the front door. I don’t really want to answer awkward questions from my parents about where I’m going. It feels surreal, like I’m a kid sneaking out to meet a guy they don’t like. Not that I ever dated someone they didn’t like. I really only dated Jason, and everyone loved him.
    The sight of Ryan stepping out of his car pushes all thoughts of Jason from my mind. He’s dressed in a blue t-shirt and dark jeans. His hair looks wind-blown, like it always does, and his jaw is covered in just the right amount of stubble. What would that stubble feel like on my cheek? On my—
    "Hey," he says. He walks around the other side of the car to open the door for me.
    "Thanks."
    He shuts the door and gets in the driver's side. "I figured you were working. Thought you might be hungry."
    "I really am," I say. "Come to think of it, I don't know if I've eaten since breakfast."
    "You do that a lot, don't you?" he asks as he pulls out of the driveway.
    "Do what?"
    "Get so busy you don't take care of yourself," he says.
    I give him a sidelong glance. "Maybe. So, what, we've worked together on this thing for a few days, and now you know all about me?"
    He laughs. "Oh no. I'm not going there."
    "Going where?" I ask. "You seem to have me all figured out. You knew I'd be hungry."
    "Lucky guess. It's seven o'clock."
    Suddenly I wonder why he invited me to dinner. Is this a date? Are we supposed to be working? I tuck my hair behind my ear and try to sneak a glance at him. He seems relaxed, but that could mean anything.
    "Is pizza okay?" he asks.
    "Roma's?" I ask. Roma's was one of the go-to Friday night hang outs when I was in high school. "Sure, I haven't been there in years."
    "Neither have I," he says. "I thought it might be kinda fun to go."
    We pull up to the red building and get out. It’s a mild night—the wind from the past few days has blown itself out, and the sky is soft and turning purple.
    Ryan holds the door for me, and it’s like walking into the past. Everything is exactly the same. Low walls with rough wood paneling separate each booth, and patrons sit on red vinyl benches. The scents of garlic, oregano, and cheap beer mingle in the air. An alcove on one side has a line of ancient arcade games, their screens still blinking and colorful. The menu has all of five choices, the same as it always has. We order at the counter and take a plastic number sign to a booth near the back.
    The walls are covered with years of graffiti—encouraged by the owners. Kids doodle, people sign their names, and the locals make a point of covering anything that looks like it’s been written by tourists. In a town whose primary industry is tourism, we get a little possessive of our turf. Roma's is ours.
    "Sometimes I feel like nothing here ever changes," I say. "If you told me we had to go to class in the morning, I might actually believe you."
    Ryan grins. "Except if we had class in the morning, I don't think you'd be here with me."
    "Well, it's not like you ever asked me," I say.
    "And risk the wrath of Jason and his buddies? No thanks."
    "He wasn't that bad," I say.
    Ryan raises his eyebrows.
    "Okay, he probably was," I say.
    "I'm sorry," Ryan says. "I probably shouldn't bring him up."
    "No, it's actually