Cheesy on the Eyes: Fake Dating Romcom (Slice Book 5)

by Teagan Hunter

  A smattering of awwws go up, and I can feel some eyes on me.

  I don’t look though. She’s all I can focus on.

  “Right? Lucky me, huh? Only I was a dumbass.” She holds her hand up. “I know, another shocker.” Another sharp breath out. “See, when he asked me to leap, to embrace the fall with him and take a chance, I ran. I gave it up because I couldn’t be brave.

  “As wild as that is, it’s not even the craziest part of it. No, the crazy part is that I fell in love with him too.” She gulps. “Big-time. Like the kind of love you see in the movies or read about in books…the kind of love that makes you realize fate did have a hand in it all along.”

  Thea looks right at me, and my heart starts to work overtime.

  “Hey, Sully? I’m ready to leap.”

  I waste no time crossing the floor to her.

  I don’t hesitate to wrap my arm around her.

  She holds the microphone at her side, and there’s joyful applause around us as she speaks to just me. “I’m sorry. I know this is all really cheesy. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

  “Thea…”

  “No, listen. I’m still scared, Sully—fucking terrified—but you’re worth the risk. We’re worth the risk. I want this. I want us. I—”

  “Thea?” I interrupt, dropping my forehead to hers.

  She swallows. “Yes?”

  “I’ll catch you.”

  “Hand turkey promise?”

  “Always.”

  A Slice of the Future

  Thea

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter.

  “I can’t believe it either, but it feels like it’s been a long time coming.”

  “It’s a huge step. I’ve never done this before. It could change everything.”

  “We’ll take the leap together,” Sully promises.

  “What if we hate it?”

  “What if we don’t? The only way we’ll know is to try.”

  I exhale shakily. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Are you? Because this is seriously the dumbest thing I have ever witnessed and I have two children who aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box.” Simon glares down at us. “What do you want?”

  “We’ll take a slice of pepperoni each.”

  “Pepperoni? Pepperoni? You just did all that bullshit to order a pepperoni? You’re finally going to try my pizza and that’s what you order?” He growls, tossing his hands up in the air. “I quit. I fucking quit.”

  “Bring us cheese fries too!” I call after him before turning back to Sully. “Do you think he hates us?”

  “Probably.” He takes a sip from his milkshake. “But it’s fun to screw with him.”

  “I can’t believe he hasn’t banned us all yet.”

  “I’m sure it’s coming, especially after breakfast last week when Foster and Winston started a food fight.”

  I eye him. “Because I’m sure you and Porter were completely innocent in all that.”

  “I mean we didn’t not participate, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

  “I regret nothing.” He shrugs, then stretches his arm across the table.

  I slide my hand into his waiting palm, and he begins tracing a pattern over the lines.

  “How much longer do we have?” he asks.

  “Thirty minutes, give or take. I’m the co-owner, so really I can take as long of a lunch as I want.”

  Over the last year and a half of dating, meeting once a week at Slice for a long lunch has become our thing. We promised early on that we’d make the effort to spend time together because I have a tendency to shut out the world and only focus on work.

  “You like tossing that word around.”

  “Hey, I worked damn hard to become co-owner. I deserve it.”

  Six months ago, my dad decided to take his own leap of faith and make me co-owner of the shop. With Jonas and Frankie living in Colorado with my beautiful baby nephew, they wanted to free up time to travel and visit their grandbaby more often.

  All I had to do was promise to take weekends off entirely and clock out no later than half an hour after close.

  With Sully waiting for me, that was no longer a deal-breaker for me.

  “I’m proud of you,” he says, still tracing my palm, his light touch making my skin pebble.

  It’s crazy to me how much his touch still affects me.

  How much he still drives me crazy.

  I know in the grand scheme of things we haven’t been together all that long, so it shouldn’t be surprising, but when I think back to my last relationship…well, it’s safe to say I’ve never felt like this before.

  And I hope I feel this way for the rest of my life.

  “So proud of you, actually, that I’d even consider letting you move in with me.”

  “Is that your very roundabout way of asking me to move in with you?”

  “Is that your very roundabout way of saying yes?”

  “You didn’t ask anything.”

  “So demanding.” Sully sighs. “Fine. Althea Jane Schwartz, will you move in with me?”

  “Into your tiny-ass houseboat?”

  “If that’s what you want. Or…we could look for our own place, one with a nice, sprawling backyard.”

  “That does sound dreamy. It’d be better than trying to cram everyone onto the boat for our grown-ups-being-kids parties and risk someone falling off it…again.”

  “To be fair, Porter pushed Foster. He didn’t fall.”

  I nod. “True.”

  “So, what do you think?”

  “It’s not too soon?”

  “No. I love you, Thea, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.”

  “Anytime soon?”

  He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t want to say forever. You still haven’t let me drive that sweet-ass car of yours, and you’re quite the bed hog—we’ll see how long I can put up with that.”

  “Already looking for excuses, I see.”

  “Woman,” he says, lips falling into a thin line. “Give me an answer before I change my mind.”

  “I need more convincing.” I twist my lips up, tapping on my chin with my free hand. “What do I get out of this?”

  “This dick.”

  “I seriously have to start working on my timing.” Simon tosses down our two slices of pizza. “Enjoy. Or don’t. I give up at this point.”

  He sulks off, and I smother a laugh.

  I turn back to Sully. “Your offer of dick whenever I want it is very enticing, but I also feel as if that offer still stands now, so we’ll call it moot.”

  He sends me a sour look as I lift my pizza to my mouth, taking a small bite.

  I chew, pretending to toss Sully’s question around in my head.

  My answer is yes. I wanted to scream it at him the second he asked.

  But I’m using this as payback for all the times he’s teased me in bed, letting him squirm a bit as I casually chew and swallow.

  “Thoughts?”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “It doesn’t get me going or anything. I could take it or leave it.”

  “I don’t mean the pizza—I expect your psychotic anti-pizza tendencies at this point. You know what I’m asking.”

  I take another bite.

  Chew. Swallow.

  “I did see a fixer-upper for sale down the island a bit, and we did have a lot of fun finishing up the boat together. The idea of settling down with you does sound nice.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a yes,” I say, deciding he’s taken enough of my shit. His eyes light up, and I point my finger at him. “But don’t go getting any ideas. Just because we’re moving in together doesn’t mean we have to start taking all sorts of other leaps.”

  “Don’t worry, Thea, I know you’re not ready. But when you are, and when I finally grow some balls and ask for your hand in marriage, you’ll say yes before I can even get the full sentence ou
t.”

  He leans across the table, smirking at me, that same smirk as always.

  The one I love so fucking much it makes my heart ache.

  “Fate is that sure of us, baby.”

  I wait for it…the fear.

  I wait for it to kick in, to send my heart racing, to make my palms sweat and chills break out across my neck.

  But it never comes.

  And I know, without a single doubt in my mind, he’s right.

  THANK YOU

  Thank you for reading CHEESY ON THE EYES!

  Sully and Thea were so much fun to write, and I hope you loved them as much as I do!

  Looking for more of the SLICE gang?

  Meet Foster & Wren in A PIZZA MY HEART, a brother’s best friend romcom that’s low on the angst and heavy on the laughs.

  Don’t forget to check out Winston & Drew in my SUPER hot, enemies-to-lovers/single mom romcom, I KNEAD YOU TONIGHT.

  In the mood for a sexy single-dad/nanny romcom?

  DOUGHN’T LET ME GO is exactly that!

  Missed the story of Frankie & Jonas?

  Meet them in A SLICE OF LOVE, a novella that’s just 99¢.

  If you want more L-O-L Teagan romcoms, be sure to check out my TEXTING SERIES, now available in a box set!

  Keep reading for a preview of the first book in the Texting Series, Let’s Get Textual, a wrong number romance that’s full of laughs…

  LET’S GET TEXTUAL PREVIEW

  Delia

  Liam: Who is this?

  Me: Um, Delia…

  Liam: Who?

  Me: Your sister?

  Liam: I don’t have a sister. Is this a joke?

  Me: Liam? What, no! Are YOU joking?

  Liam: Who’s Liam?

  My phone lights up in my hand, and I stop midstride. The screen says Liam, but I don’t believe that to be true now. I quickly make my way to a bench as curiosity fills me and I hit the accept button. “H-Hello?”

  “Who is this?” The voice is gruff and not familiar to my ears.

  I glance around campus, seeing if I can find someone lurking behind a tree, playing a prank on me. Nothing appears out of the ordinary.

  “This is Delia,” I answer. My eyes fall to slits with suspicion, and though the caller can’t see me—or I hope he can’t—I know my tone conveys my qualms.

  “Delia?” An electric spark races down my spine with the way the stranger says my name. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

  Okay, forget the shiver. Screw this douche.

  “The name I was given. Now who in the hell is this?”

  “I think there was a mix-up.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. Doesn’t answer my question though.”

  The man on the other end of the line snorts. “You have a mouth on you, huh?”

  “It appears that way. But—”

  “I still haven’t answered your question. Yeah, I heard you. I’m Zach, and you’re not Mr. Warner, are you?”

  “Do I sound like a Mr. Warner to you?”

  He chuckles again, and I feel it all over my body. I hate that I feel it. “No. You sound much cuter than him.”

  “So you think Mr. Warner is somewhat cute?”

  “Ah, a sense of humor too. I can get on board with that.”

  Something dawns on me: he’s flirting with me, and I kind of like it.

  It’s been one week since Caleb and I broke up, and I wish it wasn’t true but the breakup has affected me more than I expected it would. We’ve been cordial in the class we share, even going as far as to meet afterward and grab a coffee, but things have changed. The dynamics of my friendships with others have already shifted. I’m not star third baseman Caleb Mills’ girlfriend anymore; I’m just Delia, journalism major and all-around normal girl, and I’m mostly okay with it.

  “How did you get this number?”

  “My roommate. We work together and he’s sort of my assistant, taking my calls for me. He wrote your number down as a client call from the home office.” He sighs, and it’s filled with irritation. “I was on my way out of the apartment when I sent him a text. I must have entered it into my cell wrong.”

  “You communicate with clients via text?”

  Zach tsks playfully, and I realize I’m on the phone with a stranger and there’s a smile plastered across my face. I shouldn’t still be on the phone and I shouldn’t be smiling, but what’s the harm in a friendly conversation, right?

  “Are you judging me, Delia?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “This mistake might cost me a client.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  “I didn’t say it was, simply making a statement.”

  “It’s not a fact though…”

  I can practically hear him roll his eyes. “Observation, whatever, but I didn’t say it was your fault.”

  “You sound like you blame me,” I retort.

  “Never,” he promises. “I should figure out how to get in touch with my client though.”

  “That would be a wise choice to make. Why did you have to reschedule?”

  “Are we getting personal now, Delia?”

  “Is that a personal question?”

  “Depends on my answer, doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose it does.”

  “I was needed. Had to help mend the broken heart of my roommate. Tinder date gone bad and all that.” I hear what sounds like a refrigerator door opening in the background, then there’s the soft hiss of a bottle opening. “And you assumed I was your brother, right? Is he upset you missed your date?”

  “We usually speak before our lunch dates and he called to reschedule. I thought it was weird he was mentioning it again, but I didn’t think much of it. He’s a strange character so it wasn’t too unusual.”

  “And how did he call you if you thought this was his number?”

  “He used his landline.”

  “Those still exist?” he says with surprise in his voice.

  “Apparently so.”

  “Hmm…” I hear him take a drink of whatever it is he’s drinking. “Quite the coincidence, huh?”

  “The biggest of big,” I agree.

  “So I’m the only one on the outs here.”

  “It seems that way.”

  “Unfortunate.”

  “For you.”

  “There’s that sass again, Delia.”

  “There it is,” I deadpan.

  We’re quiet, and I check to see if he’s still on the line.

  “Well, this has been fun,” he says after several seconds of silence.

  I hate to admit it, but I’m sad our call is ending. For the first time in a week, I feel normal and not like Caleb’s ex-girlfriend who everyone gives sad smiles to. Don’t they know it was mutual? Don’t they know I wanted this and don’t need their pity? Don’t they know I’m okay? Sure, I miss Caleb. He was an incredible boyfriend, the perfect guy, really, but he wasn’t my perfect guy, and we’re both okay with it.

  “Sorry about your meeting, Zach.”

  “Sorry about…well, nothing, Delia. It was a pleasure talking with you.”

  “You too.”

  We stay on the line for several beats until he finally disconnects the call.

  Sitting there on the bench, I watch the bustle of students running from class to class. What in the hell just happened? How did that happen? And why in the hell did he call me? He’s brave, because I’d never hit the telephone icon and strike up a conversation with a stranger.

  But maybe that’s part of my problem. I let myself fall into these patterns and then when I grow bored, I don’t do anything about it. Hell, I did the same thing with Caleb. I grew too comfortable with him and he stopped revving my engine, but I allowed us to keep going on even when I knew we’d be better as friends than anything else.

  “Hey, you headed to 103?”

  Speaking of…

  I shield my eyes against the sun and stare up at him. “As soon as I can convince myself to mov
e off this bench.”

  “Dreading the quiz?”

  “Are they ever fun?”

  “That’s an excellent point.” He extends a hand and pulls me up. “So, what has you smiling like this?”

  I can’t help it—my smile grows wider and my face heats up.

  “Oh! I’m guessing the proper question is who has you smiling.”

  It should feel awkward; the question should sound wrong coming from Caleb, but it doesn’t. He already feels like an old friend. We don’t have the dreaded “ex vibes” going on.

  “You know, I’m not entirely sure who he was, but he wasn’t horrible to talk with.” Caleb gives me a funny look but I wave him off, hoping he’ll let it go for now. I grab his arm, pulling him along. “Come on or we’ll be late. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Zach: How come when I order a large pizza for myself for lunch I receive one of “those” looks from the delivery guy?

  Me: Wait, wait, wait…you work from home?

  Zach: Yes, but not the point. Let’s focus on the pizza delivery guy and his sassy stares here.

  Me: Well I imagine you’re answering the door in your pajamas with uncombed hair, so you appear all sad and heartsick…or just sick. Or weird. Or a creeper. Yeah, you know what, you DO look like a creeper.

  Zach: I would take offense, but you’re probably right.

  Me: Probably?

  Zach: That’s the story I’m sticking with.

  Me: I think the point of view on your story is skewed.

  Zach: YOU’RE SKEWED.

  Zach: God. That was awful. Forget I sent that.

  Me: *screenshot*

  Zach: You’re evil. I knew there was at least one redeeming quality about you.

  Me: And what about my smart mouth?

  Zach: You’re right—one and a half.

  Me: I’ll take my winnings where I can.

  “…is due on Thursday. I’ll see you all then.”

  The buzzing of students putting away their laptops and notebooks pulls me from my stupor. Shit. I missed the entire last part of the lecture.