“Looks delicious,” said Izz.
“You like eggplant on pizza?” Dante arched an eyebrow. The heat from the oven behind him felt like it’d gone up a few degrees. Drops of sweat trailed down his spine. Dante rolled his shoulders, but that didn’t help, the movement only made his shirt stick to his back.
Izz shifted the bin of dirty dishes from on hip to the other so that he could lean closer to the glass. His bangs were swept to one side, the ends curling skyward due to his hair’s natural wave. Izz bit into his lower lip, the pressure of his teeth just hard enough to give his expression a not-so-innocent amount of coy. He lowered his gaze to the artfully assembled pizza and then looked back at Dante’s face. “I wasn’t talking about the pizza,” he said.
Dante’s c**k twitched in response. Blood an
