“I won’t fall in love with you, lumberjack. It’s not in my nature.”
“Kemp, you know you won’t be able to control your heart if we keep spending time together like this.”
The restaurant was called Petroni’s, a place that served the best Italian cuisine. Somewhere on Elm Street in downtown Winter Mist Village. Just the two of us seated in front of the condensation-covered window that overlooked the street. Music played in the background, coming from somewhere. Covers by the two-instrument group Brooklyn Duo. Was “Landslide” playing? Or was it “Love Yourself” by Justin Bieber? Not that the music felt important, although it did.
We shared a meatball lathered in a thick red sauce. I took the first bite and passed him the remaining portion.
“You can’t have me, Jack. I won’t let that happen.
