“Ugh.” It was truly rank. Not at all the coffee and roasted-meat smell of the week prior. My stomach gave a precarious lurch. “Burned cabbage? Flaming kale? Whatever it is, my stomach is seriously rebelling.”

“Hot-dog machine malfunction,” the bored cashier standing near us supplied.

“We can’t work here.” Groaning, Jasper adjusted his bags. “Which sucks because I had ideas for you I wanted to go over.”

I had plans, too, plans to enjoy his company. I had…thoughts on him not telling his mom that we were going to hang out, but I had no room to complain. Besides, she’d glared my way more than once that afternoon. I couldn’t blame Jasper for not wanting to hear her opinion on us being…whatever this was. I didn’t know what to call someone who sent me pics of sexy drawings and who teased me almost like flirting but who might still hate me with good reason. And even with all that uncertainty, I’d still been looking forward to this.

“Dang it. Maybe—” I was about to propose sucking it up and working here anyway, but then a fresh wave of the stench hit my nose. My stomach had definite opinions about this smell, and none of them were good. Sighing, I shuffled my feet. “Nah, I guess you’re right.”

Instead of heading for the exit like I’d expected, Jasper stood there, head tilted and mouth pursed. Damn, he was cute when he was thinking.

“Hey. You still like pizza?”

“Is the sun yellow?” When I was younger, I was pretty convinced the only food better than pizza was my grandmother’s ravioli. And damn was I tired of various variations on canned soup.

“There’s a new place near the university. Hipster vibe. Lots of California-type flavor combos. If I’m running you home anyway, maybe we could split a pie first?”

“Uh…” Was he asking me out? And if so, how did I feel about that? Also, what if we ran into some of his fancy college friends? The questions racing through my brain must have taken longer than a split second because Jasper frowned.

“Never mind. Forgot you need to keep our…association on the down low.”

“I don’t,” I said quickly because somehow I knew this chance might never come again. I’d made that mistake once before, and no way was I doing it again. “We can go. The pause was me doing mental math. You know how it goes.”

It was a little white lie, and not that far from the truth because there was always more week than cash lately.

“Oh, that I can relate to. I get paid Friday and it was my idea. I’ll treat you.”

Now that was even closer to a date. But I’d kind of backed myself into a corner. “Okay, but next time’s on me.”