Take Her Somewhere Nice

As both of you get comfortable with each other, both of you getting figuratively and literally close to each other, hanging around at the edge of the party starts to feel less and less appealing.

"Hey," Both of you say at the same time. You both giggle and trip all over each other's words, insisting that the other go first.

"Okay, how about we say it together?" Marisa suggested.

"Okay! On 3. 1... 2..."

"Do you want to go get some pizza?"

* * * * * * * * *

Both of you spend time exploring the love boat, looking through the directory for a pizza place of some kind. Eventually both of you find yourselves in front of a sleek pizza-bar-slash-bakery called Pizza Cake.

A neon portrait of who you assume is the owner, a man in sunglasses, pointed finger guns at both of you from the store's sign. Still giggling, both of you go inside and are helpfully seated by the maître d'hotel.

You spend the next few minutes marveling at the vast selection of pizzas and cakes. From the classic pepperoni pizza to the opulent Sachertorte. Your inner foodie is starting to show... but at least Marisa seems to be at least your equal in this regard.

Your eyes meet... and you lower your gaze... down her neck, the soft swell of her breasts... down to the menu...

She's tapping a finger on a photo of a pizza topped with pineapples.

"Shall we get a Hawaiian?"