Joshua parked his car outside a cozy pizza spot tucked away on a sunny California street. Bella was already out of the car before he could even grab his wallet, her Karty jersey still on from earlier.

“You’re really wearing that out in public?” he teased as he caught up to her.

“Uh, yeah,” Bella said, pushing open the door to the restaurant. “Why wouldn’t I? I look amazing in it. Plus, everyone needs to know I’m dating an NFL kicker.” She winked at him before walking in like she owned the place.

Joshua shook his head, grinning as he followed her inside. The smell of fresh dough and melted cheese hit instantly, and his stomach growled.

They slid into a booth by the window, sunlight spilling across the table. Bella grabbed a menu, but Joshua already knew what he wanted. “Large pepperoni. Extra cheese,” he said without even looking.

“Boring,” Bella teased. “You gotta try something different. What about BBQ chicken? Or spinach and feta?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Spinach? On pizza? Bella, that’s a crime.”

She smirked. “You kick footballs for a living. Let me handle the food.”

He chuckled. “Fine. But if I hate it, you’re buying me another pizza.”

The waiter came by, and Bella ordered half BBQ chicken, half pepperoni—because, as she put it, “I’m a fair queen.”

While waiting, Bella leaned back in the booth, sipping her iced tea. “So, Mr. NFL Star,” she said, tapping her nails on the table, “what’s it like being recognized every time you go out?”

Joshua grinned. “It’s fine, as long as they don’t interrupt me when I’m eating pizza.”

Bella laughed. “Good thing I’m the only one who interrupts you.”

“You do more than interrupt,” Joshua teased, nodding at her jersey. “You basically scream, ‘Look at me, I’m dating a Ram.’”

“Exactly,” Bella said proudly. “Gotta let them know I’m taken.”

The pizza arrived, steaming hot and smelling like heaven. Bella took the first bite and made an exaggerated “mmm” sound. “See? Way better than just pepperoni.”

Joshua tried a slice of her half and raised an eyebrow. “…Okay, not bad.”

“Not bad? That’s it?” Bella grinned, leaning across the table. “Admit it. I’m right.”

Joshua smirked. “You’re right about a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I’ll admit it out loud.”

Bella threw a napkin at him, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

They sat there for an hour—eating, laughing, stealing bites from each other’s plates—until Joshua leaned back, full and smiling. “Best pizza ever?” he asked.

“Best pizza date ever,” Bella corrected, reaching across to squeeze his hand.