Pizza My Heart, Part 1
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How could I have prepared myself for knocking on a door, trying to deliver a pizza, and it opening to reveal one of Hollywood's hottest actors?
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He was just as sexy as all of his movies, and I was helplessly tongue-tied, a victim to his relentless charm. So when he asked me to come inside his room, I didn't say no.
That was my second mistake. The first was asking for his autograph like I was some starstruck fangirl whose life would be defined by the moment I had the chance to exchange words with America's heartthrob.
Okay, I was starstruck, but no one calls me a fangirl.
Anyway, that must've been the reason he thought I would be okay with him making a pass at me, and actually expected me to be flattered by the gesture. Little did he know—the autograph I wanted wasn't even for me...
"You know, most fans would pay me just to kiss them, even," he said.
"Well, I'm not a fan," I said.
"Don't lie," he scoffed. "You're the one who wanted an autograph."
"I only asked for it for my grandmother"
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