by Lily Kate
We wait patiently as he scans the group, his eyes circling past everyone, as if digging for dirt to use against one of us. On his first pass over the circle, he comes up empty. His eyes flick again to my face, and then to Ryan’s, and then back to mine. His eyes widen, and I know what’s happening before Lawrence opens his mouth.
Ryan does too, and he acts first. “Come on, man,” he starts. “Leave Andi out of—”
But Lawrence lets out a slurred sort of smile, a bit saggy at the corners of his lips, his eyes a little hazy. “Never have I ever fallen in love with my delivery girl.”
Everyone falls silent. Around us, the cheers of the bar crowd sound as yet another rider saddles up on the mechanical bull. All eyes at our table flick between Ryan and me. Why? I’m not quite sure. Obviously he’s not in love with me. We just met. I shouldn’t care that he leaves his finger up. I shouldn’t care at all.
Dammit, I care, I think as Ryan’s hand flexes. His finger twitches as if he’s going to put it down for sympathy to spare me the embarrassment. I decide I don’t want a pity finger, so I take action.
“Well, we all know my finger’s staying put,” I say with a polite smile at Lawrence. “My dad has some fantastic delivery girls, but I’m not into that sort of thing.”
A round of titters helps to dispel some of the awkwardness, but not all of it. Ryan’s still shooting daggers at his brother. Lawrence is oblivious, but Lilia’s not. She mouths I’m sorry then tries to hook her arm in her fiancé’s. “Let’s go, buddy,” she says. “I think you need to snooze.”
He grabs for her, misses her arm, and squeezes her boob.
“All right then,” Lilia says. “Someone’s handsy. Here, have some water.”
“We’re still playing,” Ryan says, his jaw tense. “Nobody’s upset here.”
“Ryan, please, let it go,” I murmur. We’re close enough that nobody should be able to hear, but since everyone is paying such close attention, they can probably read my lips. “It’s his bachelor party. He’s allowed to overindulge. Forget about it. Leave your finger up. Boxer, do you want to go again?”
“Never have I ever fallen in love with a delivery girl.” Boxer snorts dumbly. “Good one.”
Ryan turns his gaze to his teammate. “Really, Boxer?”
“Ryan…” I rest a hand on his arm, but that only serves to set him into motion.
He puts his finger down solidly. In fact, he puts down all of his fingers except for the middle one. Turning to me, I catch a glimpse of something in his eyes—lust, longing, desire, whatever it was that drew us together—and beneath it I see a hint of something more. It’s not love; it’s too soon for that, but it could be friendship, maybe.
I don’t have long to analyze what’s going on in those beautiful brown eyes of his because the next thing I know, he’s leaning in, breath spicy with the scent of his gum, his hands sure as he grips the back of my head. He kisses me, in front of everyone, a scorching kiss that causes Lilia to suck in a breath.
When Ryan pulls back, he’s wearing a smug expression as he glances around the table. He slides an arm around my shoulders, hugs me to his body, and smirks. “Who’s next for the game? I’ve got a finger or two left.”
Lilia exhales. “Never have I ever been kissed like that! Damn. Come on, Lawrence. We’re going home. You’re going to sober up and kiss me like that.”
“Like what?” Lawrence is staring somewhere between Ryan and myself, his eyes not fixated on anything.
“You’re right.” Ryan stands, pulling me with him. His hand slips over my ass, cupping it possessively. “It’s time to go home. Tommy, can you drive these guys home? We’ll find our own way back.”
CHAPTER 27
Ryan
“I wouldn’t have been brave enough to try this place on my own.” I inhale another taco and pray it doesn’t wreck my intestines tomorrow. “How’d you find this thing?”
Andi laughs, a sound that makes me smile back at her involuntarily.
“My dad’s always been a big foodie—you know, before it was cool. I know Peretti’s doesn’t seem all that fancy—it’s not, really—but my dad cares a lot about food. He worked for years to get a recipe for pizza sauce that he was happy with.”
“My brother recommended your dad’s place,” I say. “That’s how I found it in the first place. According to Lawrence, it’s the gem of the pizza world in LA.”
“We get a lot of local business,” she says happily. “Repeat customers. We’re not a big name chain, but we try to make sure our customers are happy with what we serve. My dad might be blunt and seem a little emotionless—he loves playing the tough guy Italian card—but really, he’s sweet. He cares more than anyone I know.”
Listening to her talk about her family is equal parts fascinating and heart-wrenching. The way she speaks about them makes it easy to see the love, the connection. Though she doesn’t talk about it much, I can sense how much she misses her mother, and I hate that she’s lost someone so important to her.
My own family is close-knit back home, even though my brother is a dick sometimes. My parents are great, truly, and I can’t imagine losing my mom like Andi has. When my brother isn’t being a drunken asshole, he can be decent, too—unlike tonight. I’m still pissed at him for putting Andi and me on the spot like that.
Luckily, she doesn’t seem all that fazed by it. After we loaded Lawrence and posse into Tommy’s huge rental and sent them home, I asked Andi to grab a bite to eat with me. Since she knew the area well, she suggested a local place that sold tacos.
I love tacos, I just hadn’t expected to love them from a sketchy-ass cart on the side of the road. Seriously—there’s a small guy behind the cart flipping meat and other various substances that resemble food, and if I had to guess, one could catch salmonella from simply breathing in the scent of sizzling meat.
But Andi insisted they were great, that she comes here all the time after her shows, and that she hasn’t gotten sick once. One bite in, and I was sold.
“If I get sick tomorrow,” I say to Andi, swallowing a mouthful of taco. “It will have been worth it…almost.”
She laughs again and steals one of my tacos. I lean in to snag a bite, but she moves the taco at the last minute and puts her mouth there instead. I let my other hand find her waist, my fingers sneaking a squeeze of her glorious hips as her lips play over mine.
The girl is heaven. She tastes like it, looks like it, smells like it… I can’t imagine what it’ll feel like when we finally give in to temptation and put Andi’s new amendment to use. The tension is crackling through the roof now, hotter than the sizzling pan next to us.
“You’re good,” I murmur, reluctant to pull my lips from hers. “I would’ve fought you for that taco, but it seems you’ve traded me for something I like better.”
She gives a shining grin, then pulls back with a teasing wink and bites into the taco. “Aha! You fell for my trap.”
I reach for her as she shrieks loud enough for half the street to hear. I don’t give a damn—I’m having too much fun to care. She tries to run away from me but I scoop her up by the waist, toss her over my shoulder, and snag a bite of taco as I run my fingers along her ribcage.
She squirms, shouting good-natured expletives as I carry her fireman style. She’s light; I’m pretty sure I’ve carried burritos heavier than her. The whole situation sends my mind spiraling toward the bedroom.
I imagine my hands squeezing her hips, sliding into her softness, bending her over the couch, the counter, the…hell, anywhere. She’s light enough that I could hold her with one hand against the wall.
The thought has me bursting at the seams of my boxers while marching down the street with her over my shoulder. She’s given up squirming and now rests her elbows on my back, her chin in her hands, probably a pout on those lush lips of hers.
“Hey,” she says after half a block. She taps the top of my head. “Want a bite of my taco?”
I freeze. “What did you say?”
> “I have one left.” She laughs. “Want a bite? I’m full.”
I need to see her smile more than I need to breathe. The urge to hold her, to kiss her is more than anything I’ve ever known. I swing her into my arms, my eyes locked on hers as a brush of surprise sweeps across her face.
She holds the half-eaten taco with both hands as I cradle her in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard for all the bums, tourists, and late-night streetwalkers to see. I don’t care who sees us. Bring on the paparazzi. Let Jocelyn watch.
I can’t be friends with this girl. I haven’t laughed like this, had fun—fun!—like this since I was five years old shooting dart guns at my brothers. Being friends is not an option. I need more.
I’m just getting ready to tell her that when she puts her arms around my neck and gives me the softest, sweetest kiss I’ve ever tasted. It’s honey on marshmallow levels of sweetness, and I can’t handle it. I need her so badly it’s painful, and I groan.
“Sweetheart, can we go somewhere else? Preferably somewhere private.”
Her eyes burn, smoldering with desire. “Please.”
I wiggle out my phone, not daring to set her down, not daring to let this moment pass. I hit the call button for an Uber. It gives me an estimate of three minutes. Three frigging minutes—I can’t wait that long…but I guess I’ll have to, because she slides out of my arms.
“One second,” she says. “How long ’til the Uber comes?”
I tell her a few minutes then watch as she runs back to the sketchy-ass taco stand. She forks over a few bucks, gets another load of tacos, and brings it back. I don’t comment because I love—and I mean love—the fact that she eats whatever she wants. Despite weighing half of me, she’s put away the same number of tacos. I’m impressed.
“These aren’t for me,” she says, glancing at my face.
Obviously I don’t hide my surprise very well.
She jogs easily over to the mailbox in front of her comedy club. “Here you go,” she says, handing over the plate of food to the man living next to the mailbox. “Have a great night, Phil.”
“Good show,” he says. “That boyfriend of yours is a keeper.”
“Goodnight Phil,” she yells, walking back to me. “Mind your own business!”
I pretend I didn’t hear their exchange.
However, she can read my face again. “Ignore him,” she says. “He’s full of it. Thinks he’s got everyone figured out.”
“That was nice of you,” I say. “You two seem like you get along.”
She waves a hand. “He’s my biggest fan. It’s the least I can do.”
“So he’s my competition?” I raise my eyebrows. “What do I have to do to become your number one fan?”
She leans in, gives me a wink. “Take me home tonight. I’ll let you figure out the rest from there.”
I believe I’ve died and gone to heaven. She’s hot, funny, and unafraid to say what she wants—hell, this morning she added an amendment to our contract, stating that she wants to have sex. If I don’t propose to her now, some other bastard will, and he’ll be the lucky one.
“Why are you single?” I ask instead.
Lilia would have my ass if I proposed right now anyway. She wouldn’t want anyone encroaching on her wedding plans. Also, it’s too soon…right?
“Oh,” she says, a light going on in her eyes. “Don’t get me started. We could be here all night.”
“Bullshit.”
“Ryan…”
The way she says my name has me watching her eyes, waiting for her to find the words she needs to say. I reach out and cup her cheek in my hand. The skin is soft, so very soft, and I let my thumb brush over her lips. “Yes?”
“You didn’t have to do that back at the bar.” She raises a shoulder. “Really, I can roll with the punches, take a joke. You didn’t need to make a thing about what Lawrence said.”
“He didn’t need to be a dick.”
“He was just having a good time,” she says. “I’m around a lot of dicks, anyway. I’m used to it. Lots of comics are awesome, hilarious people, but there are a few…”
“In any profession,” I add. “There are some great hockey guys, and then there are…”
“Dicks,” she finishes, and we share a smile.
“Exactly.”
“Well,” she says. “I guess I owe you a thank you, but just know, I didn’t expect you to do that, or to say anything. I can stand up for myself.”
“It was nothing,” I say. “I don’t mind showing everyone how I feel about you.”
“But love…” She says the word quietly, with reverence, as if she’s in church. “It’s too soon for that. And when I—er, well, this morning when we talked—”
“When you asked for sex, you mean,” I say with a wink. “Yes, I remember that vividly.”
Her face colors, but she nods. She wasn’t lying—this girl can roll with the punches.
“I honestly meant it. I don’t expect anything from you, and you shouldn’t from me. We’re just having fun.” She flashes a quick smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I want to make that clear.”
“Of course,” I say. “Fun it is.”
“So…” She hesitates, kicking her toe against the ground. “Speaking of fun…where’s that Uber?”
CHAPTER 28
Andi
“Is this weird?” I ask as we sneak through the doors of the guest house like two teenagers. “We can go someplace else.”
“Like your house?” Ryan raises an eyebrow at me. I’ve already explained that I live with roommates—more specifically, my dad.
“Point taken,” I say.
Even if my dad has been strangely encouraging about my new relationship-sort-of-thing with Ryan, that doesn’t mean he’d welcome Ryan into our home with open arms at three thirty in the morning, especially smelling like whatever mechanical bulls mixed with tacos smells like.
“This is my home away from home.” Ryan steps through the door, exposing a quaint space fit with everything one might need to live.
It’s the guest house behind Lawrence and Lilia’s place, but it’s hardly tiny. In fact, it’s nicer than ninety percent of the full-sized houses in this city. A small kitchen is visible past the living room, a coffee maker and beans sit on the counter, and a bowl of fresh fruit is centered on the table. “Sometimes I sleep in the extra bedroom at the main house if we’re hanging out there and I don’t want to walk back, and because Lilia’s a great cook.”
I laugh. “Makes sense. It seems like such a shame that this sits empty all the time.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back, to a clean, plush, modern bedroom that’s just the right combination of minimalist and luxurious. “It was part of the agreement when Lawrence moved out here.”
“Agreement?”
“With my parents.” He cringes a bit. “My parents are great, and they love us a lot—maybe too much. They wouldn’t let Lawrence move out here until he could afford a place with a back house for them to come stay whenever—and for however long—they’d like.”
“No such thing as a parent loving their child too much,” I say softly. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Yeah,” he says, slowing his pace as we enter the bedroom. “I suppose it is. Anyway, my parents never use it much; they prefer to stay in the main house. But who knows? My mom’s hoping Lawrence and Lilia will be converting the guest bedroom into a child’s room soon, so…I suppose she wants a place to stay when she comes to visit her grandkids.”
“No pressure.”
He laughs. “Lilia is vocal about wanting kids, so she’s not annoyed by it. My mother gave them her blessing to get married on their third date when Lilia mentioned she was one of three girls and wanted at least that many kids herself. My mom loves babies.”
I shake my head, smiling, and I let Ryan guide me to the bed. We perch on it. “They’re a great fit for each other,” I say. “I love watching them together. It’s adorable, but, I don’t know,
it doesn’t make me gag like some couples. Know what I mean?”
He nods. “She’s great for him. He’s really lucky to have her.”
“It takes two to make a great couple,” I say. “She’s lucky too.”
“In some odd way, I guess you’re right,” he says grudgingly. “But I’m still pissed at Lawrence, so I’m not feeling as generous as you.”
“You need to let it go!” I lick my lips playfully, resting a hand on his chest. It’s firm and solid; the beat of his heart is strong underneath his shirt. “Maybe I can help distract you?”
He falls back at my feather-light touch, as if I have the strength of the Hulk, and collapses on the bed. “Ravish me.”
I swing one leg over his waist, so I’m straddling him. He’s got on jeans and a button-down shirt that’s open at the neck may be the sexiest thing I’ve seen him in yet. My fingers reach for the buttons and flick them open.
When his t-shirt is revealed, I pause for a moment and admire.
“Like what you see?” he asks, teasing.
“Shut up! I’m ogling you.”
His eyes crinkle with a smile, those chocolate eyes lined with devilish thoughts, his hair playfully mussed, hanging just a little too far over his eyes. “Ogle away, but first, let me do this.”
This turns out to be a pretty great surprise.
His fingernails dig into my skin and pull me toward him. I’m situated on his lap, and I can feel every inch of him beneath me. It’s erotic, even though our jeans are a barrier between us. I grip his arms hard enough to leave a mark, a gasp hissing from my lips as I adjust so that we’re fitted perfectly through the fabric, but it’s not enough.
“I need you,” he says. “I can’t wait any longer, Andi.”
“Okay, I’m done ogling,” I say. “Take your pants off.”
“Your wish is my command.”
I rest a hand against his chest, pushing him back. “On second thought, you can wait for me this time.”