This is ridiculous. I’m worse than a teenager. I jump when the buzzer to my apartment rings. My nerves are on edge.
Ben grins at me when I open the door for him. He looks at me up and down and then sniffs the air suspiciously.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with our hot physiotherapist inviting you to her birthday party, would it? Got the hots for Meg, hey?”
“What? No!”
“Well, this is the first time in months that I’ve seen you with product in your hair. To me, it looks like you’re trying to impress someone.”
“Shut up, Ben.”
“I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I’d do her.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I grunt. Ben stares at me, frowning. He nods slowly and then shrugs.
“Whatever, man. You got any beer?”
“Fridge.”
Ben stares at me for another second and then chuckles. He walks to the fridge and grabs us a couple beers. I slump down on the couch and nod to him when he hands me the cold bottle.
“Thanks.”
“So, how did you manage to get invited to this?”
“She gave me her number and told me to stop by. It’s just casual, it’s nothing.”
Ben whistles. He takes a big slug of beer and then starts telling me about his latest conquest. Usually, I’d be laughing along with him but right now, all I can think of is Meghan. I glance at the kitchen counter, where I’ve wrapped up her homemade banana bread.
Is that lame? I actually made her banana bread for her birthday. I had to buy a loaf pan because I didn’t even own one. I called my mom for the recipe and she started quizzing me as to why I was making banana bread. I think she knew it was for a girl.
And now, what am I going to do? Show up at a fancy cocktail bar with a loaf of banana bread under my arm?
Ben stands up and I know it’s time to leave. He tosses his bottle in the recycling bin and stares at me expectantly. I hesitate, eyeing the banana bread.
“Fuck it,” I say under my breath. I grab the loaf of bread and tuck it under my arm. I glance at Ben, who’s frowning at me. “Let’s go,” I say.
“Are we having a bake sale?”
“No,” I say.
“Ah.”
He’s standing in front of me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to explain. Instead, I head for the front door. If I actually talk about the fact that I’m a professional football player bringing a loaf of homemade banana bread to a woman I have a teenage-level crush on, I might just chicken out and not go at all.
No, it’s better just to go and not think about it too much.
I want to see the look on Meghan’s face when I give it to her. I want to make her laugh and see her brilliant smile. In a way, I want her to know that I liked the way she marched up to me at the coffee shop and told me off for eating ‘her’ banana bread.
That coffee shop exchange is the first time I’ve been surprised by a woman in a long, long time. Sure, it was a little weird, but I don’t mind. Me carrying a loaf of bread to a bar is weird, so at least we’ll be on the same level.
“Did you text her?”
I’m startled. I’d forgotten that Ben was beside me.
I shake my head. “Nah. I figure I’ll just show up.”
“Element of surprise,” he muses. “Nice.”
“Surprise bake sale,” I grin.
Ben chuckles. “You’re not going to tell me what that’s about, are you?”
“Nope.”
We get into the limo service I’ve organized and head towards the bar. It’s well after 10pm, so they should be there by now. Ben and I are quiet during the drive, and I can feel his eyes on me.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I grunt without turning my head. Ben chuckles.
“Just wondering how she got under your skin so fast.”
That makes me look at him. My best friend grins.
“She didn’t.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut up, Ben. You’re constantly fucking smitten,” I grumble. “You fall in love faster than a fourteen-year-old girl at a One Direction concert.”
“So, you’re saying you’re smitten?”
I don’t answer and Ben just laughs. He punches me in the arm.
“Lighten up, Andy,” he chuckles. “It happens. That’s what women do to us, we can’t help it.”
“Don’t call me Andy,” I grunt. The car stops outside the bar and I thank the driver before climbing out. I don’t even have to say anything to the bouncer, he just unhooks the velvet rope with a nod of his head.
As soon as we’re inside, it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. I stand near the entrance as I glance around the room, looking for her.
Then, I hear it: someone shouting my name
“Andrew!”
I turn around, scanning the crowd. I’m not sure where the voice came from, and my eyes are still adjusting to the dark. The bar is almost full, with people sitting at tables and a small dance floor full of half-drunk dancers.
Then I see her.
She’s smiling so hard her face is beaming. Her eyes are shining, even in the low light of the cocktail lounge, and her cheeks are rosy pink.
And my God, her dress. I’ve only ever seen her in the shapeless polo she has to wear for work, and even then I knew she had a body to die for. But now that I’m seeing it in that little red dress, I can hardly think straight.
Ben whistles beside me and I snap back to reality. Meghan stops when she reaches us, putting a hand on my arm and placing a soft kiss on my cheek. She does the same to Ben, and then flicks her eyes to me.
“I can’t believe you came!” She exclaims, beaming. “And Ben! I haven’t seen you in a year! How’s the groin?”
“It’s good,” Ben smiles.
“I brought you this.” I thrust the banana bread towards her. It’s wrapped in cellophane, and she grabs it curiously.
As soon as she realizes what it is, she bursts into the most delighted laugh I’ve ever heard.
“Is this…?”
“Yep.”
“You made it?!”
“With my own two hands.” And I only had to call my mother for help once during the entire operation.
Meghan laughs again, shaking her head. She lays another soft kiss on my cheek and my heart thumps. All my doubts about bringing banana bread to the cocktail bar evaporate as Meghan unwraps it, ripping off a big chunk.
She holds up the banana bread, staring at me with a twinkle in her eye.
“You still think this is the best banana bread in New York City?”
“Definitely.”
I glance at Ben, who’s staring at the two of us as is we have four heads. Meghan laughs again.
“This is the moment of truth.”
“Do it.”
Meghan grins at me, and then brings the banana bread to her perfect lips. Her eyes close as her mouth drops open and she bites into the piece of bread in her hands.
The instant it hits her tongue, she makes the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard in my life. Her shoulders drop and she moans, shaking her head from side to side.
“Wow,” she says between bites. Her eyebrows are arched and she shakes her head again. “Wow.”
“I often have that effect on women,” I grin.
“Cool, well, I’m getting a drink, you guys want one?” Ben looks at me with a grin on his lips, and then slips away towards the bar. He places himself beside a pair of tall, busty brunettes, and I turn back to Meghan.
“So, what’s the verdict?”
“You made this yourself?” She asks again, staring at the loaf. She extends it towards me and I break off a piece. I hadn’t tasted it until now, and I have to say, I’m pretty impressed with myself.
Mouth full, I nod. “Yeah.”
“Wow.” She grins, shaking her head.
“What?”
“Well, I was mortifi
ed when you walked into the clinic after our little, uh, altercation at the coffee shop. But now!” She holds up the banana bread. “Now I’d go through that shame all over again if it meant you made me more of this stuff!”
I laugh. “I’ll make you as much banana bread as you want.”
“Be careful,” she laughs. “I don’t think you understand what you’re committing to.”
Warmth passes through my chest and I nod. “Happy birthday, Meg.”
Her eyes soften and her gaze drops to my lips. Then, she clears her throat and slips her hand into mine.
“Come meet my friends.”
8
Meghan
I’m in shock.
Not from the quality of the banana bread—well, maybe a little from the quality of the banana bread—but mostly because Andrew freaking Davis of the New York Giants made me banana bread from scratch for my birthday!
Not only that, but his strong, warm hand is currently clasped with mine as I drag him to my table at the back of the cocktail lounge.
Is this real life?
Maybe thirty really is the new twenty.
My heart is thumping and I feel drunk, even though I’ve only had one glass of champagne. I steal a glance at Andrew and smile. The banana bread in my hand is still warm, so he must have baked it only a couple hours ago.
“Meg!” Ariana says with an arch of her eyebrow. “Who is this?”
“Ari, Naomi, this is Andrew,” I say. My heart is still racing and I can feel the flush in my cheeks getting redder. Naomi stares at me with a knowing look, so I just lift up a shoulder in a half-shrug. She can’t talk about dating clients—she married one of hers.
Ben reappears with a handful of drinks and introduces himself to our little group. Naomi and I already know him from the physio clinic, but his eyes linger on Ari’s. I grin.
“You guys have to taste this banana bread,” I say. “Not only is it the best I’ve ever tasted, it’s also the best birthday cake I’ve ever had!”
“What about the cheesecake I made last year?” Ari says, staring at me with big puppy-dog eyes.
“That one wins for most… unique flavor.” Last year, Ariana made me the worst cheesecake I’ve ever tasted. Bless her, she tried, but we laughed about that one for months. She just giggles, and her eyes flick to Ben’s.
I unwrap the banana bread and look around for something to slice it with. Giving up, I just motion to the bread.
“Tear into it and tell me what you think.”
Ben is the first to dig in, inspecting the loaf and glancing at Andrew.
“This is a first,” he says. “You should be flattered, Meghan. I’ve never seen this guy anywhere near an oven.” He pops it in his mouth and nods. “Not bad.”
“Not bad!” Andrew exclaims. His hand drifts to the small of my back and I lean into him.
As we laugh, eat, and drink overpriced cocktails, all I can think of is the warmth of Andrew’s body next to mine. His hand drifts down to rest on the top of my ass, his fingers sinking ever so slightly into my flesh.
A current of electricity rips through my body, and all I can hear is the roar of my heartbeat in my ears. The cocktail lounge melts away, and suddenly it feels like it’s just me and him, alone.
How is it possible to have such a visceral reaction to one touch? I take a deep breath to try to calm myself, but then Andrew’s scent fills my nostrils and my head is spinning again. He smells like a forest after the rain—fresh, clean, with a hint of earthy musk. It’s intoxicating.
I lift my champagne flute to my lips and take a sip. My hand is trembling.
“You okay?” Andrew says, dipping his head near my ear. “You look a bit frazzled.”
“What can I say, banana bread has that effect on me,” I grin. What I want to say is ‘you’re having this effect on me.’
Andrew moves a fraction of an inch closer to me and my body goes wild. My heart thumps, sending waves of desire flooding through my veins. The skin on my arms comes up in goosebumps when it brushes against his side. His fingers squeeze against my hip and I feel like I’m going to fall over.
When was the last time I had sex?
I can’t even remember.
Maybe Naomi is right, I need to loosen up. Although I’m just not sure being infatuated with one of my clients is the way to go.
Ben is sliding over to Ariana, and Naomi is staring at me with laser eyes. She arches an eyebrow, and I ignore her.
“How’s the shoulder?” I shout over the music as I turn to Andrew. His eyes drill into mine.
“It’s fine,” he growls. It sounds like he’s speaking under the ambient sound in the bar, not over it. The timber of his voice makes my blood burn hotter. Butterflies explode in my stomach as his piercing blue eyes stare into mine and then drop to my lips.
I’ve never wanted anyone to kiss me as badly as I want him to kiss me right now.
But he’s a client, and I’m supposed to be a professional.
“Thank you for coming,” I say, trying to cut through the thick, heavy tension between us.
“My pleasure.”
Those two little words send another wave of desire flooding through me. This is out of control.
“And thanks for the loaf. A man who can bake is very, very sexy.”
Who am I? Who has taken over my brain and decided to control what comes out of my mouth? I don’t have time to think about it though, because Andrew takes a step closer to me. His chest is pressed against mine, and his hand is resting on my hip. I bite my lip.
It should be illegal for one man to be this sexy. His strong, chiseled jaw tenses as he swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. His tongue slides out to lick his lips as his eyes stare into mine. He’s perfect.
“Your eyes have little flecks of brown in them,” I say.
“Do they?”
I nod. “Yeah. They’re really blue except for that little bit of brown.”
“Your eyes are incredible.”
His voice is nothing more than a growl. His fingers sink into my hip and I move an inch closer to him. I can feel my nipples hardening to little buds against my bra. My lips part as Andrew’s head dips down. Inch by inch, he gets closer. I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips, and my whole body feels like it’s on fire.
I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. My mind is completely blank, and my body has taken control. With every thump of my heart against my ribcage, another wave of desire courses through my veins. I’m trembling, and it feels like the only think holding me upright is Andrew’s hand on my hip.
His lips are inches from mine. In just a couple seconds, I’ll taste them. My hands slide up his chest and I close my eyes, waiting for his kiss.
Then, with a jerk, I’m pulled to the side.
“Sorry! Hi! Come with me.” Naomi’s hand has a death grip around my bicep. She clamps her arm around mine and drags me towards the bathroom.
“Hey!” I say. “What are you doing?”
“Saving you from yourself,” she says. “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
“You’re married, Naomi! They’re hardly mistakes.”
We turn the corner and push through the bathroom door, and she turns to me. She places her hands on my shoulders and looks me straight in the eye.
“I know. I’m aware that I am probably being a hypocrite right now, but I never told you how hard it was to have that kind of attention. Max isn’t even an NFL player! He’s just—”
“—a regular old billionaire,” I say.
Naomi grins. “Yeah. But there was a lot of media attention. I thought I was going to lose my job! I just don’t want you to do that because Andrew is the first guy in a while to make you laugh.”
Her face is so earnest that it’s hard to be mad at her. She just dragged me away from the one thing that I knew I wanted, but somewhere, deep down, I know she’s right.
I sigh.
“I guess I got a little carried away
.”
“Just take it slow, Meg,” she says. Her eyebrows draw together. “I know it’s been a tough couple of months for you, but you shouldn’t jump into something like this. Especially when it can affect your career. Just get through the next few weeks and then see how it goes. You’re stressed about Vegas, and this isn’t the way to deal with it.”
“You’re right, you are a hypocrite.”
Naomi laughs. “Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry at all.”
“Nope.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I know.”
I sigh. Nothing about this situation is easy.
9
Andrew
I watch Naomi drag Meg away and it’s hard not to get angry. Ben looks up from his conversation with Ariana, frowning.
“Everything okay?”
“I think so,” I say. I look at Ariana but her face is impassable. She just smiles innocently at me, and I chuckle. “I guess Naomi doesn’t approve of me.”
“I don’t know,” Ariana says with a grin. “Maybe she just needed to pee.”
She finishes her drink and winks at me. I nod. “I’ll get the next round.”
By the time I come back to the table, Naomi and Meg are back. Meg smiles at me, but there’s a distance between us that wasn’t there before. It’s as if in the space of a couple minutes, she’s changed her mind about me.
I’m still hard. Being so close to her made my cock stand to attention, and now I shift it uncomfortably as it strains against my pants.
I don’t get a chance to get closer to her again, because as soon as she gets back, she starts making a move to leave. Ariana protests, and I look at Meg, confused.
She opens her mouth as if to say something, and then reconsiders.
“See you at the clinic,” she says to me, and then nods to Ben. “Have a good night.”
She starts to walk away and then stops. I think she might come back and ask me to take her home. A thousand thoughts rush through my head when I think about what that means. My heart speeds up and my palms get sweater. My eyes drift over her curves and my mouth starts to water when I think about tasting every inch of her body.
Engaged to Mr. Perfect: An Accidental Marriage Romance (Mr. Right Series Book 3) Page 4