by S. R. Grey
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Hate to break it to you, but there is no ‘us.’”
“No, but there could be.”
Wow, this man is persistent.
Nonetheless, I reply with a solid, “I don’t think so.”
Lars chuckles. “You sure are stubborn, aren’t you? Funny, Caleb didn’t mention that.”
Curious, I ask, “What exactly did he say about me?”
“He said you were pretty.”
Lars’s voice is so smooth and sexy, and he just said I was pretty.
Gah!
Well, he’s really just parroting what Caleb said.
But still.
Quietly, and still in that hot-as-hell voice, he adds, “He was right about that, by the way.”
Oh my God, kill me now.
My resistance is waning, so I murmur a halfhearted, “Stop.”
I must be blushing like crazy.
My cheeks are burning.
They grow even warmer when Lars says, “He also said you were always up for fun and you’re laid-back. I think I saw more of that at the theatre, though.”
Waving my hand, I reply, “Okay, enough.”
Lars shrugs. “Hey, you asked me what Caleb said.”
“Yeah, I did. But let’s get back to me being stubborn.”
Confused, he asks, “Huh?”
I can’t tell him I have to change the subject. It’s far safer to talk about my shortcomings than listen to him compliment me.
But since he’s seems truly boggled, I clarify, “What I mean is that I am stubborn. You were right. So have you given up yet?”
Looking over at me intently, Lars raises one dark brow. “Do you want me to give up, Becca? If you really, truly do, I will leave you alone.” He places his hand on the passenger side door handle, like he’s about to get out of the car. “Just give me the word and I’ll leave, no questions asked.”
I blow out a breath as I think it over.
Do I really want him gone?
He is kind of wearing me down.
And it’s not like I never want to see him again.
Not to mention, I have been thinking about him a lot lately, probably to an unhealthy extent.
Yeah, this gorgeous man has starred in far too many of my fantasies since the night at the theatre.
Clearly, he is the one I want.
So should I give him a chance and go out with him?
I want to deep down inside.
But there must be a condition, one that’ll protect my heart.
Softly, I say to Lars, “I don’t think I want you to give up.”
Looking like he’s just won this round, he murmurs, “That’s what I thought.”
But it’s me who delivers the knockout punch when I retort, “I will go out with you, yes. But only as a friend.”
Friend-Zoned
“Wait, what?”
Becca says, “You heard me.”
Holy hell, I sure did.
I’ve just been friend-zoned.
And here I thought I had her ready to capitulate.
Good thing I like her enough that I’ll take what I can get.
So friend-zoned it is… for now.
Yeah, right.
We’ll see how long that lasts once I woo her.
I’m not about to show my hand, though, so I simply agree. “Sure, okay. I can live with us being friends only.”
Becca doesn’t look like she believes me.
Wise girl.
Sounding skeptical, she asks, “Really, Lars? Can you really just be my friend?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Becca, I really can.”
“You sure are feisty,” she remarks.
“Ha! You don’t know the half of it. I’ll show you feisty, woman.”
I’m about to lean over and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her—fuck this friends crap already—but she holds up her hand.
“Ah, ah, ah, hold up there, bud. You do realize ‘friends only’ means there will be no repeats of the night at the movie theatre?”
I grumble, “Right, right. Okay, I get it. No kissing.”
“And no groping,” she adds.
“No groping, either. I got that too.”
She sounds unsure when she whispers, “And definitely, definitely no sex.”
Eyeing her suspiciously, I ask, “Are these rules for me, or are they actually for you?”
“Very funny, jackass.” She pushes my shoulder, but of course she can’t budge me. “For your information, they’re for both of us.”
I hold up my hands. “All right, okay, I give up. We’ll play it your way.”
“Good. Now that we have that established, when should we go out?”
I crack a smile. “Eager, aren’t we, friend?”
Shaking her head, her soft blonde curls bouncing, she tells me, “You are so arrogant. You know this, right? I mean, you have to. It’s not just tonight. You were like this at the theatre too.”
“Whatever.” I snort. “Arrogant, my ass. I prefer to call it confidence.”
“See what I mean?” She throws up her hands. “Good thing we’re going to be just friends.”
“Yeah”—I roll my eyes—“good thing.”
It totally is not, but like I told her, I can play her game. What she doesn’t realize is that I plan to win in the end, meaning she will be mine. I am eventually going to have her under me, screaming out my name in pleasure.
Becca, breaking me from my dirty thoughts, asks, “Do you want to go out as friends or not?”
“I want to,” I confirm. “I told you as much. So yeah, let’s make a plan.”
“Okay, when should we go out?”
Again, her eagerness amuses me.
Maybe that does make me sound cocky, but who cares?
I’m all about winning.
And I plan to win her.
I mean, look at her in that slinky black dress and thigh-high boots. Becca is sexy and beautiful.
Wait, that gives me an idea…
I tell her as much, and she says, “What kind of an idea?”
“I think we should go out on our first date—as friends, of course—right now.”
Her brows shoot up. “Go out now?”
“Yeah, why not? We still need to eat dinner, right?”
Blinking over at me and looking cute as hell, she says, “Should we go back into the restaurant, then?”
I shake my head. “Nah, Caleb and Jodi have probably already ordered their food. They may even be eating.” Grinning over at her mischievously, I add, “What do you say we ditch them and go out and do our own thing?”
I can tell she likes the idea. Becca may be a runner, but Caleb was right when he said she’s up for fun.
This girl is definitely coming out of her shell.
I like that.
It means we can be real with each other.
Becca agrees on starting our first “friends” date right away, and asks enthusiastically. “Do you want to follow me, or should I follow you?”
I don’t want to complicate things, so I suggest, “How about if we leave my car here and take yours? That is, if you’re cool with driving me back after dinner.”
Playfully, she tells me, “As long as you behave, you’ll have a ride.”
“Oooh…” I pretend to shudder. “Tough talk from such a pretty woman.”
“That’s right,” she warns. “So you’ll be good?”
“I promise. I’ll be a gem.”
“Cool. Now we just need to decide where we should go.”
Harder Than I Thought
After giving Lars a little bit of a hard time—all in fun, of course—I say, “Cool. Now we just need to decide where we should go.”
Looking contemplative, but smartass-y as well—no surprise there—he replies, “I think we should go someplace low-key and friend-like. We’re going to have to think about it. This could take a while.”
He’s such a snot.
A gorgeous snot, but a snot nonetheless.<
br />
Sighing, I remark, “I see you’re going to be one of those kinds of friends.”
“What kind of friend is that?” he asks, grinning over at me. “Would it be the ‘hot’ kind? Or maybe the ‘super-intelligent’ kind?”
“My God.” I throw my hands up in the air for the second time tonight. “You’re impossible. And by the way, you just proved my point. You’re clearly the ‘difficult’ kind of friend.”
I don’t add that he’s right on one count, though—Lars is definitely the hottest friend I’ve ever had.
He’s also the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss so badly.
Stop!
I can totally do this friend thing.
After all, it’s my idea.
Why did I choose this again?
Ah, yes, I’m protecting my heart.
Wise move, seeing as Lars is total heartbreaker material.
Clearly trying to prove he’s not difficult, he comes up with an idea on where we should go. “How about we just grab some pizza and beer somewhere? Is that simple enough for you?”
I frown, glancing down at my dress and then over at him in his suit. “We’re a little dressed up for pizza and beer, don’t you think?”
He shrugs. “Nah, and who cares, anyway? Let’s just do what we want.”
“All right, pizza and beer it is.” I put the car in gear and add, “Lucky for you, the best pizza shop in all of Columbus is just down the road.”
“Cool. I’ve been trying to find good pizza in this town.”
“Then you’re going to love this place,” I reply.
I turn out of the lot and head down the road to my favorite pizza place in the whole wide world.
“Prepare to be wowed,” I tell Lars.
I feel his eyes on me as he murmurs, “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been wowed tonight.”
“Er… uh…”
Since I’m trying to keep things platonic, I just ignore him and keep on driving.
Secretly, though, I’m melting from his compliment.
When we arrive at the pizza joint, which is an old repurposed warehouse, and head inside, Lars is quickly recognized by several patrons.
Fans rush up to him, asking for autographs.
He signs a few—very graciously, I note—and then the hostess leads us to a private booth in the back.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize who you were in the theatre,” I remark once we’re alone.
“Must’ve been the ball cap,” Lars says. “And it was pretty dark in there.”
I tap my menu to my chin. “It wasn’t just that. I mean, I watch football and all, but I guess I never really pay attention to the players’ faces. The interviews and all that side stuff, I generally tune out. That’s more Jodi’s vibe.”
“Ah.” Lars nods. “That makes sense.”
Chuckling, I add, “It’s also kind of wild you’re the football player those two have been trying to set me up with since the fall.”
“It is kind of funny,” he agrees. “Maybe they know us better than we know ourselves.”
We’re veering beyond “friends” territory, so I warn, “Lars.”
“Okay, okay.” He opens his menu and changes the subject. “What should we order? Thin crust, deep dish, toppings, no toppings? This is your favorite pizza place, so it’s totally your call.”
“Let’s go with the deep dish,” I say. “It’s so good. There are big chunky tomatoes in the sauce and lots of mozzarella cheese. Oh, and speaking of toppings, is just pepperoni okay with you? You’ll be able to fully taste the awesomeness of the pizza if we don’t overload it with too much.”
“Sure. That works for me,” Lars says.
Our waitress arrives and we order our pizza, but opt for soft drinks instead of beer, seeing as we both have to drive.
When she leaves, Lars levels me with a look like he’s dying to ask me a million questions.
That’s fine.
I have some of my own that I’d like to ask—like why must he be so tall, dark, and handsome?
Yeah, no, better to keep that question to myself.
When he continues to just stare over at me, I ask, “What?”
“I was just thinking…” he begins.
“Thinking about what? Do share.”
“Well, besides the fact that you’re Jodi’s best friend and share a business with her, I know almost nothing about you.”
“You know I don’t pay attention to football players’ faces when I’m watching the games.”
He chuckles. “Yes, there is that.”
“You also know I was born and raised in Columbus.”
He sighs. “Yes, and you know I’m from Florida. But what about you, Becca? What do you like, besides old movies and deep-dish pizza with pepperoni?”
I want to say “I like you,” but that could be misconstrued.
No, it definitely would.
Damn, this is harder than I thought it would be.
But I know I can do it.
I can stay strong, even when faced with the onslaught of Lars’s hotness.
Tapping my chin, I murmur, “What do I like, what do I like? Let me think… Oh, I know. I like sushi and fast cars.”
“I like those things too,” Lars replies with a smile. “But give me something more substantial, something more you.”
“Besides that I’m stubborn,” I tease.
“Yes,” he counters quietly, “besides that.”
“Okay.” I sigh. “I guess if we’re truly going to be friends, we need to know each other on a deeper level.”
“We do. So spill.”
“All right. Well, I like sticking up for my friends. And I like being there for people.”
“Those are both great qualities,” Lars says softly.
“Like with Jodi,” I go on. “She’s been my best friend since junior high school. I had her back then, and I still have her back. That’s just the way I am—loyal. Jodi’s like a sister to me, which is nice since I grew up with a bunch of brothers.”
Lars’s brows shoot up. “No way. I have a lot of brothers too. How many in your family?”
“Five,” I reply. “We’re spread out all over nowadays, but we try to get together for family dinners whenever we can.”
“Ah, that sounds nice.” He nods. “So you’re the only girl?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. I have four brothers. No sisters at all.”
“Wow, all boys,” I remark. “That must’ve been fun growing up.”
“Yeah, it was.” He chuckles. “My poor mom, though. We were a handful. Speaking of which, I bet it was an adventure being the only girl in a family with five boys.”
Our pizza and soft drinks arrive, and we each grab a slice.
While I wait for mine to cool, I reply, “It was a little crazy with all brothers. The good thing, though, is that they taught me to take care of myself.”
Lars pretends to be scared. “Uh-oh, should I be worried?”
Pointing over at him with the pizza slice I just lifted from my plate, I say, “Like I told you earlier, just behave yourself and you’ll be fine.”
“Noted,” he replies, smiling.
We dive into our food then, and I think about how I need to behave too. I have to try and not send Lars mixed signals.
But how am I supposed to do that when I freaking want him so much?
I tell myself I’m just a sucker for a man in a dark suit.
Ah, but we know that’s not true.
He looks good in jeans too.
I think about what would happen if I just said “fuck it” and took him to my bed tonight.
What would it be like to feel him slowly peeling off my dress, kissing his way down my body, licking, tasting, touching—
I let out a little gasp.
“Becca?” Lars is peering over at me curiously, one brow raised.
No wonder.
Besides my misplaced gasp, I’m holding a partially eaten slice of pizza hal
fway to my mouth, staring off into space, thinking lusty thoughts about my friend.
The word “friend” flashes in big neon letters in my head as I pull myself together.
“Sorry,” I say, while waving around my free hand. “I just spaced for a minute. That’s another thing you should know about me. I do that sometimes.”
Not a lie, so that’s good.
Lars smirks at me while I take a big bite of pizza.
“What?” I mumble around the mouthful.
“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head.
Uh oh, I think he knows exactly what was on my mind, or some version of it.
Crap.
This man is far too perceptive. I’m going to have to do a much better job of masking my feelings.
Starting… right… now.
Go!
She’s Not Fooling Me
If there’s one thing I know besides football, it’s women.
That’s why Becca is not fooling me one little bit.
Even though she’s trying to act all cool and nonchalant, her giveaway gasp and her sitting here lost in thought clues me in.
Yeah, I know she’s imagining all the things I could do to her if she were to lose that slinky dress.
I’d help her with that too, slipping my hands up under the fabric, lifting it up.
Fuck, now my thoughts are of a sexual nature.
I quickly fix that, though.
Becca wants me friend-zoned, so friend-zoned I shall remain.
See, I can play this game.
Let’s see who breaks first.
Becca schools her features to neutral, and things go back to normal. We eat pizza and talk. She asks me a lot about football, including how I like playing for the Comets.
Leaning back and wiping my mouth with a cloth napkin, I say, “It’s okay. The guys are great, but our team’s not the best in its current state. I hope we can turn things around next season. Not only did we have a losing record this year, but we had a lot of drama with our quarterback.”
Becca nods knowingly. “I’m sure you guys will turn things around. A few strategic player changes and the Comets will surely make the playoffs.”
“Shit, I hope you’re right. That would be amazing.”
“Just keep the faith, Lars. Never give up.”