The statement catches me slightly off guard. Of course, Stevie told Zanders that her brother and I are faking it, but I hope it’s not much more than our small circle who knows. The less people who are aware, the safer our lie is.
“Your guy has practically ignored me since we talked to his boss. I could make another one of these athletes my real boyfriend and I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t even notice.”
“I’m pretty sure he’d notice.” Zanders’ chest bubbles with an arrogant laugh while holding his phone out to me.
Ryan
Keep an eye on Indy for me. She has no clue that these guys are eye-fucking the hell out of her in that goddamn dress.
Finding him again, his back is to me as he chats with more fans, and I wouldn’t believe he sent that text unless I saw it with my own two eyes.
“Indigo!” Rio exclaims, holding me out at arm’s length. “You look so…”
I don’t fill in the blank for him. Instead, I give him a moment to choose his descriptive word. Rio is lovable, excitable, and young, but he needs a little coaching when it comes to his approach with women, and we’ve been working on it.
“Bang…” He catches Zanders’ raised brow. “eautiful.”
“Bangeutiful?” I ask.
“Beautiful. You look beautiful, Indy.” He turns towards my friend. “Now, Stevie, you look smoking hot. I’m talking drop-dead gorgeous. Every guy in here is probably thinking about—”
I slap a palm over his mouth, trying not to laugh. “You’ve got a death wish,” I inform him as Zanders arches a challenging brow in his over-confident way.
Rio’s green eyes shine with mischief because he’s a bit of a shit disturber, though always in good fun. He enjoys getting under his teammates’ skin and Stevie is the easiest way to do it.
“Kidding. Kidding. But this blue dress does look great on you, Stevie.”
“Thanks, Rio,” she laughs.
Zanders wraps two possessive arms around her. “Yeah,” he mumbles under his breath. “And it’s going to look even better on my bedroom floor tonight.”
“Rio, come on. Let’s go dance before the Raptors lose two of their best players tonight. One to murder and the other to a prison sentence.”
Rio and I take the crowded dance floor. With a small pull of his wrist, he brings me into his chest where I place a hand on his shoulder. He’s different on the dance floor. He leads with grace and confidence, completely opposite in his approach with women.
“Where did you learn to dance?”
“Six years of ballroom lessons. I was a terrible skater when I was a kid, believe it or not. I had two left feet, so my mother put me in dance lessons to learn balance. I was the best skater on my team a year later.”
“And yet, you kept dancing for five more years?”
He pushes me out, spinning me with complete control. “Do you know what the girl to guy ratio was in my dance class? I had numbers on my side.”
As usual, Rio makes me laugh.
“That,” he continues. “And I may have enjoyed it.”
I cock my head with a thoughtful smile. “Regardless that we love to give you a hard time, one day, someone is going to be very lucky to land you.”
That olive skin tints with a shy smile. “Thanks, Ind.”
We stay on the dance floor for two songs, chatting and catching up. I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight. Even though Ryan is stiff as a board, and probably blew our cover, I had fun seeing my friends outside of work. It was nice to dress up, go out, and socialize.
But as the beginning of song number three begins to fill the space, Rio’s expression drops, that typically goofy smile falling into a flat line.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He swallows, looking over my shoulder as we continue to sway along the dance floor. “I’m pretty sure your fake boyfriend wants to very real kill me.”
I still. “Geez. Does everyone know it’s fake?”
“Stevie told Zanders and Zanders told me because, Indy, I was freaking the fuck out.”
“Rio. You and I, we’re friends. We’ve been over this.”
He scoffs, his head jolting back. “I’m not talking about you. I thought one of my closest friends was dating Ryan Shay. Ryan freaking Shay. You know how I feel about him.”
I roll my eyes before peeking over my shoulder to find Ryan sitting at a table, leaning back in his chair, legs sprawled like a king as he mindlessly sketches the rim of his glass. His stance might seem informal, but his stare is venomous, pointed right at Rio.
“Don’t worry, it’s not you. He didn’t want to stay long, and I think I lost track of time.”
“Indy.” Rio stops moving completely. “I might be inexperienced when it comes to women, but I’m still a man. That right there is jealousy.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Trust me. I know that look.”
“Well, then he’s doing his job. Pretending to be my boyfriend.”
And finally knocking off something from his bucket list. Would’ve been a good night for a slow dance, but I’ll take the jealousy.
“Give the man a fucking Oscar then.” Rio’s eyes continue to flicker to my roommate. “As much as it’d be an absolute honor to be punched in the face by Ryan Shay, I don’t know that a fundraiser is the best place for that.”
“I should get going.” I slide my arms around him in a hug. “I’ll see you on the plane.”
As I make my way to Ryan, he doesn’t look up at me. Instead, his eyes track Rio as my friend leaves the dance floor, and it isn’t until I take the seat directly in front of him, blocking his view, that he breaks his stare.
“Well, hi there.” Ryan’s middle finger traces the edge of his whiskey glass with cool indifference.
“Are you okay?”
I’m acutely aware that my knees are between his sprawled legs as I sit facing him.
“I’m good.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Do you want to stay?”
“You said we were only staying for an hour and a half, and I’m pretty sure it’s been much longer than that.”
“I know what I said, but do you want to stay? Are you having a good time?”
He sits up, bringing his legs in, and trapping my knees between his. The shiny pink satin of my dress contradicts his thick legs in black suit pants, but I won’t lie, I like the juxtaposition.
“I am having a good time.”
“Then we’ll stay.” He takes a small swig of the whiskey in his glass.
His previous hard glare is now soft as he looks at me, and the slight tilt at his lips is a sight I’ll never get sick of.
Without looking away, he lifts his hand to push a few fallen strands of hair behind my ear. The pad of his thumb skims the skin of my throat, gentle and delicate but with all the confidence in the world for a man who has been nothing short of uncomfortable with faking it.
I find myself relaxing into his touch. “What are you doing?” I whisper lazily.
His eyes softly trace my face before he discreetly nods his head to the side. “Pretending.”
Oh.
His GM must be here, watching us.
My roommate stands, slipping out of his suit jacket and slinging it over my shoulders.
“Ryan—”
“Your dress has had its moment. Trust me, no one has kept their eyes off you, but you’re shivering. You’re taking my jacket.”
I’m not shivering because I’m cold.