Ryan hasn’t once moved his hand from my lower back, a choice I decide to appreciate. Bruce, however, is protective of his fellow comics and growls at Ryan for ID.
“Come on, Bruce,” I say. “He’s with me. Lighten up.”
“It’s fine.” Ryan hands over his ID with a smile. “I don’t mind.”
I glance with suspicion at Ryan—he looks positively giddy. That’s when I realize he probably never gets asked for his ID because people recognize him. This is exciting for him, I think, in a strange way.
Bruce grunts a moody move along.
“Nice guy,” Ryan murmurs, squeezing me tight as we slip through the doors. “A friend of yours?”
“Yeah, he’s a softy inside. He just watches out for the regulars.” I smile. “So, can I buy you a soda? I don’t have enough cash on me for anything more.”
Ryan opens his mouth to respond, but I interrupt him first.
“Wait!” I yank out the cash from the pizza delivery. “I have your tip. Would you like a glass of wine? Let’s go all out tonight.”
“I’ll take a beer. Driving,” he says as an explanation. “And I have to head back to Minnesota next week for some preseason training.”
“Minnesota?”
He shrugs. “Until the deal’s done out here, I’m still with the Stars. My duties are still to my team there.”
Ryan seems bothered by something, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. Before I can beat him to it, he orders a beer for him and a glass of wine for me and pays in cash. Then he selects a table near the front and pulls a chair out, gesturing for me to slip into it.
His whole gentleman act is dangerous.
I could get used to this, and that’s the last thought I need to be having right after agreeing to be his friend-date to his brother’s wedding. I mean, he basically told me that the only reason he trusts himself to behave is because he doesn’t want to have sex with me.
Which is unfortunate, because I’m thinking that adding a one-night stand into the mix of this whole fake-girlfriend thing might’ve sweetened the pot. We’ll see. Maybe he’s open to negotiation.
“Why do I feel like you’ve never been with a man who deserves you?” Ryan leans over, his breath tickling my ear. “You act as if I shouldn’t be doing this—opening doors, buying you drinks, driving you around town.”
“I just…” I pause, flustered. “I’m not used to it.”
“Then you’ve been doing it all wrong.”
I look down at my drink. It’s a reflex, not because I want pity. I just don’t have anything else to say. That’s why I’m still single, I suppose—I’ve never met a man who makes me feel good enough—not until Ryan.
“Hey.” He reaches out, tilts my chin up. “You just didn’t know what you were missing. Now you know. Andi, you deserve to have someone open your door and buy you a drink. Don’t settle for the assholes that can’t do something as simple as that.”
I swallow, nodding along. Usually, I’m a dry-eyed, stoic, laugh-in-the-face-of-sadness type girl, but something about Ryan makes my soul pour out words, share my stories with him. Something about him makes me feel safe.
“That’s not everything.” Ryan slips his arm around my shoulder, his voice dropping low. “You deserve a man who can kiss you until you forget your name, a man who can take you to bed, satisfy your every need, and then bring you coffee the next morning. You deserve all of that, and so much more.”
“Thanks, Ryan, but you don’t have to say all this—”
“Nothing I can say will change your mind,” he offers. “Except for you. I’m just telling you the truth.”
My eyes are really smarting now, and I’m thinking it was pretty stupid to agree to be this man’s friend. If I hadn’t just agreed to friendship, I might stick my tongue down his throat right now, and I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t remember my name when he kissed me back. Sometimes I hate being sensible.
“You’re sweet,” I start, but he shakes his head for me to quiet.
“I can see the doubt in your eyes, and I don’t like it. You’ve got a lot to offer this world, Andi, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an asshat.” He pauses for a sip of beer, and then changes subjects slightly. “I’m not saying that I’m the man for you, I’m just trying to tell you that there’s someone out there who’ll treat you well.”
I clear my throat, still in slight disbelief that he cares enough to say anything at all. He doesn’t have to, that’s for sure; with the looks he’s getting from other women in here, he could have any one of them in bed by midnight—myself included, I’m beginning to realize.
Those dark, soulful eyes of his alternate between alert and sensual, charming and thoughtful. The shaggy mess of hair on his head accents his tanned skin and thick, muscled arms hidden underneath a sweater that’s as soft as a minx.
Unfortunately, the only words of his that I can focus on are I’m not the man for you—of course.
“Show’s starting.” Ryan leans back, his eyes focused on the stage. “Do you see your friend yet?”
I shake my head. Lisa’s nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, the waiter stops by just then and deposits another glass of red wine. I take a sip. As I sit back, letting the wine sink in and the hot lights warm my skin, I take some time to look around the room.
The space itself isn’t big, but it is packed tonight. The comic who canceled last minute has a decent following, and the other comics on the roster were C-listers. We’re not talking SNL cast members here; we’re talking actors who’ve had one-liners in movies, recognizable faces who get paid to play gigs, and not the other way around. It is the next step up for Lisa, and I couldn’t be more proud.
“I thought you’d never make it!” a voice hisses in my ear. “I was about to order a pizza to the stage just so you’d get here in time. Do you see the people sitting there? Real live people! That are here to listen to me!” Lisa squeaks as she talks, her breath getting faster and faster as she scans the room.
I grin, kissing her cheek. “You’ll do great. Oh, and Lisa, this is Ryan.”
Lisa straightens up then, stiff as a telephone pole, and she stares at Ryan…just stares, and stares, and stares. Her mouth opens a little bit, and I raise a hand and manually close her jaw.
“Hi.” Ryan extends a hand. “Andi speaks very, very highly of you. Can’t wait to see the show.”
Lisa shakes his hand up and down with less emotion than most robots. When she speaks, she’s looking at Ryan, but I think she’s talking to me. “You brought him?”
“Yes, as I said, this is my friend Ryan,” I repeat.
“You’re friends?” She turns to face me. “I’m your friend. He’s the guy you want to bang.”
Ryan’s eyebrows rise slightly, but he doesn’t look all that dismayed by Lisa’s huge mouth.
“I didn’t say that,” I say. “She’s drunk on stage fright.”
“No,” Lisa says, her jaw still open. “You said it yourself. You want to—”
“I didn’t say that,” I interrupt, my face heating. “Lisa, will you relax? Ryan’s here as a favor because we were drinking wine, and he was sober enough to drive.”