“Thank you,” I say, and then wait for a long moment. Neither of us moves. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride home?” Ryan’s eyebrows crinkle in concern. “We can figure something out for the morning. I can pick you up before class.”
“No, I’m fine. The coffee helped, and it’s been almost two hours since my last drink. Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”
Ryan leans over the center console, bringing his hand behind my head and pulling me in toward him gently, as if giving me every opportunity to say no. I don’t, because I’m not insane. Ryan Pierce is about to kiss me, and I’m going to let it happen.
But he doesn’t kiss me; he merely brushes his lips against my cheek and whispers in my ear. “I’m going to see your standup routine, sooner or later,” he says. “Mark my words.”
I freeze. “Okay,” I say, then get out of the car before I do something stupid and pucker up my lips for a kiss that will never come. “Have a great night.”
“Andi—”
“I’ll talk to you soon!” I’m already halfway out the door as he calls my name. I walk slowly to my car, giving him plenty of time to get my attention in case he has something else to say. He doesn’t, apparently.
I climb into my clunker and make my way home on nothing but a prayer. I head straight to Peretti’s Pizza, my mind whirling with whatever I got myself into tonight.
Shit, I think, making my way inside the restaurant.
I’m Ryan’s fake girlfriend.
A few hours ago, I thought it was the best proposal ever.
But now, I’m not so sure. Being so close to Ryan but not being able to touch him is like being put in a room with an ice cream buffet and being told you can only look, maybe drool a little. Ryan Pierce is my ice cream buffet, and I want him bad.
CHAPTER 17
Ryan
I let her walk away. I should call her back, press my lips to hers like I know she wants. I can feel it, the electricity between us. Unless I’ve completely lost my touch, Andi wants me too. I thought she wasn’t looking for anything physical, but I am beginning to think that’s not accurate.
When I leaned in close, her breath hitched in her throat. She inhaled like she wanted something more than a wave goodbye or a ride home. I wanted more, too, but I missed the boat. Now it’s too late, and she’s halfway home while I’m stuck with a hard-on that won’t quit.
So I climb into the shower—again—and take care of myself before getting into bed. I don’t have an early meeting tomorrow, but I do have a chat with the Ice Queen at lunch, and lunch is going to come fast—just like I did while thinking about Andi Peretti and her curvy little figure.
On a whim, I pull out my phone and send her a text. It’s simple, but I hope it’s direct.
Ryan: Preseason scrimmage in LA next Saturday. Come watch, and don’t make plans after.
My phone beeps a second later with her response.
Andi: Is this a date?
I wait a few minutes before responding, but only because I can’t think of what to say. I know I’m not letting her walk away again. If she comes to my game, watches me play, and lets me take her out to dinner after, I’ll do everything in my power to get her back here. Alone. Naked.
I decide not to mince my words and respond quickly.
Ryan: Yes. Clothing is optional.
CHAPTER 18
Andi
“So, can you get us tickets?” Gio asks, leaning against the pizza counter while Angela fawns over his orange self. “Me and Ang wanna go.”
Two weeks have passed since my deal was made with Ryan. I meant to go to his game last Saturday, but I was forced to work last minute by my dad, and one doesn’t argue with my dad when he is hangry.
Ryan and I tried to hang out afterward, but he’d gotten a minor injury during the game and needed to ice and take care of it. Since then, we’ve been playing phone tag, and I have to admit the whole thing is fun—really fun.
He texts me horrible jokes to use for stand-up, and I text him back offering awful hockey advice. It sounds stupid, but…it’s our thing.
“I can’t,” I say to Gio, Angela’s boy-toy of the week. He’s even oranger than she is, and probably spray tans more. I’m getting dizzy with the fumes from the pair of them. “Sorry.”
Gio frowns, then reaches across the counter and drags Angela into his arms. He dips her so low her head nearly smacks the ground, and he gives her a sloppy, smoochy kiss. “See you at home, baby. I’m taking you out to dinner then. Screw hockey.”
Angela sighs with gusto as Gio leaves. “Isn’t he a hunk?”
I make a noncommittal noise in my throat. After catching a glimpse of Ryan in a towel, an orange-faced Ken doll just doesn’t compare. “So are you two a thing now?”
“A thing?” Angela grins. “I don’t know what you’d call it, but he slept over last night.”
I shriek, pointing a finger in her face. “I knew it! You turned all lovey-dovey on me. I knew as soon as he called you baby that you’d slept with him! I thought you were just hooking up, but is this heading toward relationship territory?”
She bites her lip, throwing a pizza in the oven before turning back to me. “He’s really sweet.”
“I’m happy for you.” I scoot around the counter, giving her a little slap on the rear end. “Get out of here. Go shower. Get ready for the big date.”
“I’m supposed to close with you tonight.”
“I got it,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Go enjoy. Young love, so precious.”
“You’re sure you can handle it?”
“A few pizzas? No problem. My dad’ll be here to cook, and I’ll do deliveries if it gets too busy. Don’t worry.”
“You really are the best.” She air-kisses my cheeks and disappears from the restaurant with a finger wave.
I prepare another pizza crust then pull out my phone and text Lisa.
Me: Want an extra twenty bucks plus tips? Need backup for tonight!
Her reply is immediate.
Lisa: I’ve got two hours. Be there in five.
Two hours later, Lisa and I have made and delivered six pizzas. I give her twenty bucks, she takes home another thirty in tips, and we are both happy. I’m just waving goodbye to her car as my dad arrives, ready to start closing up shop. He sort of comes and goes at the restaurant as he feels like it; I guess that’s a perk of being the boss man.
I say hi to my dad but am interrupted by the ring of the restaurant phone line. Papa Peretti answers it and listens with a strange look on his face. I watch while wiping down the counter.
“Twenty?” he says, his voice weak. “Twenty.”
My shoulders stiffen. Though I can’t be sure, I have a pretty good guess as to who might be on the line.
“No, that’s not a problem. She’ll be right there.” My dad hangs up the phone and gives me another strange expression. “We need twenty smiley face pizzas.”
“Dad, we’re about to close for the night!” I protest, wishing Angela had picked any night besides this one to go on a date with her new sleepover buddy. “I just let Lisa go. There’s no way I can do it all myself.”
“Then it’s you and me, kiddo.”