She turns toward me, eyes like blue steel. “You promised me you wouldn’t get involved. By default, that means she has to be a one-night stand. No strings attached. I don’t care how many one-night bunnies you feel like banging; I care when there are strings connected to the same girl. If you’re fighting me on it this hard, there are a lot of damn strings hanging loose, Pierce. Tie that shit up.”
I hate that she’s right. I hate that this thing, this agreement, whatever stupid idea I had with Andi, has turned into something more. I hate that it’s already affecting my career, and I haven’t even started the season. More importantly, I hate that I’m falling in love with her.
Now’s not the time, the place, the…anything. We’re a million miles apart, and we’re both at insanely important junctures in our careers. Everything about this situation is so wrong and yet, I can’t help it. There’s more here than I’m willing to admit, and Jocelyn’s calling me out on it.
“We have an agreement,” I say to Jocelyn. I tell her the truth—well, a part of the truth. “We’re fuck buddies. Got it? Sure, there are a few strings, but I don’t love her. That’s not where this is headed—for either of us.”
“How long is it going to last?”
I fix her with a hard gaze. “Until Lawrence and Lilia’s wedding. That’s how this whole thing started, anyway. We were friends, and I asked her to help me out. My mom’s been trying to fix me up with these girls I went to high school with. They’re not for me. I don’t want them. So, it’s easier to appease my mom with a fake girlfriend.”
“Good.”
“You’re changing your tune.”
“Not at all,” she says, gathering her briefcase as I pull over to let her out at the Sun Country terminal. “If there’s an end date in sight, I’m happy. The date to sign contracts is a week after Lawrence’s wedding.”
I knew where she was heading before she went there. I try not to break the steering wheel as I throw the car into park. Now I’ve gone and promised Jocelyn something I can’t uphold on my end—if Andi wants more after the wedding, I’m going to give it to her.
A chill centers on my spine as I consider the alternative. Andi might just catch her big break with Nick Bennett before my brother’s wedding and be so focused on her career she wants nothing to do with men.
In fact, who knows if she’ll even show up at the ceremony? I relax slightly, thinking that the chances of Andi wanting anything more than a few additional orgasms are slim to none, and if that’s the case, my agreement with Jocelyn is a non-issue.
“I’ll have my assistant book your flights for a few days after the wedding.” Jocelyn shuts the door, leans down to the open window, and gives me a cold-hearted smile. “You show up at my offices unattached, and we’ve got ourselves a deal. You show up sniffing around like a lovesick puppy, and everything’s off, you’re back to Minnesota, and you don’t fucking get her anyway. Are we clear? There’s only one option, Pierce.”
I grit my teeth, which she must take for agreement because she reaches through the window and gives me a pat on the cheek with fingers that grate like nails on a chalkboard.
“I’ll see you and your friend at the wedding.”
When she leaves, I’m fuming. I slam my palm against the wheel, frustrated that there are no good options before me. I sign with the Ice Queen, and she’s going to expect me to drop things with Andi. I don’t sign with her, and the chances are high that I’ll be in Minnesota another year. I love the state, love my team, but it still puts me two thousand miles away from Andi.
Then again, I’m not even sure Andi wants me. She’s the one who proposed this whole sex-without-attachments thing. Maybe Nick Bennett is going to make her a huge-ass star and she’ll forget about me. God knows she has the talent to do whatever the hell she wants in this world.
If only I’d played by the rules, maybe I wouldn’t have fallen in love.
But I broke the rules, and now I want more.
CHAPTER 36
Andi
My phone beeps as the airplane coasts to a stop. My nerves are shot, my heart is fluttering, and my fingers are trembling. I hardly manage to open the text message without dropping my phone.
Luckily, it’s just Lisa. She’s texted me another seven eggplant emojis, which still doesn’t make sense to me. Do they really look like penises? Peni? I text her back a frowny face, and she sends back hearts and kisses which I interpret to mean Good luck in Minnesota.
She and I have learned to read each other’s minds, and at this point in our relationship, we can have entire conversations via emojis. It’s quite convenient, and a lot more fun than actually spelling out words.
My phone rings before I leave my seat.
“I love your emojis,” Lisa says. “But I figured you might need some talking down from a ledge.”
“No ledge,” I say. “I’m still on the airplane.”
“Well, you have a big giant penis waiting for you at the gate, and I know you’re nervous about it.”
“Lisa!” I glance next to me. The old man in the seat there has clearly heard the words giant and penis and is giving me a serious onceover. “Quiet. You’re embarrassing me from two thousand miles away.”
“Well, I’m here to distract you, and I’ll bet it’s working. Are you even nervous anymore?”
“Not about Ryan,” I say, thinking that the old guy next to me is looking too interested in my shirt and what’s underneath it. “Nervous about getting off of this plane, maybe.”
“What do you have to be nervous about? Ryan has called you every day for a month.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Bullshit. He’s head over heels for you.”
“Maybe he just wanted to make sure I’d still hook up with him this weekend.”
“If he hadn’t called you once, wouldn’t you still have hooked up with him? After all, y’all say you’re friends with benefits, and that specifically means he doesn’t have to call.”
I think for a moment. “I suppose you’ve got a point.”
“Don’t kid yourself. You still would’ve slept with him.”
“Maybe,” I say defensively. “You don’t know that.”
“Come on,” she says. “You might’ve tried to resist, but you wouldn’t have been able to. All that wedding crap and love in the air, Mr. Charming flying you across the country just to be with him—you would’ve caved the second he laid a hand on your panties.”
I debate arguing with her, but it’s probably true, so I let her statement go unchallenged.
“You don’t have to tell me I’m right,” she continues. “My only point is that he didn’t have to call. A man doesn’t call once or twice a day to talk to a fuck buddy. A guy calls once or twice a day to talk to the girl he can’t stop thinking about.”
“But—”
“Don’t be nervous. Just go have a good time. You’re probably wondering what the point is, or what’s going to happen next, but I instruct you to let your mind be blank. Zen.”
“What am I supposed to think about?”
“Getting off! His schlong! The fact that you’re going to a wedding with Ryan in the first place! I don’t care. Just don’t worry about something you can’t control. No use focusing on the future when you guys have an agreement that specifically says no future.”