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She tucked her messy hair behind her ear, her heart skipping a beat. “I get what you mean. I’m myself, too, with you.”
“The question is,” he curled his hand behind the nape of her neck. “What the hell does it all mean?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
“Yeah. Me, either.”
They remained silent, both studying each other.
She couldn’t help but think that he was measuring her, trying to figure out her weaknesses, and part of her wanted to hide them from him—while the other half wanted him to see them all.
It was frightening…and confusing.
“What’s your favorite meal?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Uh…” She laughed a little uneasily. “Homemade chicken parm, I guess. It has to be pounded really thin, and then fried, and then baked with sauce and mozzarella cheese. I make it, and to be honest, I’ve never had any at a restaurant that is better than mine. It’s a science to get the sauce to cheese ratio right, and you need to match it to the thickness of the chicken. It’s gotta be just right.”
He nodded, looking far too serious for such an unimportant question. “That sounds delicious.”
“It is.” She tightened her grip on his shoulders—which she’d forgotten she was holding on to until now. “If you win against the Giants, I can make it for you.”
He turned his head to the side. “And if I lose?”
“What’s your favorite meal?”
“Grilled steak, marinated onions, and mashed potatoes,” he answered immediately.
“Then you have to make me that,” she said, biting her lip as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Was it too much? Too forward of her to assume he might want to see her again after tonight was over and she’d returned the favor due him? Yep. It was definitely too much. Fool. “Never—”
He laughed and rubbed his jaw. “Deal.”
“If you’re sure,” she said quickly.
“I’m sure.” He stepped back, nostrils flaring, and let go of her. “Nothing wrong with a healthy little bet between friends, right?”
“Is that what we are?” she asked breathlessly. “Friends?”
He nodded once. “I’d like to be, yes. I can’t ask for more than that, though, because—”
“You don’t want a relationship,” she finished for him, smiling when he flushed. “You don’t have to keep telling me. I swear not to fall in love with you, and I swear not to read too much into us hanging out every once in a while.”
“Good. And I swear the same.” He held a hand up solemnly. “Here and now, I also swear not to fall for you, or to read into things intentions that aren’t there.”
She chuckled. “Then it’s settled. We have a deal.”
Holding a hand out, he asked, “Should we shake on it?”
They were shaking on their agreement not to fall for one another more so than they were their little dinner arrangement. She had basically just agreed to a friends-with-benefits situation, something she’d never embarked upon before, but that was just fine with her. If she got to spend more time with Wyatt Hamilton, she’d take it, no matter what he wanted to call it. “Sure.”
Sliding her hand into his, she shook it firmly and started to let go. He tightened his grip and pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she lost track of time and any silent agreements. When he pulled back, she clung to him breathlessly, blinking up at his blurry face.
“Sorry. I prefer kissing on agreements,” he said, his tone low and rumbly.
It was sexy as hell.
“Noted,” she said breathlessly.
He swung her back to her feet, letting go. “Speaking of kissing, you can still date around and live your life. Because we’re just…friends. Like I said, I don’t like the idea of you with another guy, but I also have no right to ask you not to see other men when I’m not giving you more than this,” he said gently, tucking her hair behind her ear, his jaw tighter than usual. “Don’t let me stop you, is all I’m saying.”
