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If this plan worked, Sam was the one who would need saving.
Chapter Thirteen
Riley was up to something.
Sam just wasn’t exactly sure what.
But for the first time in months—years?—Sam didn’t care that he didn’t know what the hell was going through her gorgeous head.
As long as she kept smiling at him like that—like she enjoyed him—he was content to play along in complete ignorance.
Not to mention, the “just one of the guys” thing she had going on meant he wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder for Liam to come charging at him for ogling his little sister.
Too bad Riley’s buddy-buddy routine wasn’t quite as effective at silencing his mother’s latest accusation. You think a pseudo celebrity like Riley McKenna wants you for anything more than her next story? Even if she didn’t, you’d probably screw that up too.
He’d never admit it, but he was grateful for his mom’s timing. Without knowing it, she’d kept him from making a mistake that both he and Riley would have regretted.
He glanced over at the woman who’d spent the past two hours introducing him to her colleagues as “practically a brother.”
There was absolutely no chance he was seeing her lingerie tonight.
Perfect. That was exactly what he wanted.
Bull. Fucking. Shit.
Okay, so he definitely wanted to see what she was wearing under her hot-pink baseball shirt.
But so did every other single guy in the bar.
Sam should have been prepared for this. It was Riley. But when she’d pitched this softball “favor,” he’d been so busy trying to figure out her angle that he’d missed a rather key detail of the whole thing.
Namely, the very male opposing team.
He’d only read Oxford a handful of times, and Sam was less than pleased to see that at least half the staff looked like they could be on the cover of the magazine as well as its bylines.
And at least half of the model-wannabes seemed to be very single, and very aware of Riley’s penchant for formfitting clothes.
Some nice-enough guy named Jason casually threw an arm around the back of Riley’s chair as she chatted with Julie. Jason caught Sam’s glare and hesitated only briefly before retracting the arm.
If there was an upside to being introduced as “practically a brother,” it was that his glares were interpreted as fraternal protectiveness.
Which was exactly what they were supposed to be.
Then Riley tilted her head back and laughed at something Julie said, a spontaneous, unscripted gesture that had his stomach tightening with want. And not just want to brush his lips down the exposed column of her neck. It was a deeper want—to spend time with her, just to see her smile.
Yup, his feelings toward Riley were anything but brotherly, and he was getting damn tired of trying to convince himself of anything else.
The trouble was, she seemed to be doing a damn good job of convincing herself and everyone else that there was no sexual pull between them.
But the hug had said it all. She’d slipped up, as had he. He’d known better than to put his hands on her, but he’d had to put them to the test.
They’d both failed.
But other than that, she’d been doing everything he’d prayed that she’d do. There’d been plenty of shared smiles, but no secret shared smiles. Just friendly, isn’t-this-fun? wholesome grins.
She certainly hadn’t gone out of her way to touch him the way she had with some of the Oxford guys. And unlike with that douche bag Brent, he didn’t think tonight was about making him jealous. She never once glanced at him to see how he’d react. It was like she didn’t even notice him unless he spoke directly to her or planted himself in her line of sight.
It was his own fault.
