Page 13 of Being Neighborly


Font Size:  

* * *

Ryan slid the key into the lock on his front door then stepped to the side to let Jess enter first. She walked toward the kitchen, clutching her take-out bag in her hands. He flipped the switch, which flooded the space with light and shut the door.

“Thanks again for dinner.” Jess bit the corner of her lip.

Her constant chatter had died off on the ride home and the weird, almost nervous feeling he recognized from their first night together had settled over her. The change confused him because they’d been having a good time. One trip to the bathroom had somehow derailed that.

He strolled over to his fridge and took out two beers. After popping the top on both, he slid one across the granite counter.

“What’s wrong, Peaches? You think I’m expecting you to put out now?” He gave her a wink before tilting the bottle to take a drink.

That full, carefree smile of hers spread across her face. She sat her food down and picked up the beer. “Nope. Since I offered, again, to pay for my own dinner, your refusal to accept does not get you laid.” With beer in hand, she headed toward his couch.

Another long drink from his bottle bought him time to study her, which mainly consisted of watching the sway of her ass as she walked.

“We could always just cuddle.” The flippant remark surprised even Ryan, and he’d spoken the words.

A combination of a choke and cough overtook her and she covered her mouth to prevent spewing liquid across his furniture. He yanked a few paper towels from the roll and jogged over to her, chuckling along the way.

“Thanks,” she muttered, wiping her hand and mouth. “Cuddling..

.first a da...” She cut herself off then quickly unfolded her legs and stood.

The nervous energy made sense as the lightbulb went off. Ryan crossed the room in three quick strides. “Date.”

Rapid shakes of her head, but she kept her gaze down, and focused on her task of washing her hands. “Just acquaintances sharing a meal.” She shut off the water, dried her hands, then reached for her bag.

Ryan grabbed the other side of it. “Friends. With some excellent benefits, if I do say so myself.” He accompanied that last part with a playful wink.

With a huff, she raised her head to look at him. “Fine, friends. And next time I pay so we’re even.” She gave a tug on the bag, but he kept his grip.

He pinned her with a hard stare. “What if I don’t want even?”

She shifted her stance, cocked out one of her hips and crossed her arms under her chest. Her breasts were pushed up from the action, which exposed more of the smooth, rounded tops. Her lips downturned and a deep V formed between her brows. “What if I do?”

Ryan fought to keep his expression neutral. His Georgia Peach was damned adorable when she was flustered bordering on annoyed.

The ding of his doorbell interrupted his reply. His brows drew together and he glanced at the clock on the microwave. Two strides to the door, and he was ready to cuss out whichever of his buddies had decided to stop by at this moment.

“Baby!” The shrillness of her voice shocked him. When she launched herself into his arms and planted a surprise kiss on him, Ryan’s ability to react momentarily abandoned him.

The thrusting of her tongue into his mouth snapped him into action. He disentangled the overeager woman’s arms from around his neck and pushed her away.

With the back of his hand, he swiped his mouth and scowled at the blonde. “What the hell, Ashley? What the fuck are you doing here?”

She pointed a perfectly manicured hot pink nail at his chest. “Aww, babe, you can’t still be mad at me. We had a tiff. I gave you time to cool off.”

The crinkling of a bag got his attention. Shit!

“Who’s that?” The disdain in Ashley’s tone grated on him.

“Pea—”

Jess held her hand up and shook her head. “I... I should go.” She dropped her head and took the path behind Ashley, who drew up and invaded more of Ryan’s space.

When he reached out to grab her arm, Jess darted to the side and stayed out of reach.

“Ryan, answer me. Who the fuck is that?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com