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“Dude, chill. What is up with you tonight?” Pete asked.
“What? Nothing’s up with me.” He glanced at his sister and three teammates around the table and winced when Gonzo raised his eyebrow.
“Then how come you keep looking at your watch? You got someplace you need to be?” Smitty teased.
God, even Smitty noticed how preoccupied he was. Shit, he must look pre-occupied. “No, I’m just wondering how long I have to stick around with you bums before I can make a break for it.” Ryan picked up his beer, ignoring the look he was sure his best friend Pete was giving him.
What he was really wondering was how long he should wait to see if Peyton was actually going to show up or not. He couldn’t stop thinking about the last time he’d seen her. When they’d agreed to fake date, the idea of having sex with her hadn’t even entered his mind.
Okay, Peyton was gorgeous. Of course, it had entered his mind, but he hadn’t really considered it was an option since she hated him. But damn, the sex between them was unreal.
Unfortunately, now he didn’t know what the fuck it meant. He still thought she was unbending and snippy, but when she let go… Fuck, he’d never seen anything hotter in his life.
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Smitty nudged Ryan’s arm.
Following the direction of Smitty’s stare, he looked toward the front door. Peyton stood by the hostess table scanning the restaurant. He could tell the exact moment she’d spotted him because her entire body language changed. Even from here he could see the little hitch in her breath a second before she squared her shoulders, flashed him a wave, then turned and said something to the brunette beside her.
The little hitch was interesting. Her need to steel herself before she acknowledged him was also interesting. He just wasn’t sure if it was good or bad.
Peyton’s hips swayed as she walked across the restaurant. Her ripped jeans hung loosely on her hips, leaving a tiny swatch of skin visible between the waistband and her cropped t-shirt. That teasing glimpse of skin was sexier than anything revealing would have been. Especially now that he’d seen her naked, and he knew exactly what lay beneath her clothes.
“I see how it is,” Smitty mumbled.
“What?” Ryan tore his eyes from Peyton and looked at his friend.
“Is this thing real now?”
“Umm…” Ryan licked his lips. How the fuck was he supposed to answer that? Thankfully, Peyton made it to their table, saving him from having to give any kind of response.
“Glad you could make it.” Ryan smiled at Peyton as he shoved Smitty further into the booth to make room for Peyton and her friend to slide into the end.
Ryan leaned around Peyton. “Hi, I’m Ryan.” He stuck out his palm to shake the other woman’s hand.
“Of course you are,” the woman replied with a smirk. Peyton elbowed her friend in the side and the woman coughed out a laugh before turning back to Ryan. “I’m Rayne.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ryan gestured to his buddies around the table. “This is Smitty, Gonzo, my sister Kendall, and Pete.”
“Pleasure.” Rayne studied him for several moments, then smiled like she was pleased with what she’d seen, and for whatever reason he relaxed. He shouldn’t care that he’d somehow passed some mysterious first impression test from Peyton’s best friend but he did.
Peyton smacked her hands together. “We need drinks.” She looked around the table. Her gaze lingered on his glass of beer.
Ryan bit back a grin. She was nervous, trying to hide it for sure, but definitely nervous. She kept flashing him little sideways glances as she sat beside him. Rayne slid around on the seat to try to get the server’s attention. The movement pushed Peyton closer to him on the bench. When her thigh pressed against his, she jumped, then gave a little giggle as she shifted in her seat. With him on one side and Rayne pushing against the other, she wasn’t able to move at all. Sure, he could have shifted over to give her space, but he didn’t want to.
Peyton turned her head to look at him. Her gaze latched onto his mouth, and she licked her lips. Jesus. He bit back a groan. It took everything in him not to take her lip between his teeth and pull her toward him.
Breaking eye contact, she tried to shift again on the seat. He clamped his hand on her thigh to hold her in place. “Stay,” he ordered.
He’d expected her to argue purely because of the tone he’d used. Instead, her eyes darkened slightly, and she nodded in agreement.
Damn. He could not get a handle on who Peyton really was. The feisty woman who’d yelled at him the first time they met, the submissive woman in the bedroom or the barracuda that Andy kept trying to intimate that she was. She was like a puzzle whose pieces didn’t quite fit properly, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to rip it up or brute force it together. Somehow this woman had gotten in his head, invading his thoughts and he never let that happen.
“So, how was your game?” Peyton angled herself to look at him. “Did you win?”
“Yeah, it was close, but we pulled it out.” Ryan rolled his shoulders. Even though he hadn’t played tonight his shoulders were tense. Sitting, watching, wishing he was in the game was always hard even when they pulled out the win.
“Who pitched tonight?” Peyton asked.
He rolled his shoulders again. “Johnny.”
