by Lily Kate
Whenever she kisses me for the first time—and she will kiss me eventually—I want her to remember every damn second of it, and I want her to come back for more.
“Oh, yes I do.” She reaches out a hand, rests it on my chest. “The bar where we’re going has a two-drink minimum. I order two diet Cokes instead of booze because it’s cheaper, so I’ll just drink this wine now, and we’ll be good to go. Plus, I’ve got a designated driver.”
She dances her fingers up my chest, and I’m turned on by her touch.
“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice husky. If we don’t get out of here soon, I’ll be throwing her onto the bed and pulling off that stupid collared shirt. I grab her hands. “Move it, or we’re never leaving.”
CHAPTER 12
Andi
“This is the place?” Ryan somehow makes his way around his brother’s BMW before I can open the door. He guides me out slowly, and I apologize for the fiftieth time that his car is too busy getting fixed to be driven.
“Relax,” he says. “It’s nothing.”
“I shouldn’t have brought you here.” I lean against the car and stare at the somewhat dilapidated building ahead of us. “This is no place for Ryan Pierce. If you leave now, I can Uber back. Plus, I’ll still deliver your pizzas.”
“I’d hope so. Rumor on the street is that I tip pretty well for good service.” Ryan moves his hand so that his fingers are low on my back, teasing me with a hint of skin-on-skin contact between my cropped tank and my jeans. “Let’s grab seats, show starts in three minutes.”
I traded in my Peretti’s collared shirt for a black stretchy tank top and a fake-leather jacket slung across my shoulders, retrieved from the stash I keep in my car. I can’t help the slight cheesy-pizza scent radiating from my work jeans, but I look decent enough to get inside the Laugh House. With a bit of added mascara and a swipe of lip gloss, hell, this is almost a date.
The Laugh House is a middle-of-the-road place. The only time a famous face might be seen around here is if they’re testing out new material before hitting the big stages. Even so, it is a way bigger deal than the clubs Lisa and I normally play.
How can I tell it’s a big deal? Because there are people here. Real, live people mingling about the bar, waiting in line to get into the club. I often come here to watch classmates who have gotten their medium break into the industry, so I know Bruce, the bouncer. He works here mostly to get some free stage time, moonlighting as a comedian when his ex-wife has the kids for the weekend.
“Hey, Andi.” Bruce pulls me in, kisses both of my cheeks, and then rakes his gaze over Ryan. “Sweet gig for Lisa, huh? What a turnout. I’m happy for her.”
“I can’t wait to see her up there,” I gush. “She’s going to have a cow when she sees a crowd this size.”
Ryan hasn’t once moved his hand from my lower back, a choice I decide to appreciate. Bruce, however, is protective of his fellow comics and growls at Ryan for ID.
“Come on, Bruce,” I say. “He’s with me. Lighten up.”
“It’s fine.” Ryan hands over his ID with a smile. “I don’t mind.”
I glance with suspicion at Ryan—he looks positively giddy. That’s when I realize he probably never gets asked for his ID because people recognize him. This is exciting for him, I think, in a strange way.
Bruce grunts a moody move along.
“Nice guy,” Ryan murmurs, squeezing me tight as we slip through the doors. “A friend of yours?”
“Yeah, he’s a softy inside. He just watches out for the regulars.” I smile. “So, can I buy you a soda? I don’t have enough cash on me for anything more.”
Ryan opens his mouth to respond, but I interrupt him first.
“Wait!” I yank out the cash from the pizza delivery. “I have your tip. Would you like a glass of wine? Let’s go all out tonight.”
“I’ll take a beer. Driving,” he says as an explanation. “And I have to head back to Minnesota next week for some preseason training.”
“Minnesota?”
He shrugs. “Until the deal’s done out here, I’m still with the Stars. My duties are still to my team there.”
Ryan seems bothered by something, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. Before I can beat him to it, he orders a beer for him and a glass of wine for me and pays in cash. Then he selects a table near the front and pulls a chair out, gesturing for me to slip into it.
His whole gentleman act is dangerous.
I could get used to this, and that’s the last thought I need to be having right after agreeing to be his friend-date to his brother’s wedding. I mean, he basically told me that the only reason he trusts himself to behave is because he doesn’t want to have sex with me.
Which is unfortunate, because I’m thinking that adding a one-night stand into the mix of this whole fake-girlfriend thing might’ve sweetened the pot. We’ll see. Maybe he’s open to negotiation.
“Why do I feel like you’ve never been with a man who deserves you?” Ryan leans over, his breath tickling my ear. “You act as if I shouldn’t be doing this—opening doors, buying you drinks, driving you around town.”
“I just…” I pause, flustered. “I’m not used to it.”
“Then you’ve been doing it all wrong.”
I look down at my drink. It’s a reflex, not because I want pity. I just don’t have anything else to say. That’s why I’m still single, I suppose—I’ve never met a man who makes me feel good enough—not until Ryan.
“Hey.” He reaches out, tilts my chin up. “You just didn’t know what you were missing. Now you know. Andi, you deserve to have someone open your door and buy you a drink. Don’t settle for the assholes that can’t do something as simple as that.”
I swallow, nodding along. Usually, I’m a dry-eyed, stoic, laughin-the-face-of-sadness type girl, but something about Ryan makes my soul pour out words, share my stories with him. Something about him makes me feel safe.
“That’s not everything.” Ryan slips his arm around my shoulder, his voice dropping low. “You deserve a man who can kiss you until you forget your name, a man who can take you to bed, satisfy your every need, and then bring you coffee the next morning. You deserve all of that, and so much more.”
“Thanks, Ryan, but you don’t have to say all this—”
“Nothing I can say will change your mind,” he offers. “Except for you. I’m just telling you the truth.”
My eyes are really smarting now, and I’m thinking it was pretty stupid to agree to be this man’s friend. If I hadn’t just agreed to friendship, I might stick my tongue down his throat right now, and I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t remember my name when he kissed me back. Sometimes I hate being sensible.
“You’re sweet,” I start, but he shakes his head for me to quiet.
“I can see the doubt in your eyes, and I don’t like it. You’ve got a lot to offer this world, Andi, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an asshat.” He pauses for a sip of beer, and then changes subjects slightly. “I’m not saying that I’m the man for you, I’m just trying to tell you that there’s someone out there who’ll treat you well.”
I clear my throat, still in slight disbelief that he cares enough to say anything at all. He doesn’t have to, that’s for sure; with the looks he’s getting from other women in here, he could have any one of them in bed by midnight—myself included, I’m beginning to realize.
Those dark, soulful eyes of his alternate between alert and sensual, charming and thoughtful. The shaggy mess of hair on his head accents his tanned skin and thick, muscled arms hidden underneath a sweater that’s as soft as a minx.
Unfortunately, the only words of his that I can focus on are I’m not the man for you—of course.
“Show’s starting.” Ryan leans back, his eyes focused on the stage. “Do you see your friend yet?”
I shake my head. Lisa’s nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, the waiter stops by just then and deposits another glass of red wine. I take a sip. As I sit back, lett
ing the wine sink in and the hot lights warm my skin, I take some time to look around the room.
The space itself isn’t big, but it is packed tonight. The comic who canceled last minute has a decent following, and the other comics on the roster were C-listers. We’re not talking SNL cast members here; we’re talking actors who’ve had one-liners in movies, recognizable faces who get paid to play gigs, and not the other way around. It is the next step up for Lisa, and I couldn’t be more proud.
“I thought you’d never make it!” a voice hisses in my ear. “I was about to order a pizza to the stage just so you’d get here in time. Do you see the people sitting there? Real live people! That are here to listen to me!” Lisa squeaks as she talks, her breath getting faster and faster as she scans the room.
I grin, kissing her cheek. “You’ll do great. Oh, and Lisa, this is Ryan.”
Lisa straightens up then, stiff as a telephone pole, and she stares at Ryan…just stares, and stares, and stares. Her mouth opens a little bit, and I raise a hand and manually close her jaw.
“Hi.” Ryan extends a hand. “Andi speaks very, very highly of you. Can’t wait to see the show.”
Lisa shakes his hand up and down with less emotion than most robots. When she speaks, she’s looking at Ryan, but I think she’s talking to me. “You brought him?”
“Yes, as I said, this is my friend Ryan,” I repeat.
“You’re friends?” She turns to face me. “I’m your friend. He’s the guy you want to bang.”
Ryan’s eyebrows rise slightly, but he doesn’t look all that dismayed by Lisa’s huge mouth.
“I didn’t say that,” I say. “She’s drunk on stage fright.”
“No,” Lisa says, her jaw still open. “You said it yourself. You want to—”
“I didn’t say that,” I interrupt, my face heating. “Lisa, will you relax? Ryan’s here as a favor because we were drinking wine, and he was sober enough to drive.”
“You drank wine. With Ryan. Pierce…” She trails off. “You drank Ryan Pierce’s wine.”
I can’t tell if she’s more stunned to be meeting the star in person, or if she’s shocked I haven’t mentioned anything to her about it—which isn’t my fault, since it just happened.
I stand up, sensing a flood of questions that may or may not be appropriate for Ryan’s ears. Lisa tends to lose her filter when she’s surprised, drunk, tired, annoyed, angry—she basically doesn’t have a filter, and I don’t want to expose Ryan to her brutal honesty just yet.
“I’ll be right back. I have to…uh, do something.” I flash a brief smile at Ryan before pulling my best friend just outside the doors to the main stage and into a bathroom. “Lisa, get a grip!”
“That’s Ryan Pierce,” she shoots back.
She’s got me there, so I remain quiet.
“How am I just finding out about you drinking wine all up in his house? You’ve got me all flustered right before my show now,” she says, pouting. “You’re hazardous to my career.”
“Why are you flustered?”
“Because Ryan Pierce is in the audience! With my best friend!”
“I’m just getting you ready.” I pat her on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
“Ready for what?”
“The spotlight.” I pause, softening my tone as I pull her in for a quick hug. “Before you get your undies in a bunch, let me explain that I didn’t expect him to be here any more than you did. He ordered a pizza, we talked, drank one glass of wine, and then—”
“You banged your customer?! What will your dad say about that?”
“What? No!” Someone from inside the bathroom stall sucks in a breath, and I lower my voice. “I was going to say it led us here, to your show. It happened in like five minutes. And do not say anything to my dad about banging customers. It’s not true. Ryan does not want to have sex with me.”
“Bullshit.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He looks at you like stuffing on Thanksgiving. He wants to be inside you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You know what I mean,” she says. “He’s got sex eyes for you, and if you send out the right vibes, you’ll be getting lucky in no time.”
“That’s not true. Plus, he’s still a customer.”
“Damn, what a night. Is your dad hiring? I wanna find myself a Ryan Pierce.”
“You’re missing the point.” I smile though, happy to see her shoulders relaxing, a glimmer of a grin on her lips. “Stop focusing on me. Tonight is about you. This is a huge step for your career.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Seriously! They called you tonight when Luke Donahue canceled. Luke Donahue! He just had a line on Mod Family, and he played a bit role in Take Out. People know Luke’s name. You’re going places, Lisa. It’s finally happening! All these years of hard work are paying off.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not ready for it. I thought I was, but all those people—I can’t do it! I’m going to trip and fall, or piss my pants—it’s inevitable.”
“There are going to be more and more people watching you perform. That’s just the way it’s supposed to go. Be confident. You’re sassy. You’re bulletproof. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re nice, somewhere deep down past all your sarcasm.”
She laughs. “You’d have to dig deep to find the niceness.”
“But I know it’s there, and Ryan is just one of many famous people—athletes, movie stars, politicians, you name it—they will all be watching you perform in coming years. So get up there and kill it tonight!”
“I’m terrified.”
“Pretend it’s just me, Phil, and Bruce,” I say. “We’ll always be your number one fans. Just don’t forget us when you’re famous.”
She pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I don’t miss the way her hands tremble as they clench my back, or the way her voice cracks when she speaks. “What would I do without you?”
“Well, you wouldn’t have met Ryan Pierce, that’s for sure.” I grin, stepping back. “You’re welcome for that.”
“Lisa, you’re up next. Six minutes to go.” A male head pops into the bathroom. “Finish your business and get out here.”
“Bruce, stop sticking your head in the ladies’ room,” Lisa says.
The woman in the stall gulps another breath.
“And I don’t know who you think you’re fooling in there, Christine,” Lisa calls to the stall. “I can see your shoes and I know you’re trying to eavesdrop. Get out here, I need a vodka soda before I go on stage, please.”
Our friend, the bartender at the Laugh House, coughs from the toilet. “Coming right up.”
We file out of the bathroom, Lisa giving me a nervous glance before heading off into the wings, waiting for her name to be called.
“Everything okay?” Ryan asks.
There’s a fresh glass of wine on the table, and I help myself to it. “Fine and dandy. She’s going to rock it.”
“I know she will.”
“But if she bombs, you’re still going to whistle like she won the World Series, you hear me?”
“Do you know what sport the World Series is for?” Ryan asks, eyebrow raised.
“Does it matter?”
He throws back his head and laughs, the sound covered by applause for the comedian on stage completing his set. Ryan claps along, both of us hooting and hollering as the MC takes the mic and introduces Lisa. That’s when I stand, wave my hands, and do a sort of butt shake dance. Yes, I’m weird. When I finally sit back down, I look over at Ryan to see if he’s embarrassed yet.
Instead of focusing on the bright lights, the onstage action, or the waitress asking if he’d like a refill, Ryan’s eyes are fixed on me, and they’re shining with something that looks like desire.
I guess he didn’t mind my dance moves.
Positively boiling inside with happiness, I sit down, grab Ryan’s hand, and together, we watch the show.
C
HAPTER 13
Ryan
I’m an idiot.
Friends? I told her I wanted to be friends?
I’ve never seen anyone more alive. Her smile, her laugh, the way she moves her hips when she’s whistling for her friend on stage—it’s all driving me insane.
I need her, even if it’s only for a night.
Look, I get it—I’m selfish. I live in Minnesota and she lives in Los Angeles, and long-distance relationships never work, especially in careers like ours. Comedians travel all the time, and so do athletes.
I should leave her alone. I should tell her I’ll go to the wedding with my mom’s annoying bimbo-bunny. I should quit with the pizza ordering from her dad’s place before I get so out of shape I’m kicked off the Stars.
But I can’t do it. I already said it—I’m selfish, and I want her.
Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow—I’m patient, you see—but sometime, I need it to happen.
As much as I want her, I think she wants me too. If I can show Andi what sex is supposed to be like, maybe she’ll forget about those other assholes who’ve come before me.
One hot night together would be a win for both of us, right?
CHAPTER 14
Andi
“You did ah-mazing.” I grab Lisa at our designated meeting spot outside the club, each of us locking hands around the other’s forearms, doing a little girlish dance in the style of Ring Around the Rosie. “You’re a star, Lisa!”
“That scared the shit out of me.” Lisa’s eyes shine like two beams of light, and I can feel the nerves, the exhilaration, the adrenaline sizzling in the air. “I hated it, but I loved it. Damn, I don’t know what’s happening. I am going crazy! This is amazing!”
A shadow moves at my elbow. “You’ve reminded me how much I like going to comedy shows.” Ryan slides one arm over my shoulder, the casualness of his gesture feeling natural. It’s nice; I could get used to it.
Before my traitor of a brain wanders to dangerous territories—like wondering if Ryan Pierce might actually enjoy the company of the world’s worst delivery girl—I pat Lisa on the shoulder again. “Congratulations. That was an awesome show. You nailed it, really.”
