Delivery Girl (Minnesota Ice #1)

by Lily Kate

  A smile turns her lips up. Then she makes eye contact with me, the blue-green color like Mediterranean water. I can’t stop staring at them even when she begins to speak. “I’m happy to be here. Sorry I couldn’t be at your game a few weeks ago, I had to work.”

  I flick over my cards, wondering for the millionth time if she’s just saying that. She’d called to apologize about missing the scrimmage, and I don’t care about that. I’m just worried that she feels trapped into playing my girlfriend to impress my mother. It would work, too; my mother would adore this girl. Smart, cute, comes from a big family, helps her dad out—she’s an angel.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?” I ask when she folds. I fold too, even though I’m close to a flush. “In the kitchen.”

  “Sure,” she says, a hint of confusion at the edge of her voice.

  Lilia flashes me a smirk as we leave the room, and I’m left wondering what exactly was said between the two women. If Lilia embarrassed me or made Andi uncomfortable, I’m not going to be happy.

  “Lilia’s great,” Andi says as soon as we reach the kitchen. “Really fun to finally meet her, er…face to face.”

  Now I understand: Andi caught my brother boning his soon-to-be wife and, even though we’re all happy they love each other, nobody wants to see that. No wonder she’s a little uncomfortable tonight.

  “About that,” I say. “They’re not shy, so don’t worry about it. Unfortunately, I’ve also seen more than I’d like to.”

  “Oh, no, it’s not that.” She runs a hand almost nervously over her collarbone. Then all at once she looks up, those brilliant eyes meeting mine. “Why didn’t you just call and ask me to come hang out?”

  I see the stacks of pizza in the background and feel my stomach sinking. “Christ, I’m sorry, Andi. I didn’t even think about the work going into these things, I just thought…well, I wasn’t thinking. I wanted to see you, and I was trying to be funny. I suck at it, and I’m sorry.”

  “No, it is cute.” She steps closer to me. “But you don’t have to be cute. I like hanging out with you, and we agreed to do this getting to know each other thing. Otherwise, it won’t be realistic for us to go to a wedding together. I mean, we can’t show up to your parents house and have you wondering if I like coffee or not—everyone would see right through the ruse. If we’re pretend dating, we have to know a few things about each other.”

  “I know you like coffee,” I say with a wink. “What else do you like?”

  She gives a soft laugh. “All I’m saying is that I expected we’d hang out when I agreed to do this thing. You can save your money—you don’t have to order pizzas or tip me or any of that. We’re friends.”

  “Friends,” I echo. “Right.”

  We watch each other in silence for a long moment. Mostly, I use this time to give myself a pep talk. Don’t be a pansy, I tell myself. Say how you feel, dickhead.

  “Andi—” I say, finally gathering up the courage.

  Right then, Lilia walks into the room.

  I love Lilia like a sister, but I want to punt her out of the kitchen in that moment. My hands flex into fists as she bites into a slice of pizza and turns to face us. “What’s up, guys?”

  I roll my eyes as she gives me a knowing expression, and I’m wondering if Andi said something to her about us, about this friend thing we’re trying out. Is Lilia trying to prevent us from getting involved? She has to know I left the room—alone—to get Andi by herself, so why is she being the biggest cockblock in the room?

  I need to finally put my lips on Andi’s and kiss her until she forgets all about this stupid friendship idea. I need to show her that I’ve changed my mind, that I want something different.

  That I’m changing the damn rules.

  That I want her in my bed.

  Now.

  CHAPTER 21

  Andi

  “I fold.” I shake my head. “Crap cards, Nicky. Thanks for nothing.”

  “About time.” Ryan winks at me, and I’m reminded of the moment we shared in the kitchen an hour earlier. “You’ve been taking our money all night.”

  I laugh, playing along, but I’m still wondering what he wanted to say while we were alone, if he had wanted, possibly, to tell me what I so desperately wanted to hear. But Lilia, bless her heart, had interrupted, and Ryan and I haven’t been able to sneak away since.

  I might be the pizza delivery girl, but I also know how to hold my own in a card game, and I took no mercy on these men. I have the most chips out of anyone at the table, and I’m not planning on letting up any time soon.

  Lilia sits cuddled next to Lawrence while the agents and hockey players are in various displays of lounging, beers in hand.

  “So, I hear we have a wedding coming up,” I say to Lilia and Lawrence. “How long have you two been together?”

  “Almost three years,” Lilia. “Can you believe it? We met while living in two different states. We lived apart for a while while we both got our careers established, but we always got back together.”

  “Until I finally put a ring on it and told her I wouldn’t tolerate any more nights apart.” Lawrence winks. Despite Ryan’s assessment of his brother as a dick, any time Lilia is in the room, Lawrence is a big, squishy teddy bear. He looks at me. “I hear you might be coming to the wedding.”

  Lilia looks up, surprised. Apparently she hasn’t heard the news yet.

  I glance at Ryan, not sure whether he’s told anyone else our plan, or if he’s keeping it a complete secret. “Possibly.”

  Lilia gives Ryan a curious stare. “Really.”

  “Really.” Ryan meets her gaze. Then he glances back to the cards. “My deal?”

  “We’d love to have you,” Lawrence says. “Ever been to Minnesota before?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never had a reason to go.”

  “Well, it’s a treat,” Lawrence says, and I can’t tell if it’s sarcasm. “You’ll need a week to come down from culture shock when you return to LA—our parents own a farm.”

  “That sounds like an experience,” I agree.

  “Enough with the wedding talk,” Ryan says. “Pick up your cards and focus.”

  I look at my hand, wondering if Ryan’s upset. He’s acting normally otherwise, smiling and laughing and touching my leg now and again, so it’s hard to say. I push the thought away, focusing on the game, which ends up paying off big time.

  A few rounds later, I’ve stolen even more of the boys’ money. Lilia isn’t playing anymore—she’s lying with her head in Lawrence’s lap, eyes closed, looking all too comfortable.

  I’m not even trying to win anymore, but competitiveness is ingrained in me. Working at Peretti’s Pizza has given me a good base for card games. My dad taught me poker at a young age. When deliveries were slow, we’d need something to pass the time, and my dad was ruthless.

  I’ve gone home many a night with no tips, but eventually I learned, and now my dad never asks to play anymore. He mostly likes to win.

  Unlike my dad, the hockey guys aren’t poor sports. They’re good sports, which makes the game all the more fun.

  “Babe, we should get you in bed. You have a meeting in the morning.” Lawrence leans over and plants a kiss on Lilia’s cheek. “And if we don’t leave right now, I won’t have enough money to pay our mortgage next month, since Andi here is sweeping the table.”

  I laugh then push a stack of chips in Lawrence’s direction. “Here, I wouldn’t want you to be homeless.”

  “Oh, he’s being a baby.” Lilia grins, pushing the chips back. “But I am ready for bed. Goodnight y’all. Behave.”

  I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye—it’s Lilia, Lawrence, and Ryan all exchanging some look I can’t quite interpret.

  “I’ll lock up,” Ryan says. “Good night.”

  Mo stands up, too, waving to the table. “Pleasure playing with you all—except for you, Andi. It was a disaster playing with you. I should be heading out before I lose my cab fare.”

/>   I push chips toward him, but he extends a hand and shakes mine.

  “You won, fair and square,” he says. “But you’re not invited back, sorry.”

  “Andi’s got until one thirty this morning,” Lilia says as she leaves, the rest of the group trailing after her and Lawrence. “Best get her back on time, Ryan, so her dad doesn’t ban us from Peretti’s Pizza. Those are damn good pizzas.”

  With that, she’s gone.

  Ryan and I look at each other over the stack of chips and cards.

  “So, we’ve got an hour?” Ryan eventually says, his eyes twinkling in the now empty room.

  I blink. “Guess so.”

  “What on earth could we do with an hour?”

  I glance around the cozy room, taking in the comfortable ambiance, the sparkle in Ryan’s eyes. “How about you tell me what you were going to say in the kitchen before Lilia interrupted.”

  Footsteps sound as Lilia and Lawrence make their way to the second floor. He waits until they pass, and then gives me a piercing gaze that does things to my heart. “You don’t have to go through with this wedding thing,” he says. “I’ve had some time to think about it, and…it’s stupid. It’s too much to ask of you.”

  “Oh,” I say, not having expected that. I should have expected he’d realize this was all a horrible idea—bringing me, delivery girl extraordinaire—to a Pierce wedding. “Well, I don’t have to come, it’s no big—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” His face scrunches up as if all the words have come out wrong. “What I meant is that I don’t want you to feel pressured into going with me. I’d feel pretty shitty if that were the case.”

  “It’s a little favor. I feel shitty for bumping your car.”

  “It’s just a few bucks,” he says. “That was nothing. I’m taking you to a whole new state.”

  A few bucks means two very different things to Ryan and myself. A few bucks to fix Ryan’s car was nothing to him, but if he’d made me pay, I’d have been working overtime for a month to pay it off.

  “Do you want to come to the wedding with me, Andi?” he asks then. “Forget favors, forget any of it. I like you. I think it’d be fun to go together, and I’ll pay for everything. If you want to come as my date, I’d love to have you.”

  “As your date?”

  “Andi.” This time, his voice comes out low, husky.

  I lean toward him, listening, waiting with bated breath for whatever will follow, and as it turns out, it isn’t words. His lips ease toward mine, slowly, gently, until they touch.

  Once our lips meet, gentle flies out the window, and it’s a tangle of heat, of pent-up desire and passion radiating through my veins.

  “I don’t want to be your friend, Andi.”

  I can’t think, can’t speak. All I know is that I want him just as much as he wants me. My fingers wind through his hair and pull tight. I’m loving the feel of his soft locks beneath my fingers.

  He groans at the motion then pulls me onto him. It’s commanding and fast, and when he positions me on his lap, I can feel him beneath me. He is packing quite the hockey stick. I might be the delivery girl, but he’s the one with the package.

  His fingernails dig into my hips, and I can’t think anymore. I just feel. He grinds against me and as we kiss, grope, my thoughts going black, my desire growing, I let myself be taken completely away—until suddenly, I pull back. I can’t do this.

  I’m about to orgasm from dry humping. This hasn’t happened since high school, and I gasp, moving to a half-standing position over him. I can’t do this. It’s embarrassing. I mean, it’s fun, but—no, not the first time, not with Ryan Pierce.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice is a gravelly road leading me all sorts of places I want to go. “Come to bed with me.”

  “I have to get going home,” I say, cringing as I say it. “Curfew.”

  The sound he makes is almost animalistic, pained at the idea of stopping.

  “I know,” I say, and then because it’s the only thing I can logically think to do, I sit back down, straddle his lap, and begin the rocking motion again. Screw curfew. I’m twenty-three-years old—if I want to wiggle around on Ryan Pierce, I’m going to do it. “Don’t stop.”

  “Andi, no, I’ve got to get you…”

  I imagine he wanted to say the word home, but it doesn’t make it out because I run a hand on the front of his pants, and he loses all track of what he’s saying.

  His tongue returns to my mouth with a vengeance, licking, sucking, biting—he’s a god with that thing. I swear, that man is about to finish me off while we’re both still clothed, thanks to some good old-fashioned making out and a tongue that’s MVP in the tonsil-hockey league.

  Then his hand comes up to my jeans, groping, caressing through the thick denim there. Even that sends lightning shooting through every one of my atoms, but it’s not enough for either of us.

  “Get these fuckers off,” he says, and I’m pretty sure he’s talking about my pants because his hands move to fiddle with the buttons. “Now.”

  I raise my hands and help him with the buttons. We don’t take the time to pull my pants down farther than my thighs. He’s got his hand inside them, and that’s all that matters. He’s about to send me into space like a rocket, and all he’s doing is running a hand over the thin, lacy fabric guarding my no-longer dusty vagina.

  “You are so wet,” he says. “Shit. Damn. Hell.”

  “Colorful,” I say of his vocabulary. “Don’t you dare stop, Pierce.”

  He muffles a half laugh into my neck as he bites at my skin there. If I don’t have a hickey, I’ll be surprised. Then I surprise myself further because I wind my fingers through the back of his shaggy hair and pull his mouth to my neck.

  He creates a light suction, running his tongue along the sensitive skin while his fingers run along the edge of my panties. I squirm with pleasure, with need. His fingers toy with the edge of the lace until one of them dips underneath and I suck in a breath sharp enough to crack a rib.

  The moan coming out of my mouth sounds like a bobcat, or a horse, or…something—I can’t think. His finger strokes me, toying, teasing, not giving me exactly what I need. His eyes are lit with playful lights.

  “Stop teasing me, Pierce,” I warn, and then I slide my hips downward.

  He laughs, softly. “Say my name.”

  “Pierce.”

  “Ryan.” He withdraws his finger as punishment, and I’m ready to cry. He meets my eyes, those chocolate chip irises making my insides turn to lava. “Say it,” he instructs. “And mean it.”

  I last as long as I can, but even my stubbornness—which is legendary in the Peretti family—breaks. “Please, Ryan,” I whisper. “I need you.”

  “Not yet,” he murmurs back, but before I can argue, he slides his finger past my panties, and I close my eyes with pleasure. From here on out, it’s ecstasy as he drives me toward the finish line.

  “Let yourself go, Andi.”

  I do as he says, his name slipping from my lips as I ride a wave of pure pleasure—the longest, tallest, widest wave I’ve ever been taken on in my life. It engulfs me whole, swallows every thought, crashes my mind into darkness. The tremors don’t stop until I’m completely spent, sagging onto his chest, my arms around his neck.

  His hands circle my back, his fingers caressing my waist. I could lie here all day on his chest, his soft, warm breaths tickling my neck—until I remember that I’m the only one who’s been satisfied at all.

  “Oh, my God,” I say. “I’m so selfish. Let me…”

  He clasps my wrist in his hand as I reach for his pants. “No,” he says. “You need to get going. I’ll bet your dad is waiting up for you, and I don’t want to be responsible for returning you home late.”

  “I’m an adult.”

  “And I respect your father,” he says. “Do it for me.”

  “But…” I turn my lips into a pout, my hands reaching for him. “It’s not fair! I want to make you feel as awesome
as you made me feel.”

  “I feel just fine,” he says. “Although I can’t promise I’m not hoping we can do this again sometime.”

  “There are a lot of negatives in that sentence.”

  “That’s the Minnesota coming out of me,” he says. “Let me put it bluntly: I loved touching and feeling you, Andi, but I want more. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “I have a show.”

  “It’s my brother’s bachelor party. We’re doing a joint thing with Lilia and a few of her friends. Come with us. We need more people; a few of my brothers can’t make it to town.”

  “I’m sorry, I would, but I can’t,” I say with a wry smile. “I can’t miss my show. I made the commitment already.”

  “Come out after. I need to see you.”

  “You know what it’s like from hockey,” I say, my face rife with apology. “It’s just like hockey—if you had a game, you couldn’t miss that either, could you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, this is the same thing except I’m not chasing a hard little black circle around on ice skates.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, hockey sounds pretty pointless.”

  I shrug. “I stand on stage and make myself look like a fool in the hope that other people will laugh. I’m not sure who’s gotten the short end of the stick in this deal.”

  Shaking his head, he laughs and stands. “Can I drive you home tonight? It’s late.”

  “No, my car’s here. I have class in the morning, some deliveries, and then my show. Maybe this weekend we can meet up if you’re free.”

  He looks disappointed, but he does a decent job hiding it as he nods. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  I glance at my watch. If I rush, speed through every traffic light and jump a few medians, I just might make it home on time. Before I leave, however, I reach for him, kiss him lightly on the lips, and then pull back. “Thank you for everything tonight. I had a lot of fun, more fun than I’ve had in quite a long while.”