6. It’s Me
6
Miles
Idon’t know why people complain about moving so much. Today was a breeze, moving everything I own in one trip with my clothes piled in the backseat of my jeep, still on the hangers, with two moving boxes filled with my personal effects in the back. Everything else was boxed up and transported in the back of Riggs’ truck. Easy, peasy.
I guess if I had to actually move furniture, it would’ve been a bigger pain in the ass. But as it stands, I was all unpacked and settled in by five p.m.
And now? Now I’m on my new back patio, grilling T-bones and lobster tails, sipping on a non-alcoholic beer while the voices of my closest friends drift through the air around me.
Life is good.
I feel a presence beside me, and a smile springs to my face when I see Roxy staring at the meat on the grill as she sips her canned margarita.
“Smells delicious.”
“I hope you’re hungry,” I say as I flip one of the massive steaks. “This beast is going to melt in your mouth.”
I hear a small, albeit sharp intake of breath, and my smile widens. I lift my beer and take a sip to hide my grin at her reaction to what I never intended to be a double-entendre. My eyes track down to her chest, and I can see her nipples pebbling beneath her shirt. And it sure as hell isn’t that cold out here. Not this close to the grill, anyway.
For someone who insists she only wants to be friends, she sure is responsive. I don’t hate it, but I do hate the fact that I can’t do anything about it, thanks to her friends-only decree.
She clears her throat, then says, “So, how’s that near beer?”
“Disgusting,” I admit. “But it’ll have to do for the next couple of weeks.”
“You guys really aren’t drinking at all until after the big game?” she asks, cocking her head.
“Nah,” I say with a shake of my head. “We have to keep our minds and bodies in tip-top shape if we want to win.”
“You guys will win,” she says, her voice filled with certainty.
“Yeah, we will,” I reply with a big smile.
She gasps again, this time even quieter than before. She stammers out something I don’t quite catch, then spins around and walks away. Her stride is stilted, like she wants to run but is forcing herself to walk slowly in an attempt to appear casual.
God, she’s so fucking cute.
I turn back to my task, watching the steaks sizzle as I think about Roxy and her friends-only mandate. I can see her reasoning, sure. I wouldn’t want to cause a rift in our friend group, specifically between Riggs and Tessa, but honestly, I don’t think that would happen. Who says it would have to end badly? Roxy and I are both adults. We could be rational and respectful if and when things ended between us, right?
Of course, there would be some awkwardness at first, but that would fade with time.
I know she’s attracted to me. If the one night we spent together wasn’t proof enough, I can tell every time she looks my way and those big brown eyes light up in flames. And I’m sure as fuck attracted to her. My dick twitches to life every time I set eyes on her and memories of that night flash through my mind.
I turn slightly, watching her as she speaks animatedly with Skye, Hadley, and Tessa. Her long red hair flows down her back tonight, big, loopy curls swaying every time she moves. Her black sweater accentuates her curves, and as I realized earlier, hides very little. Tight blue jeans and black ankle boots complete her look, and I don’t try to stop my eyes from dropping to her delectable ass. Saliva fills my mouth, and I take a drink of my near beer as my other hand clenches involuntarily.
I remember what that ass felt like in my hands. Tasted like when I playfully nipped at it with bared teeth.
“Shit,” I murmur, turning back to the grill as I attempt to get my stiffening cock under control.
“Hey, man.”
“Oh, God. Jesus, McKenna. Don’t sneak up on people like that,” I snap through heavy breaths as my heart pounds against my ribs.
Foster narrows his eyes, one dark eyebrow arching up to his messy hairline. “Why so jumpy?”
“I’m not,” I say, defensiveness rearing up inside me. “I was just distracted, and you startled me.”
He tilts his head, then lifts his chin in the direction of the ladies. “Would your distraction have anything to do with a certain redhead, by chance?”
I contemplate denying it, but Foster is an observant son of a bitch. He subscribes to the “talk less, listen more” way of living, and not much gets past him.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask with a sigh.
He holds my gaze, lifting a hand to rub against the ink swirling around his neck. “Considering she’s the first woman in whom you’ve shown any interest in what? A year?”
“I’ve been focusing on work,” I mumble.
“That doesn’t change the fact that no woman has pulled your attention away from the Bandits football field until Roxy. And even if that weren’t the case, any fool could see the truth every time you look at her.”
I flinch. “It’s really that obvious?”
“Like she’s one of these steaks, and you haven’t eaten in a month,” he says with a firm nod.
“I can’t help it, man. I mean…look at her. And not only is she sexy as hell, I like her. She’s smart, motivated, and I can’t get enough of her sass. And knowing how good we are together, physically, only makes her impossible to resist.”
“But she friend-zoned you.”
“She did,” I say, letting my gaze drift back in Roxy’s direction. “She thinks she has valid reasons to draw the line between us, but I can tell she wants me just as much as I want her.”
“So, what are you going to do?” he asks.
“I’m going to be her friend and wait her out. No pressure. No stress. Eventually, she’ll cave. And if she doesn’t…” I say, pausing to shrug, “…I’ll have to find a way to live with it.”
“It’s not like you to be so passive. You usually go after what you want, consequences be damned.”
“I’m not as reckless as all that,” I say, rolling my eyes. “But you’re right, I don’t usually take the sit back and wait approach. But this one is worth it.”
“Well, good luck, man,” he says, clapping me on the back. “I hope it works out the way you want it to.”
With that, he ambles away, heading toward Porter and Riggs, who are sitting on patio chairs surrounding the gas fire pit Riggs left here when he moved out. I refocus my attention on the steaks, lifting the corner of one. Letting it flop back down to the grill, I decide they need about five more minutes.
Chucking my now-empty near-beer bottle into the trash can beside the grill, I turn to head inside to grab a fresh one from the fridge. Pausing, I spin around and head in the opposite direction. I should ask the ladies if they need fresh drinks.
It is the proper thing for a host to do, right? Yeah. It has nothing to do with wanting to be the focus of Roxy’s attention again.
“You have a date?”
I freeze, my feet stalling as Roxy nods in response to Hadley’s question. I hold my breath and listen, eavesdropping shamelessly as a green-eyed monster wakes from its slumber and rises up inside me.
A date? With whom? The questions rage through me, and I pray someone asks them so I can get some answers. I don’t think Roxy would respond very well if I were to ask them, myself.
“I met him online. He lives in Branston and runs his own law practice,” Roxy says, and I feel like I’m going to puke.
“Are you sure? I mean, the internet is full of assholes and weirdos,” Hadley asks, and I want to kiss her.
“Of course, I Googled him,” Roxy assures her. “He’s legit, and his profile picture is the same one listed on his website.”
“That anyone could’ve downloaded and used to create a fake profile,” Hadley counters with a frown.
Exactly. Yep. That’s why I’m upset. I fear for Roxy’s safety. It has nothing to do with being jealous. Yeah.
“I video chatted with him, too, Had. It’s him. Stop worrying so much,” Roxy says, bumping her hip against Hadley’s.
“Where’s he taking you?” Skye asks, taking a sip of the cocktail she made for herself in my kitchen.
“He insisted on Armstrong’s,” Roxy says, and I can practically hear her dramatic eye roll as she shakes her head, making all that gorgeous red hair sway back and forth. “I tried to persuade him to pick someplace else, but he insisted because it’s the nicest restaurant in the area.”
“Does he know that’s where you work?” Tessa asks.
“I’m not stupid,” Roxy says. “I’m not going to tell a stranger on the internet where I work before I get to know him. That’s begging for a stalker situation. I’ll just give the rest of the staff a heads-up to make sure they all pretend not to know me.”
“And you said you’re going out Wednesday night?” Skye asks.
“He got an eight o’clock reservation,” Roxy says with a nod.
I spin around and walk away on silent feet before one of them catches me listening in. I’m not happy about this, and I need to get my shit under control before dinner is served. Being a grumpy dick would only garner a bunch of questions when tonight is all about celebrating my new place.
The only bit of satisfaction I got from that whole conversation was the fact that she refused to let this guy know where she works. And the night we met, she was working and let me take her home, anyway, regardless of the threat of my becoming a stalker.
Fuck. Didn’t I decide I was going to go to Armstrong’s as much as possible to talk her into seeing me again before I found out who she is?
It’s me. I’m the stalker.
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter what I planned to do. We’re in a completely different situation now. And as her friend, I can’t let her go meet some stranger alone and unprotected, right? I should be there, just in case she needs a friend to rescue her.
Right?
That would make you a textbook stalker, a little voice in my head whispers.
Nope. It makes me a good friend. The best kind.
And if this guy distresses Roxy or makes her the tiniest bit uncomfortable, I’m going to fucking blow that date up.