Chapter 25 – pippa
PIPPA
“So, who’s the guy this time?” Ryan asks.
I pause by the door. He doesn’t look over from where he’s playing video games in the living room, but I get the feeling that he’s paying close attention anyway.
It’s the first time I’ve gone out for a date since Ryan had to rescue me—and the first time since we started sleeping together.
We’ve fallen into a kind of routine over the past few days.
We’ll fuck—at least twice, sometimes more—but we always spend the night in our own rooms, as a half-hearted gesture toward boundaries.
The sex has only gotten better every time.
Sometimes Ryan dominates, and sometimes I let him.
Other times, I resist following orders until he’s gotten me so worked up, I can’t resist doing whatever I have to so I can come.
It felt weird getting dressed for tonight’s date, knowing that Ryan had his face buried between my thighs just a few hours ago. But we agreed that what we’re doing is just physical, so even though it’s against all my better judgment, I can't seem to make myself stop.
Even thinking about it now, part of me wants to tell Cat I have a headache and climb into Ryan’s lap for another orgasm or two. As fun as that would be, I know I can’t.
Ryan and I are having fun, but I need more than just a fuck buddy. I want love–—real love—and he could never give me that.
“So are you going to tell me his name or not?” Ryan asks, snapping back into reality.
I shrug. “I don’t know it yet.”
He puts down the video game controller and sits up straight. “What do you mean, you don’t know his name? Where did you find this guy?”
“Don’t worry. You won’t need to rescue me from any psycho killers this time. Nate and Cat set me up with him.”
Ryan frowns. “It’s not Luke, is it?”
“No, it’s one of Nate’s colleagues.” I put one hand on the wall for balance while I pull on a pair of platform Mary Janes. “It’s a double date, so I get a little time with Cat, too.”
“You really want to date some meathead in security?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s not a bouncer. Cat says he’s part of the acquisitions team.”
“So he’s a nerd.”
“I have no idea, Ryan. Right now, you know as much as I do.”
“Just remember, if he’s single, it’s for a reason. You have to figure out what that reason is. He’s probably super boring, or a total player. Maybe both.”
“I’m single,” I remind him, exasperated. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with me?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure.” He shoots me a flirty smile. “Why don’t you take that dress off and let me check?”
Heat flickers between my thighs. By now, my body knows that Ryan’s flirty smile usually comes about twenty minutes before a screaming orgasm.
Even though we swore things wouldn’t be different between us, they already are. Before we started screwing, Ryan would have delivered a long list of reasons I’m single, each more insulting than the last. Now, he’s only interested in charming my clothes off. I’ll admit, it’s a nice change.
He was also genuinely excited when I sent him pictures of my new office.
Granted, he also took credit for it, telling me that without his photography, I never would have turned the 12 Dates of Christmas into the massive hit that it is.
He was joking, and I insisted he had nothing to do with the promotion.
I’d never tell him the truth—he’s been a huge influence on my writing ever since I moved in. The office is, at least a little bit, because of him.
To celebrate, he ordered sushi from my favorite place and let me turn The Vampire Diaries back on for a mini-binge. I mean, we spent most of the time making out instead of actually watching it, but it was worth it. Especially when he pulled down my sweatpants, crawled down between my thighs, and—
Ryan’s eyes heat, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking right now. I clear my throat.
“I have to go. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Have a swell time,” he says sarcastically.
Subtlety has never been one of Ryan’s strong suits. He’s obviously bothered that I’m going out with another guy, even though he agreed to it a few days ago.
For someone allergic to real feelings, Ryan Archer says a lot with the way he silently tops off my coffee in the morning, or turns the fireplace up when she sees me shivering from the draft in the apartment. It’s infuriating—being cared for by someone who refuses to admit he’s capable of caring.
White Christmas lights and silver bells hang tastefully along the walls of the Michelin-star restaurant. My red wine practically glows from inside a sparkling crystal glass. I don’t even want to know how much it cost, since Nate picked it out and paid for it.
My date, Jacob, matches perfectly with the luxe surroundings. He’s got that shiny rich guy hair, an aristocratic nose, and a perfectly sculpted beard, which frames his bright white smile.
“How’s your salmon?” he asks.
“A little fishy,” I quip.
His brow furrows. “Really? If you don’t like it, I can flag down the server.”
“Oh, no, I was joking,” I clarify. “It tastes wonderful. How’s your steak?”
“Really fantastic. Do you want a bite?”
I nod, and Jacob cuts off a generous piece, which he puts on my plate.
This is how he’s been the whole date. Handsome, polite, and extremely curious about me.
He’s asked about my job, my friendship with Cat, and my apartment search, plus he let me show him about a thousand photos of Waffle. Check, check, checkity check.
He also doesn’t get my dumb jokes like Ryan would. He’s polite to a fault, not even joining in with Cat and Nate when they teased me about turning down the complimentary champagne. His perfect white smile doesn’t put butterfly’s in my stomach like Ryan’s flirty one did.
God, why am I comparing him to Ryan? It’s like my mind is actively trying to sabotage the first good date I’ve been on in…well, years, if I’m honest.
I imagine shutting a physical door on Ryan in my mind and refocus on Jacob.
“So, Jacob. Do you have any family nearby?”
“My sister lives in town, and our parents live a few hours away.”
“Are you and your sister close?”
He nods. “We’re only two years apart, so we practically grew up together. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t chasing me around, trying to convince me to play soccer with her.”
“And did you?”
“No, because she kicked my ass every time.” He laughs. “She played in college, and she’s still on a rec team. I’m hopeless on the field.”
I grin. “Same here. Let’s just say, I’ve figured out every possible way to get out of gym class.”
“Well, I’d ask you if you had family nearby, too, but I already read that Toronto Tea post,” he says.
Fuck.
I swallow my wine down the wrong pipe, choking and coughing. I’d practically forgotten about that stupid blog post, with my new promotion and Ryan keeping me busy. It hasn’t sunk in that the rumor is out there now for anyone to see—including anyone I date.
Jacob pats my back, looking concerned. “I’m so sorry, Pippa, that was a bad joke. I swear, everyone knows that blog only prints stupid rumors.”
“Oh god, especially this one,” Cat chimes in. “Pippa and Ryan would never be into each other. ‘Loathing’ isn’t a strong enough word for how they feel about each other. Is there a stronger word than hatred?”
Nate and Jacob laugh, and I join in half-heartedly.
I wish I knew how Cat would react if I told her the truth about me and Ryan. Would she tell me I’m crazy? Would she judge me for it? She’s a pretty open-minded person, but I know that sleeping with my stepbrother would cross a line for a lot of people.
As much as I’d love to confide in my best friend, it’s not worth the risk. Cat’s friendship means too much for this temporary thing with Ryan to get in the way.
“Yeah, the whole post is ridiculous,” I say, as lightheartedly as I can. “I have no idea where the crazy writer could’ve possibly gotten that idea.”
“The Tea really posts a lot about you and your friends, Nate,” Jacob says. “It’s like all their writers have it out for you.”
“Not all the writers,” Cat corrects. “Just ‘Peppermint.’ When Nate and I got involved, they were always writing up these crazy theories about us.”
“Well, they weren’t all crazy theories. Some of it was actually true,” Nate says.
“So, what are we thinking about dessert?” I say quickly. I don’t want us to start picking apart how much of the Tea’s articles might be based in fact.
“I could go for the hot fudge brownies,” Jacob suggests. “Do you want to split that, Pippa?”
“Yeah, sounds great.”
While Nate and Cat debate whether to order the apple tart or the ice cream sampler, I spot my phone lighting up in my purse. Ryan’s name flashes on the screen.
Ryan
How’s the acquisitions guy?
I bet five bucks he’s boring you to tears by now.
I kick my purse under the chair so I’m not tempted to answer. I have no business answering flirty texts from my stepbrother when I have a perfectly good date sitting right next to me.
It’s time to start thinking about my future.