Page 70 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“You were jealous?” I ask with disbelief.

“Yes. That’s a new feeling for me, and I’ve got to say, I’m not a fan of fantasizing about doing physical harm to a guy I don’t even know.”

I laugh. “Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. You shouldn’t wish Ravi harm. We haven’t been together since high school, but he’s my best friend. He always has my back, and I trust him explicitly.”

He touches his forehead to mine. “Drive that stake a little deeper, why don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

He lifts his head, gazing deeply into my eyes. “I want to be the guy you trust.”

My pulse quickens, and the honesty and longing in his voice make my insides go soft and warm. I don’t know what this is, and I know making it work would be impossible, but I want him. I want all the joy and goodness of what we had, and I don’t want to fight it anymore. My heart races as I put my arms around him. “You’re the only man I’ve ever let tie me up. That should tell you something.”

“That I’m the luckiest guy around?” He brushes his lips over mine, whispering, “I’ve missed you,” and then he kisses me slowly and sweetly and not nearly long enough.

“I might have missed you a little, too.”

He smiles. “One day I’m going to teach you that phrases like kind of and might have are jagged little buggers.”

I laugh softly.

“We’d better get out there before they figure out we’re more than just friends who hung out in Paris.”

“Ravi knows about us.”

His brow furrows. “You told him?”

“He knows all my…” I stop myself, realizing Ravi doesn’t know all my secrets anymore. “He knows we got together, but I didn’t share the dirty details. I’d like to keep my personal and professional life separate around Min and Chris. I don’t want to muddy the waters.”

“I expected as much, but just so you know, it’s going to be hard for me to act like I don’t want to kiss you after not seeing you for so long.”

“In that case, here’s one to hold you over.” I lean in and kiss him, knowing it will be just as hard for me.

Chapter Eighteen

Pepper

I have walked to work nearly every day for years, but walking down the brick-paved sidewalks with Clay and my colleagues feels a little like I’ve been plunked down in an alternate universe. As shocked and happy as I am that Clay is here, Charlottesville is my safe space, and Ravi, Min, and Chris are my people. We may not socialize outside work much, but we work so many hours, I probably spend more time with them than most married couples spend together. We make a good team, and I don’t want anything to upend that.

I’m anxious as we settle around the table, hoping dinner won’t be awkward, but conversation comes easily, and I’m reminded of all the reasons I’m drawn to Clay. He’s funny and interesting, and he makes everyone feel special. Those were some of the same reasons I shied away from him before Paris. Now that I know who he is, I see his efforts are genuine. I like that he’s taking the time to get to know my friends as we eat, asking about their families and the work they’re doing. But there’s no missing the handful of people who are stealing glances at him, some of them whispering. I guess that’s what happens when you’re a professional quarterback in a college town where people live and breathe football. It makes me a little uncomfortable, and I do my best to ignore it. I can’t imagine what it feels like for Clay, but to his credit, his attention never strays from our group.

Throughout dinner, his leg brushes mine, and he holds my hand under the table. I missed those simple touches, and they leave me wanting more.

After dinner, he picks up the tab, and I’m a bundle of live wires, anxious to be alone with him as we walk back to the office. The approving glances I catch from Ravi only make me more nervous. When we get to the parking lot, Ravi, Chris, and Min thank him again for dinner and say their goodbyes.

As they head for their cars, Clay turns to me. “We did good, Reckless. I don’t think they suspect I’m your boy toy.”

I laugh. I missed how easily he makes me smile and laugh, too.

“Seriously, they’re great, and they obviously have nothing but respect for you. I hope you know I’d never do anything to jeopardize that.”

“I appreciate that.” As I say it, I realize there’s something else I need to know. “Does Dash know you’re here?”

“No. Why?”

“My sisters have been asking about us. I didn’t tell them about Paris, and I just don’t want to deal with their gossip or pressure. Would you mind not mentioning it to Dash until we know what this is?”

“I already know what this is, but sure.” He nods toward the office. “Do you need to go back up to your office to finish up?”