“But—”
“I know Nick Bennett.”
My jaw drops. “You know Nick Bennett?”
Nick Bennett is the legendary talent agent from one of the largest agencies in Hollywood. He’s known for handling most of the household-name comedy talent. If I saw him in person, I might fall to the floor.
“My brother has all these connections because of his job,” Ryan says. “What do you say I get you a meeting with Nick and in return, you play my girlfriend for one weekend? I won’t make a move on you if you don’t want me to.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I hardly know you!”
“We’ve been exchanging pizzas and money for weeks now,” he says, concern in his gaze. “I feel like I know you better than my best friends.”
I laugh because his eyes are alight with mischief, and his smile is contagious. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t have to get me a meeting with Nick—you didn’t let me pay to fix your car, so I already owe you for that.”
“Does that mean yes?”
I rest my fingers on my lips, thinking.
“Fly out for two days,” he says. “I’ll pay for everything and I’ll get you a private hotel room so you don’t have to stay with me. Come on, Andi. It will be fun. Please?”
I don’t know what makes me say yes, but I find myself nodding my head a second later. “Wait,” I say, sort of changing my mind. “It’s two months away? What if we’re not even talking by then? A lot could happen to our delivery girl, pizza order-er relationship by then.”
“Give me two months to date you,” he says. “We’ll hang out and get to know each other. If you still like me by then, you’ll come with me to the wedding. If not, well, no harm done. Hopefully we can have some fun in the meantime.”
“Date?”
“Look, Andi, I’m going to be honest. I already mentioned this business with Jocelyn Jones—if I want to get signed with her, I have to keep my love life squeaky clean. No relationships, no public hookups, no drama. She’s like a skittish horse at the first signs of drama.”
His meaning starts to sink in. “I understand. I’m the easy option. Hang out with me as a cover, and then when it’s crunch time, we go our own separate ways.”
“No,” he says. “You’re not the easy option, you’re the best option because I actually like you, a lot. I can talk to you. Do you know how hard it is to carry on a conversation with a puck bunny?”
“I’ve never tried,” I say dryly. “Though I imagine it’s riveting.”
He laughs. “Look, I understand if you don’t want to. I’ll still get you that meeting with Nick. I didn’t mean to make it sound like an ultimatum, and you deserve a meeting.”
“Ryan—”
“I was just thinking it would be great all around. It’d make my mom happy if I didn’t show up alone, Jocelyn would be pleased that I don’t have any relationship drama to speak of, and most importantly, I’d be happy because I’d get to hang out with you.”
This is not where I thought today would go. It’s been a rollercoaster for sure, but this makes more sense than anything else. It makes more sense than him actually being interested in me.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t want anything more from me than a friendship. I am good at being the friend, just not so good at being the girlfriend.
But then Lisa and Angela’s words enter my mind—Lisa telling me I never take risks on guys, that my vagina is getting dusty—and I decide that enough is enough. I don’t want a dusty vagina any longer; I want to have a great time with Ryan Pierce.
“You know what?” I say, new energy in my voice. “I’m not in a place to have a relationship either. I’m graduating school soon, and then I have to focus on my career. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun in the meantime.”
“Just fun,” he says. “No strings attached.”
I’m not sure if that means sex or not, but I figure we’ll play things by ear. “Just friends?” I confirm. “We’re not agreeing to hook up?”
“Just friends. I won’t make a move unless you kiss me first,” he says with a wink. “I don’t want to screw this up.”
“Fine,” I agree. “With one exception: you don’t have to date me. That’ll just make things complicated. Let’s just hang out as friends. I already owe you enough for the car ordeal, so if I go with you to the wedding, will you consider things even?”
“They already were, sweetheart,” he says. “But yes, let’s consider it even.”
I stand up and extend my hand for a shake.
He surprises me by extending his hand, clasping it around mine, and bringing the whole thing to his lips. “Even if I don’t have to date you, Andi Peretti, I’m going to date you these next two months, harder than anyone has ever dated you before.”
Despite all my best intentions, little butterflies bang about in my stomach. “Oh, boy,” I say. “What a ride this will be.”
“It’ll be a ride—” Ryan is interrupted by a beep from my phone.
I excuse myself and open the message. It’s an urgent note from Lisa.
Lisa: Get your ass to Laugh House. I just booked a last minute gig and it’s paid!!!! Hurry. I will literally die if nobody is in those seats when I go on. Twenty minutes.
CHAPTER 11
Ryan
Something’s wrong.
Here I am thinking that we’ve finally turned a corner and…shit. That look on her face as she’s reading her texts is not good. She’s about to pull out from this agreement, and I was just starting to feel excited about it all—the possibility of Andi being mine, even if only for a short time, and only for pretend.
I should never have roped her into this thing with the wedding. I’m such a selfish bastard. And what the hell was I thinking bringing up Nick Bennett? Am I that big of an asshole, trying to name drop like some clown?
The thing is—well, I can’t explain it. There’s a part of me that wants to be next to Andi more than anything, and I’m not above pulling a few names out of my pocket to make that happen. I need to prove to her that I’m not the same sort of asshole she usually spends time with, judging by the way she’s acting surprised at the simplest things I do for her.
I saw the way she was uncomfortable in the kitchen, and it annoyed me. To think that someone wouldn’t see Andi for who she is—smart, funny, a great girl. I knew already that she’d see straight through any one-night stand bullshit I pulled on her, which was why I wasn’t going to try that route.
Andi isn’t a bunny. If she were a puck bunny, I could’ve already had her shirt off and my hand down her pants, but that’s not the case. I’m not interested in bunnies anymore. I’m interested in Andi.
Now, I need more time with her, to show her that. The ten minutes a week we spend awkwardly exchanging pizzas isn’t enough, and now I went and ruined even that. Something’s clearly wrong judging by her face. She’s still looking at her phone like somebody died.
Or maybe she’s come to her senses and realized my intentions, that I don’t want to be friends with her, that I want to make her mine, to take the piece of Andi that she showed me earlier—the strong, aching piece tinged with sadness—and make her forget all the bad. I want to bring her only the good, and I want to hear her laugh more than anything in this universe.
“Andi, is everything okay?” I ask. She looks frigging amazing in that collared shirt. I try not to focus on her boobs and keep my eyes looking at her face, but it’s hard. I’m hard. I want her—why can I not focus on her words? I clear my throat and try again. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” she says quickly. “Nothing bad, but I have to go.”
“Did something happen?” I wonder if it’s me. “Did I say something?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” she says, her eyebrows crinkling. “It’s just my friend…”
Even her eyebrows are sexy. What the hell is wrong with me? I accidentally tuned out, and now she’s talking about something else.