“I just…” I pause, flustered. “I’m not used to it.”
“Then you’ve been doing it all wrong.”
I look down at my drink. It’s a reflex, not because I want pity. I just don’t have anything else to say. That’s why I’m still single, I suppose—I’ve never met a man who makes me feel good enough—not until Ryan.
“Hey.” He reaches out, tilts my chin up. “You just didn’t know what you were missing. Now you know. Andi, you deserve to have someone open your door and buy you a drink. Don’t settle for the assholes that can’t do something as simple as that.”
I swallow, nodding along. Usually, I’m a dry-eyed, stoic, laugh-in-the-face-of-sadness type girl, but something about Ryan makes my soul pour out words, share my stories with him. Something about him makes me feel safe.
“That’s not everything.” Ryan slips his arm around my shoulder, his voice dropping low. “You deserve a man who can kiss you until you forget your name, a man who can take you to bed, satisfy your every need, and then bring you coffee the next morning. You deserve all of that, and so much more.”
“Thanks, Ryan, but you don’t have to say all this—”
“Nothing I can say will change your mind,” he offers. “Except for you. I’m just telling you the truth.”
My eyes are really smarting now, and I’m thinking it was pretty stupid to agree to be this man’s friend. If I hadn’t just agreed to friendship, I might stick my tongue down his throat right now, and I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t remember my name when he kissed me back. Sometimes I hate being sensible.
“You’re sweet,” I start, but he shakes his head for me to quiet.
“I can see the doubt in your eyes, and I don’t like it. You’ve got a lot to offer this world, Andi, and anyone who doesn’t see that is an asshat.” He pauses for a sip of beer, and then changes subjects slightly. “I’m not saying that I’m the man for you, I’m just trying to tell you that there’s someone out there who’ll treat you well.”
I clear my throat, still in slight disbelief that he cares enough to say anything at all. He doesn’t have to, that’s for sure; with the looks he’s getting from other women in here, he could have any one of them in bed by midnight—myself included, I’m beginning to realize.
Those dark, soulful eyes of his alternate between alert and sensual, charming and thoughtful. The shaggy mess of hair on his head accents his tanned skin and thick, muscled arms hidden underneath a sweater that’s as soft as a minx.
Unfortunately, the only words of his that I can focus on are I’m not the man for you—of course.
“Show’s starting.” Ryan leans back, his eyes focused on the stage. “Do you see your friend yet?”
I shake my head. Lisa’s nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, the waiter stops by just then and deposits another glass of red wine. I take a sip. As I sit back, letting the wine sink in and the hot lights warm my skin, I take some time to look around the room.
The space itself isn’t big, but it is packed tonight. The comic who canceled last minute has a decent following, and the other comics on the roster were C-listers. We’re not talking SNL cast members here; we’re talking actors who’ve had one-liners in movies, recognizable faces who get paid to play gigs, and not the other way around. It is the next step up for Lisa, and I couldn’t be more proud.
“I thought you’d never make it!” a voice hisses in my ear. “I was about to order a pizza to the stage just so you’d get here in time. Do you see the people sitting there? Real live people! That are here to listen to me!” Lisa squeaks as she talks, her breath getting faster and faster as she scans the room.
I grin, kissing her cheek. “You’ll do great. Oh, and Lisa, this is Ryan.”
Lisa straightens up then, stiff as a telephone pole, and she stares at Ryan…just stares, and stares, and stares. Her mouth opens a little bit, and I raise a hand and manually close her jaw.
“Hi.” Ryan extends a hand. “Andi speaks very, very highly of you. Can’t wait to see the show.”
Lisa shakes his hand up and down with less emotion than most robots. When she speaks, she’s looking at Ryan, but I think she’s talking to me. “You brought him?”
“Yes, as I said, this is my friend Ryan,” I repeat.
“You’re friends?” She turns to face me. “I’m your friend. He’s the guy you want to bang.”
Ryan’s eyebrows rise slightly, but he doesn’t look all that dismayed by Lisa’s huge mouth.
“I didn’t say that,” I say. “She’s drunk on stage fright.”
“No,” Lisa says, her jaw still open. “You said it yourself. You want to—”
“I didn’t say that,” I interrupt, my face heating. “Lisa, will you relax? Ryan’s here as a favor because we were drinking wine, and he was sober enough to drive.”
“You drank wine. With Ryan. Pierce…” She trails off. “You drank Ryan Pierce’s wine.”
I can’t tell if she’s more stunned to be meeting the star in person, or if she’s shocked I haven’t mentioned anything to her about it—which isn’t my fault, since it just happened.
I stand up, sensing a flood of questions that may or may not be appropriate for Ryan’s ears. Lisa tends to lose her filter when she’s surprised, drunk, tired, annoyed, angry—she basically doesn’t have a filter, and I don’t want to expose Ryan to her brutal honesty just yet.
“I’ll be right back. I have to…uh, do something.” I flash a brief smile at Ryan before pulling my best friend just outside the doors to the main stage and into a bathroom. “Lisa, get a grip!”
“That’s Ryan Pierce,” she shoots back.
She’s got me there, so I remain quiet.
“How am I just finding out about you drinking wine all up in his house? You’ve got me all flustered right before my show now,” she says, pouting. “You’re hazardous to my career.”
“Why are you flustered?”
“Because Ryan Pierce is in the audience! With my best friend!”
“I’m just getting you ready.” I pat her on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
“Ready for what?”
“The spotlight.” I pause, softening my tone as I pull her in for a quick hug. “Before you get your undies in a bunch, let me explain that I didn’t expect him to be here any more than you did. He ordered a pizza, we talked, drank one glass of wine, and then—”
“You banged your customer?! What will your dad say about that?”
“What? No!” Someone from inside the bathroom stall sucks in a breath, and I lower my voice. “I was going to say it led us here, to your show. It happened in like five minutes. And do not say anything to my dad about banging customers. It’s not true. Ryan does not want to have sex with me.”
“Bullshit.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He looks at you like stuffing on Thanksgiving. He wants to be inside you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You know what I mean,” she says. “He’s got sex eyes for you, and if you send out the right vibes, you’ll be getting lucky in no time.”
“That’s not true. Plus, he’s still a customer.”
“Damn, what a night. Is your dad hiring? I wanna find myself a Ryan Pierce.”
“You’re missing the point.” I smile though, happy to see her shoulders relaxing, a glimmer of a grin on her lips. “Stop focusing on me. Tonight is about you. This is a huge step for your career.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Seriously! They called you tonight when Luke Donahue canceled. Luke Donahue! He just had a line on Mod Family, and he played a bit role in Take Out. People know Luke’s name. You’re going places, Lisa. It’s finally happening! All these years of hard work are paying off.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not ready for it. I thought I was, but all those people—I can’t do it! I’m going to trip and fall, or piss my pants—it’s inevitable.”
“There are going to be more and more people watching you perform. That’s just the way it’s supposed to go. Be confident. You’re sassy. You’re bulletproof. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re nice, somewhere deep down past all your sarcasm.”