The note I was writing flaps in the breeze and draws both of our gazes to it. As Ryan’s eyes light with curiosity, I find myself praying an eagle will swoop down and carry it away for me.
“Ryan!” I stand, stretch, and pretend not to be embarrassed. Not that I’m counting, but this is the third time he’s opened the door to find me in a strange position. “How’s it going?”
He leans against the door, this time dressed in washed-out jeans and a half-zip sweater, the kind with soft fabric, a half-collar, and a whole pile of sexiness. He looks relaxed and so freaking sexy I almost squash the pizza as I take a step backward.
“Why’s the pizza on the ground?” His eyes are still focused on the note there and, by the time he looks up, understanding has dawned in his eyes. “You were going to ring the doorbell and leave.”
“Not exactly.”
“You were going to ding-dong ditch me.” Ryan steps over the pizza and moves close enough that I can smell his cologne. “Why?”
It’s delicious, like a pan of warm-baked brownies, and I take a deep inhale. “I would never do something like that.”
“Right.”
“I was trying to put the extra Parmesan cheese packets in the box like you asked for. Angela forgot, and we at Peretti’s like to deliver top-notch service.”
His eyes turn all sparkly, as if he’s amused. The smile curving his lips upward makes my insides tingle. The thought that I made Ryan Pierce smile is like getting all I ever wanted for Christmas. It’s incredible the way he’s looking at me like I’m someone important, someone he might like to be friends with, and I want to say more funny things just to keep that grin on his face.
“Where can I leave a review?” he asks. “Ten stars on a scale of one to five. You’re perfect.”
I’m melting inside like one of those lava cakes. He’s standing barely a foot away from me, hands shoved into his pockets. That sweater is calling my name; it wants my arms inside, wrapped around Ryan’s tapered waist, my head on his chest, that gorgeous smile pressed against my forehead.
“It’s nothing.” I wave a hand, feeling my cheeks redden. “I’m going to head out now. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I have to pay you.”
“Oh, no. This one’s on me. You’ve over-tipped me so much I owe you a pizza.” I thumb over my shoulder. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to interrupt, so I’m going to head out, and I’ll—”
“Interrupt what?” Laughing, Ryan reaches for my arm. His fingers clasp around my wrist before I’ve made it off the steps. “I just ate, Andi. I ordered the pizza so I could talk to you. You’re not interrupting anything.”
This is the closest thing I’ve heard to a pickup line in almost a year, and it sends shivers down my spine, quite literally.
Ryan’s looking concerned since I’m shivering in the middle of summer in Los Angeles, but he must be used to my strangeness by now because he lets it go and turns his attention back to the pizza.
It’s now that I realize those damn eagles never swooped in to steal the note I’d been writing. He reaches over to grasp it. I see it happening, but I’m too late to stop anything. I make an attempt to lunge for it, miss wildly, and pretend to tuck hair behind my ear as he straightens, paper in hand.
“What’s this?” he asks.
I make a weak grab for it. “Please don’t read that.”
“But you’ve written my name on it. You were leaving this for me, right?” Ryan’s eyes twinkle as he pulls the note closer to his face.
I make a second feeble lunge for the note, but Ryan dodges, his athleticism obvious even in the simplest of movements. While Ryan dodges, however, my hand continues its trajectory toward his stomach where, instead of retrieving the piece of paper, I cop a feel of his abs—and what a damn good feel it is.
“Sorry,” I say, retracting my hand like I’ve been burned. “I was going for the—”
“Is this a breakup note?” Ryan’s eyebrows shoot up, a grin blossoming across his face. “Andi Peretti, are you breaking up with me?”
“No.” I give up reaching for the note and stare at my toes. “I didn’t mean it.”
“But Andi…” That sexy smile peeks across Ryan’s lips as he steps forward, his breath hot in my hair. “How can we break up if we’ve never consummated our relationship?”
“Well, uh…” I step back. “It’s sort of a breakup note. I’m breaking up with you…as your delivery girl.”
Ryan reads the note once more, this time aloud.
“Dear Ryan, These last few weeks have been really, really fun, but I don’t think I can see you any longer. I’ve interrupted your sex life, crashed your car, and now I’ve ding-dong ditched you. I’m the world’s worst delivery girl. Please consider ordering from another pizza place. Sincerely, Andi.”
“I hate to point fingers,” I say once he’s finished, “but if you hadn’t answered the door in your towel, none of this would have happened.”
“How is that related to anything?”
“Forget about it.”
Ryan steps forward. “And what is this about my sex life?”
“The other night! Well, a few weeks ago now. The first time I delivered your pizza…”
He blinks. “That’s impossible.”
I cough. “Um, I’m pretty sure the sounds I heard weren’t in my imagination. Unless—” I clap a hand over my mouth. “Was it a movie?”
Ryan looks more confused than ever. “What are you talking about?”
“Wait a second, it couldn’t have been a movie.” I gesture toward his front window. “I saw shapes and…parts.”
He thinks for a long minute and then finally, he smiles. It’s more of a smirk than a smile really, and he laughs. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“That wasn’t me. It was my brother and his fiancée.”
“Lilia,” I fill in. “We’ve met.”
“Ah,” he says. “Well, yes. What can I say? They’re in love, and it is their place. I’m just crashing here on business. I am sorry you had to see that, however.”
“There’s one question I still need answered.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“If they were the ones having sex, why were you naked too?”
He runs a hand through his shaggy mess of hair. “I was hardly naked!”
“You had a towel around my waist.”
“My waist,” he says, calling me out on my Freudian slip. “I had a towel around my waist.”
“Yeah, well…” My face is heating. “You didn’t have anything on underneath.”
“You looked?”
“No, but—”
“It’s okay, I looked too.” He winks at me, and I forget my train of thought. Then he speaks again, and I snap back to attention. “And I liked what I saw.”
I swallow. “What did you see?”
“You, Andi. You are goddamn sexy.”
I’m flustered. Hot and bothered doesn’t even begin to describe it, so I do my favorite thing and change the subject. “You never answered my question, Mr. Pierce!”
“What question?” His eyes are dark and hooded, as if he’s thinking dirty thoughts in that beautiful head of his. “I’m distracted.”
“Why you opened the door next to naked!”
“I was in the shower and didn’t realize you’d get here so quickly. I hopped out expecting some pimply-faced kid.”
I grin at his honesty then change the subject again. “I’m sorry about your car.”
“Don’t apologize.” Ryan shifts in the doorway, leans closer to me. “It’s already fixed. I have a buddy who gave me a great rate.”
“I want to pay for it,” I say. “Maybe I can just pay out of pocket. Or, if you need something—you know, a housekeeper or whatever—I can work off the payment. I’m in school now, so cash is tight.”
“Nope, we’re all good.” Ryan takes a glance at the note in his hands. “So long as you agree that this breaking up business is bullshit.”
“Bullshit,” I offer with a nod.
“I don’t want to see other delivery girls,” Ryan says. “I’d like to be exclusive with you, Andi Peretti.”
I clear my throat and bob my head again. It’s safer to remain silent, seeing how my mouth has been doing nothing but getting me into trouble.