Unfriending the Dr by Piper Sullivan
Persy
“When you said romance, I was sure you meant holding hands in a dark movie theater, maybe a candlelight dinner or two. Not all this.” I motioned to the fancy French restaurant with the dim lighting and tuxedoed waitstaff, the long white tablecloths and the single rose in a tiny crystal vase. The place was the definition of romance.
“There’s a candle,” he said casually. “Is it too much?”
“Not at all.” I shook my head and smiled. “It’s wonderful, just not what I was expecting.”
I also hadn’t been expecting Ryan to look so good in his date-night attire. He wore a sky-blue button-up shirt that gave his eyes an intense blue color that was almost hypnotic, gray pants that hugged his butt perfectly, and newly shined dress shoes. He was hot stuff.
“Maybe you should adjust your expectations, Persephone. I’m trying to romance you, not just get in your pants.”
I shivered at his words, wondering what kind of alternate universe I’d slid into when I could be immediately turned on by my best friend, a man I’d known most of my life. Was this how it worked? One day, you were just friends, laughing and joking together, and the next, white-hot lust.
“To be fair, there’s no need to try to get in my pants. I’m a sure thing.”
Ryan’s lips curled into a sexy grin. “There’s no ulterior motive to this, just to make sure you know you are beautiful and sexy, and deserving of romance.”
Dammit, it was only our first date and he was making it difficult to keep things platonic—or as platonic as they could be when I hoped the night would end with orgasms. “The orchid was a nice, romantic touch, too.”
This time, his smile was wide and proud. “The color reminds me of your eyes,” he said in low, sexy tone. “And you won’t kill it within the next forty-eight hours.”
His words surprised a laugh out of me. “Another bonus to dating your best friend?”
He nodded. “One of many.”
The heat in his gaze sent a shiver through my body and a pulsing between my thighs.
“What’s another?”
He smiled and nodded at the approaching waiter. “I had them chill your favorite wine—and let me tell you how appalled they were about it.”
I laughed because I could only imagine what this fancy place thought of serving ice-cold red wine. “Sorry, but thank you. It just tastes better that way.”
I shrugged. “They don’t have to drink it.”
His words had a melting effect on my body that I worked like hell to contain. “Good point.”
The waiter approached with a nervous smile. “Good evening. My name is Thomas and I’ll be your server this evening.” His hands shook but he seemed to have a handle on it—and then he didn’t.
The tray wobbled on the edge of the table and the wine bottle tipped over before he could catch it, sending a deep, dark red wine arcing into the air before landing on Ryan’s sky-blue shirt.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!”
Ryan waved off his apology with a good-natured smile but the kid was inconsolable. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Shit,” he muttered to himself. “I am really sorry, sir. I’ll have it dry cleaned. How much is dry cleaning, anyway?”
Ryan smiled again. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. My girl has the best stain remover in the world.” He winked at me before turning back to the waiter. “I’ll tell your boss I tipped the bottle because I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Think he’ll buy it?”
The waiter finally relaxed a little and flashed an uncertain smile. “I don’t know. He’s a stickler about not letting the customers touch the wine until after the first pour.”
“What happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”
Before the waiter could respond, an ear-splitting sound tore through the peace and quiet of the dining room.
“It’s the fire alarm, you folks should head for the exit. It’s that way,” the waiter shouted over the incessant buzzing.
Ryan looked back toward the kitchen and his eyes widened at the flash of flames before he put a hand to my back and guided me out of the fancy French restaurant. “You good?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I answered, my lips twitching with a smile that turned into a giggle.
Ryan raked a hand through his hair and flashed a crooked grin. “Not exactly the night I envisioned for us.”
“Me either, but it’s kind of perfect, don’t you think?”
His brows dipped in confusion. “No. Explain.”
“This kind of craziness, the hilarity of the waiter spilling wine on you and the kitchen catching on fire, it’s us. It’s our life.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his sorrowful expression. “Remember junior prom when we didn’t have dates and decided to go together? My shoes slipped all over the place and your tie wouldn’t stay tied, and then we both got food poisoning from that discount sushi place we thought was so cool. Disaster, but we still had a good time.”
Ryan said nothing for a long moment, shuffling us off to the car. He didn’t speak until his seatbelt was secure and the car was in motion. “I guess you have a point. I hope you do, otherwise this feels like a bad omen.”
A bubble of laughter exploded out of me. “All of a sudden, you believe in omens?”
“Only when I’m at risk of losing something that matters to me.”
“That was sweet,” I told him with a gooey smile and leaned across the center console to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “It’s not an omen, Ryan. Probably a drunk chef.”
Ryan laughed and slowed down as we passed a squat brick building that looked like a tiki hut with the word ‘pizza’ emblazoned across the front in neon green letters. “Then they won’t notice I took this to go.” He opened his jacket and produced what was left of the bottle of wine. “Our little secret,” he whispered with a wink.
“Pizza and wine? Now that’s my idea of a good date.”
Too often, men thought big, splashy displays of wealth and privilege impressed a woman, but the truth was that sometimes a girl just wanted to veg out with her favorite junk food, a movie, and her favorite guy.
“The works?”
I nodded. “Cheese-stuffed crust with extra spicy peppers on the side?”
“What else?” It was our movie night ritual back in high school—all the ingredients on the menu with plenty of spice on the side. “I’ll be back soon.”
Thirty minutes later, I kicked off my shoes and curled up on Ryan’s sofa with a blanket over my lap, a plate of pizza on top while we watched a movie he let me pick.
“What the hell is an erotic thriller, anyway?” He squirmed uncomfortably and frowned at me, the black T-shirt he’d changed into clinging to his biceps and chest magnificently.
“It’s a thriller with erotic elements, duh. Aren’t you enjoying it?”
“It’s fine, just lots of sex and nudity.” He squirmed again and I laughed out loud.
“Horny. You’re horny, aren’t you?”
Ryan shoved half a slice of pizza into his mouth, an innocent expression on his face. “What? Me? No.”
I wanted to laugh at his fake innocence, but a moment of heat lodged between us. His blue eyes connected with my own and held me in his hypnotic stare; a thin thread of electricity went from him to me and back again. The air sizzled, the atmosphere was thick and heavy, the pizza and movie forgotten as lust took over.
And somehow, I went from the middle cushion of the sofa to straddling his lap, holding his face in my hands, staring at how beautiful he was for a long moment before my lips crashed down on his. Ryan tasted of pizza and wine, only better because he also tasted like him. His hands held me tight, gripping me so my center pressed down on his growing erection. “Oh!”
Ryan pulled back, a satisfied smile on his face. “You like that?”
“Maybe I do,” I answered with a laugh.
“You do.” His hands worked quickly, finding the zipper on my lace top and black skirt, opening the front clasp on my bra before he tore my panties right from my hips. “You fucking love it, sweetheart.”
He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t just love it, I couldn’t get enough of it. My hips rolled greedily, his every groan pushing me to hear that deep, masculine sound again and again. We came together quickly, our moves frantic and jerky, rushed and intense. It was everything, and my head spun as Ryan pumped his pleasure into me and begged me to do the same.
It was hot as hell and all-consuming. And then, as quickly as it began, it was over. We were naked and sated, panting hard on his sofa, limbs a tangled mess. “Apparently I do have sex on the first date.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Ryan growled and nipped my ear, then gave my ass a hard smack that sent erotic heat skittering all over my skin. “Besides, I had a dream last night of you riding me just how you did, with your gorgeous tits bouncing in my face, making my mouth water. I beat off to that image. Twice.”
His vulgar words should have turned me off or made me blush, anything but make my nipples bead and my core clench tight. “Yeah? I think I’d like to see that sometime.”
Ryan’s grip tightened on my hip and he growled. “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you say things like that?”
“Who said you were supposed to?” I didn’t want him to keep his hands off me. They were big and talented and just callused enough for me to know that it was a man touching my body.
Ryan growled and pulled me closer, turning me until I was on my back, staring up at his big blue eyes. “What the lady wants.”
Eventually we finished the pizza and the movie, between rounds of hot sex and body-quaking orgasms. By the time I crept home in the early morning hours, on wobbly legs, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
That was exactly how a good first date was meant to end.
And it only took dating my best friend to realize it.
