Unfriending the Dr by Piper Sullivan

Persy

Sitting in the backyard with my head resting on Ryan’s head felt nice. It felt perfect, like home. This, right here, was what it should be like to be in a relationship. Comfortable and content, not constantly worrying, overanalyzing, and second-guessing if you have spinach in your teeth, if your make up is on point at all times. I didn’t want a man who expected me to be done up at all times, wearing sexy clothes and body shapers.

I wanted to be comfortable and happy, free to be me.

Ryan dropped a kiss on top of my head and sighed. “Anytime, Persephone. If you change your mind, I’ll be there.”

I closed my eyes at his sincere, deep words, at the masculine scent of him working its way into my brain. I froze. As soon as my eyelids shut, another image came to me. Ryan on top of me, arm muscles bunching and flexing as he thrust into me. His shoulders straining as he held my thighs over his forearms, pounding hard and fast, forcing animal sounds from my lips. Bad idea.

“I know, Ryan. Enough about me. Tell me about your day. Did you get a chance to start on the Porsche yet?”

I felt his smile on the side of my head. “It’s better now, let’s just say that.” He griped a little about the teenagers he’d hired to help in exchange for learning a skill. “I know they’re just kids, dammit, but I was really looking forward to get my hands on the Speedster.”

I laughed; he sounded like a kid who couldn’t wait to get his hands on the newest toy or gadget. “You could just start without them, right?”

“I could, but I think Clyde has a future in mechanics. He’s smart and a quick learner. If only I could get the kid to give a damn about commitment and responsibility.”

“Start without him. That will be his punishment, to learn that the world goes on even if you don’t show up. Missed opportunities and all that.”

He sighed, and I knew what he was thinking because he was a good man. A decent guy. “I know you’re right, but that just seems wrong.”

“Fine, let that beautiful car sit there. Neglected and sad and alone.”

Ryan laughed. “Laying it on a little thick, don’t ya think?”

I shook my head. “No. I think it’s laid on just thick enough. After stewing on it for a while, I know you’ll agree.”

Silence fell between us, as it often did, and it never bothered me like it did with other men. The silence was comfortable. Peaceful. I could actually think instead of wondering if we’d simply run out of things to say to one another.

Ryan.He was the best, and these damn sex thoughts refused to go away. It had been more than three months, why were the images lingering? Obviously, you’re not ready to give up the fantasy, my mind taunted. That was the absolute truth—I wanted another night with Ryan, more than I wanted anything in that moment.

And I would take it, if it wouldn’t ruin our friendship. Which it would.

I sat up as another thought occurred. What if it wasn’t all that great? All that earth-shattering? What if it was merely the haze of alcohol that made me think it was so great? “It was a fluke. Had to be.”

“What?”

I froze at Ryan’s deep voice, his question. Shit. “Our night together, it was a fluke, right? It only seemed so great because we were all dressed up and drunk on champagne. Right?”

“And tequila, don’t forget the tequila.” He flashed a playful smile, which he punctuated with a slow wink.

As if I could forget anything about that night. “Ryan.”

“Fine. What do you want, Persephone? The truth, or do you just want me to agree with you?”

I pushed off his chest because I needed to put some distance between us. I needed a clear head and that couldn’t happen when his scent tempted me beyond reason, beyond what was right for two lifelong friends.

“I think you know the answer to that.” I could always count on Ryan for the truth, even when it was difficult to hear.

“It wasn’t the booze,” he answered bluntly. “It might have been that shimmery fucking dress and those shoes, but I doubt it.” His words were honest and sincere.

I nodded and took a long pull from the beer bottle, letting his words and his tone sink in. “Not the booze. Not the clothes. What was it, then?”

“Us, Persephone. It was us. We’re hot together. Face it. I have.”

I have.Those words echoed in my mind as if they were bouncing off the ridge in the distance. “And you’re okay with what happened between us?”

I blinked, breath held as I waited for his answer. If someone would have asked five minutes ago, I would have said his answer didn’t matter. That my mind was made up. Now, though, my heart raced as I watched his face, looking for any clue of what Ryan would say next.

He nodded slowly and swallowed a mouthful of beer before turning to face me, his blue eyes clear and dark. “I only have one problem with it.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask.“What’s the problem?”

“We haven’t talked about it, and we damn sure haven’t done it again. That’s my problem with it.”

I smacked a hand over my eyes because that was the last thing I had expected Ryan to admit. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night,” I admitted in return. He deserved to know that he wasn’t alone in reliving that night, but it didn’t change anything. “But I think the memories are hotter than the night actually was in real life.”

Didn’t I? I did, but when Ryan’s blue gaze turned to me, his expression saying about a million different things, I wasn’t so sure.

He arched one brow, the expression clear. Bullshit. “Is that a challenge?”

I shook my head and frowned, knowing how much he loved a challenge. “What? No. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe?” Way to make that as clear as mud.

Ryan’s deep laughter sounded and he pulled me against his side, tucking my head right under his chin. “I know exactly what you mean.”

The fact that he knew what I was feeling when it was completely incoherent was the perfect reminder of why we couldn’t do this, couldn’t pursue it any further. He was my best friend. My sounding board. Some days, I thought he knew me better than I knew myself.

I couldn’t risk it.

I wouldn’t.