Unfriending the Dr by Piper Sullivan

Ryan

The worst part of being the sole person responsible for keeping Branson Automotive running was absolutely, without a doubt, hands down, dealing with the paperwork. It was a necessary evil to make sure I operated in the black, to make sure I didn’t overpay for parts and pass that on to my loyal customers. Every month, I put it off until it could no longer be delayed.

That’s why it was after midnight and I sat on Persephone’s sofa with my inventory receipts, printed out spreadsheets, and order forms spread all around me and spilling onto the coffee table. The place was a mess because I hated staring at a damn computer for hours at a time, so I printed out the spreadsheet and compared it to receipts, stock and future orders. Maybe I should take Persephone up on her offer to help me find a bookkeeper.

At some point.

It was an expense I didn’t want to think about, no matter how much business sense it made.

The sound of the front door opening and then closing softly was exactly the distraction I needed. Persephone stumbled into the living room, wobbling as she toed off one shoe and then the other.

“Hey, Ry.” Her brows crinkled as she took in the papers that covered half of my body. “What are you doing?”

“Paperwork,” I answered with an amused smile. “Somebody’s been drinking.”

She raised her hand. “Guilty. But only a little.” To punctuate her point, she held her thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart, one eye slanted, lips curled into a crooked smile.

“You’re drunk,” I told her with a growing smile.

“Nope. I’m tipsy—and not because I drank too much, it’s because I skipped dinner.” Her violet eyes darted around from document to document, avoiding my face, before she made a beeline for the kitchen. She was still embarrassed about propositioning me, which I understood, but I wouldn’t let her avoid me. I couldn’t.

Even if her embarrassment meant she wanted to take it back. It would suck to lose out on this night together, but there was no way I would lose her from my life. “There’s a sub in the fridge with your name on it.”

Persephone, who was clearly more than a little tipsy, let out a startled gasp and turned to face me with wide eyes and red cheeks. “You scared me!”

I shrugged. “Who were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed and put a hand to her chest. “You got me a sandwich?”

“Of course I did. Avocado with Swiss and provolone, bacon, roasted red pepper, lettuce, and cucumber.” It was the strangest damn sandwich in the history of sandwiches but she loved it, and often forgot to eat dinner.

“My favorite.” Her eyes gazed up at me like I was a hero. She was so damn gorgeous when she smiled, especially when it was aimed my way. “I’m starved.” Persephone took the sub and dropped down in a chair, unwrapping it like a present on Christmas day.

The woman had a voracious appetite in general, but when she skipped a meal, no one enjoyed food more. Or made it so damn enjoyable to watch. She grunted and moaned as she bit and chewed, dancing the whole time. Mine. The thought popped in my head again and I knew I had made up my mind.

Before we got down to that business, I grabbed the pitcher of tea she kept in her fridge and the onion rings that were warming in the oven. “Forget something?”

She looked up at me with a wide-eyed expression that slowly morphed into a smile. “Thanks, Ry.”

“My pleasure.”

By the time she’d made her way through half of the sandwich, Persephone had slowed down. She took a long sip of tea and ate the last onion ring before her eyes landed on my face. “Did I screw up everything between us the other day?”

Ah, so she was ready to talk. Good. “No.” Reaching across the table, I held her hands in mine and smiled. “How many times can I tell you that nothing will ruin our friendship before you believe me? We’re solid.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “So, you’ll forget I ever opened my trap to say anything?”

“No.” There was no way in hell I could forget her looking at me with fire in her eyes and a determined expression on her face as she told me she wanted me. Again. “Do you want me to forget it?”

If that was what she wanted, what she truly wanted, I would make every effort to forget.

When she removed one hand and then the other from mine, hope started to flee the room and my heart. “Yes. No. I don’t know, Ryan. But we should forget it. Right?”

Her uncertainty infused that fleeing hope once again. I shook my head and saw the conflict in her eyes. “No, we shouldn’t forget it. That night was incredible, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since it happened. Have you?”

“Ryan,” she sighed.

“Have you?” This was too important to let her off the hook easily.

“No, I haven’t.” It was a reluctant admission, but Persephone couldn’t lie to me. “That’s why I’m convinced we shouldn’t do it again. If it’s horrible, how will we look each other in the eye ever again?”

I barked out a laugh. “Easily. If the sex is awful, then we can go back to being just friends, safe in the knowledge that we won’t have to put up with bad sex for the rest of our lives.”

Her full lips twitched. “Won’t it be awkward?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. “But we’ll harass each other, mock each other, and then move past it. Rock solid, right?”

She nodded and fell back in the chair with a sigh. “So, you don’t want to forget we had sex.”

It wasn’t a question. She knew me well enough to know there was more.

Much more. “No, I don’t want to forget it. And I think we should do it again.”

Persephone sat up, eyes wide, the pulse in her throat racing like it was trying to escape. “You do?”

“I do. It was a hot night and no hardship for either of us, right?” She didn’t answer, but the heat that flared in her eyes was answer enough. “And if you really think it was a fluke, we should find out so we can get back to our lives.”

“And that’s it?”

I didn’t know what she was asking exactly, but the wariness in her eyes told me the answer was important.

“Not quite.”

“What are you saying, Ryan?”

Fear. That was good because it meant she knew how important all of this was. To both of us.

I pushed back from the table and stood, knowing exactly what needed to be done. “I’m saying that I agree to one more night, but I have feeling it won’t be enough.” I stood at her side, forcing her gaze up until she stood, her eyes connected to mine.

“It has to be,” she insisted.

“Why?”

“Because.”

I smiled. “That’s not an answer, but I’m happy to give you one.”

Before she could ask another question or give me another bullshit excuse about what this needed to be, I hooked one arm around her waist and the other around her back to spear my fingers through her soft ebony waves. Then, I did what I’d wanted to do for the past ninety-plus days: I put my lips to hers and kissed the hell out of her.

It started slow, giving her a chance to pull back, to tell me that all she wanted from me was sex. Persephone was stiff at first, still warring inside her head over whether two friends should be kissing like this. But, moment by moment, her body relaxed into mine, her tits pressed against my racing heart. Her hands slid up my back until her fingers curled in my hair.

She moaned and I deepened the kiss, smiling against her lips at the taste of bacon and strawberry lip balm. Her body molded to mine, a clear sign she had no plans to break the kiss anytime soon, which suited me just fine. I never wanted the kiss to end, not when she was so hot and so willing, so pliable in my arms.

My hands slid down to her ass, squeezing and kneading as I pulled her close. I wanted, hell, maybe I needed Persephone to see how much I wanted her. Not just the sex, but the woman.

She pulled back with a gasp, her eyes wide with shock and a hint of surprise. “Who knew we’d be so good together?”

“I knew,” I answered honestly, my voice thick and gravelly with arousal. “Now you know.”

When Persephone put her fingertips to her lips, like she was trying to trap the taste of me in her mouth, I let out a low groan and took a step back. “Shit.”

I smiled. “You tell me when you’re ready and I’ll be here.”

“Oh. Okay.” The disappointment that radiated off her, from the downturn of her lips to her sagging shoulders, gave me a boost because it meant I wasn’t totally alone in this. “I’ll, uh, let you know.”

“I’ll even shave,” I told her with a smile as I ran my fingers over the stubble that had sprouted up over the past week. “For now, I should get going. Gotta finish this inventory to place an order in the morning.”

She nodded, still silent.

“See you soon, Persephone. Very soon, I hope.”

When it was clear she had been kissed or stunned into silence, I gathered my papers and made my way to the door.

“Ryan?”

Hand on the knob, arm pressing my laptop and papers to my side, I paused and turned to her. “Yes?”

“Don’t shave.”

And just like that, I was hard all over again. “Done.”

My heart raced and my cock strained against my zipper—a clear sign I needed to get the hell out of there before we both ended up naked and on that same sofa.

Again.