My stomach stirs. I wonder what I should tell him if he does ask me about Dylan. While I anxiously wait for what he’s going to ask, we turn down the bread aisle.
“Have you always had a thing for bad boys?” he finally asks.
My entire body heats. “I don’t have a thing for bad boys.”
I’m such a liar. If I didn’t already want Dylan, I’d probably be looking at Jax like every middle-aged woman we’ve passed in the store has. Like they want him to jump on the end cap and do a striptease.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be? We’re going to lie to one another?”
I pick up English muffins and hold the package in front of my face so he can’t see me blush.
“Rian?”
“I swear if you tell him, I will come into your room at night and cut off your balls.”
He crosses his legs and puts his hands over his junk. “Ouch. You’re not that kind of girl. Don’t say things that will make me hide all the knives under my pillow at night.”
I laugh and he does too as we walk down another aisle, each of us picking up things and tossing them in the cart.
“I won’t say anything, but you know Phillips knows, right?” he says.
“No, he doesn’t, and it’s just a crush. Not like anything would come from it.”
He stops the cart and backs me up to the end of the aisle, plucking my paper and pen out of my hand and tossing them behind him. I try to weave to the side to see where they went, but he moves in the same direction. “I guarantee you, Phillips knows how you feel and so far he’s done nothing about it, so why don’t you give this bad boy a try? I promise to check all your boxes.” His hand lands on my hip.
There’s nothing terribly inappropriate about what he’s doing. But I can’t help but notice that he smells different than Dylan. It’s muskier.
“My boxes?” I roll my eyes and look away.
His forefinger lands under my chin and forces me to face him. He is gorgeous. All chiseled jaw and sharp nose. Scruff like he doesn’t care, and his hair gelled into a mess of perfection. Lean muscles that could have him front and center in a Calvin Klein ad.
“Yeah, your boxes. Don’t-give-a-shit attitude. Check. Fuck you in public. Check. Dirty talker. Check. Know how to make a woman orgasm five times one after the other. Check.”
With the last pluck of his tongue, my lady parts are scratching their heads saying, Phillips who?
But that’s not totally true, because all I can think about is Dylan giving me those things. Maybe Jax is too bad boy for me, if there’s even such a thing.
“Okay, playtime is over.” I push his hard chest and he backs up, laughing.
I bow my head at an elderly lady who’s blatantly gawking from down the aisle.
“I thought playtime was just starting. Man, Phillips really has his grip on you.” He places a box of Triscuits in the cart.
I do admire his ass as he heads down the aisle though.
“If you aren’t taking me up on my offer, then you can’t enjoy staring at my finer qualities,” he says, turning the corner and leaving me in the cookie and cracker aisle in stunned silence once again.
I grab all the E.L.Fudge cookie variations and follow him.
We reach the frozen foods section without making another scene, although I really need to get home to make good use of my toys. I think I’ll imagine Dylan caging me in in the supermarket like Jax did.
Standing in front of the ice cream, I debate between Ben and Jerry’s and a gallon of store brand since they’re the same price. Jax grabs a gelato pint.
“So far, your Triscuits and gelato aren’t supporting your bad boy claim,” I say with amusement.
“Then take a chance and go out with me. If for no reason but to drive Phillips crazy.”
There’s no smile or amusement in his tone. He’s serious. All I can think is, does Dylan really know how I feel? Does he have any interest other than remaining friends? Because if he did have any interest in me, wouldn’t he have hit on me at some point? Or asked me out?
I bite my lip. I might not have feelings for Jax like I do Dylan, but maybe it’s time I put Dylan aside and see what else is out there. I don’t know Jax well. Maybe I could end up liking him in that way.
“Okay,” I say.
Jax’s eyes widen. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six. Dress casual.”
My heart flips-flops. Here’s a guy who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. All that needs to happen now is for the universe to shift so that I want him instead of the guy who doesn’t see me as anything other than a friend.
Chapter Ten
Dylan
Saturday nights are always long. Not that I have any right to complain. Lyle actually had two girls come in after they saw his designs on Instagram. One got a piece and the other one said maybe next week. And the line that never died down is a good thing. Most of Frankie’s regulars trusted me to do theirs. Still, it was a nonstop night that required stellar concentration and my brain is fried.
As I trudge down the hall to my apartment, all I want is to strip bare and crawl into bed, but the giggling on the other side of the door when I insert my key says Jax brought someone home.
When I enter the apartment, all I see is Jax on top of someone on the couch. I’m half tempted to shut the door and crash on Seth’s couch until the blonde peers up to see who it is.
My gut twists in one giant knot as Rian says, “You’re home.”
“You’re up.” I take off my jacket and hang it up on the hook.
“We couldn’t sleep, so we started watching wrestling. Jax said he once wanted to be a wrestler and was showing me what his signature move would’ve been.”
She’s all happy and now I’m grumpy. Jax’s arrogant smile makes my blood pressure rise, and I swear I can feel my heartbeat in my neck.
“I guess I don’t have to ask how your Saturday night was?” I reach inside the fridge for a beer, torn between staying out here so that maybe Rian will feel uncomfortable letting Jax be all over her and locking myself in my room to continue to live in denial.
“Jax set up the rooftop to watch a movie, so we ate dinner and watched The Wedding Singer. You know, the one with Adam Sandler.” Rian’s giddiness grates on any nerves I had left after my last client didn’t feel the need to tip me since I’m the owner.
“Yeah, I know it.” I sip my beer in the kitchen. “It was a long night. I’m going to head to bed. Enjoy the night, you two.”
Rian sits up and looks over the back of the couch. Surprisingly, no smartass comment comes out of Jax’s mouth, and the two remain quiet as I walk through the apartment to my bedroom.
After closing the door, I sit on the edge of my bed, finishing my beer and overhearing their laughter from the other side of the wall. How the hell did I ever get here? Usually I’d be out at the bars after work. I should’ve accepted Lyle’s offer after we closed up.
I kick off my boots and slide up to the headboard of my bed, putting in a pair of earbuds and grabbing my sketchpad. Rian’s giggling can be heard over the music while I sketch the design that’s occupied my mind since we were in New York last week. A peony with shedding petals—meant for Rian if she ever comes to me for ink. She needs something as beautiful as her and she’s like a peony—a symbol of beauty and fragility, but also a happy life and prosperity.