“Chinese.”
“Thai?”
“Deal.”
It wasn’t a dinner date, but Dylan still insisted on paying for the takeout. Women didn’t pay around him; friend or date or… whatever Dani was. While they’d been waiting for the delivery, and Dani had been lounging around in a t-shirt and panties, looking fucking adorable, he’d started to wonder if maybe she was right to question why he’d decided to hang around tonight. It wasn’t exactly his M.O. (he’d certainly never ordered takeout after a night with Mia) but he hadn’t had a great day and hanging out with Dani had turned his whole mood around.
They were friends. They could share a meal.
“So tell me about your date tomorrow,” Dylan said, arranging the food containers on Dani’s coffee table.
“Um.” Her eyes darted nervously. “Why?”
“You’re the one who said we should be able to talk about that stuff,” he said. Though his jaw tightened involuntarily when he said it. That was just a reflex, he told himself. Caveman shit. No sense in analyzing that.
“Okay, his name is Michael. He’s a journalist. Freelance. Sports.” She sighed. “Fine, you were right. This is uncomfortable.”
He pulled a spring roll apart and popped half in his mouth, secretly pleased that he was making her squirm the way he had when she’d asked about Kendra. He rolled his hand for her to continue. “Where are y’all going?”
“To a concert. On the waterfront.”
“Romantic.” He chewed the other half, then took a swig of beer. “Like you wanted, right?”
“I suppose so.” She stabbed her Pad Thai and filled her mouth.
“Let’s see a picture.”
Dani’s ice-blue eyes popped, her dark lashes blinking rapidly. Beautiful. He couldn’t help but think it. Even with that horrified expression on her face, she was gorgeous. Mike was a lucky guy.
“No way,” she said.
“Why not, Dani-pie?”
“This is all sorts of weird, Dylan. I’m not showing you a picture of my date while your belt and tie are slung over my arm chair and we’re eating shirtless takeout. That’s not what I meant when I said we should be able to talk about it.”
He looked down at his bare chest. Technically he was the only one shirtless, but he didn’t think clarifying would help his cause. “I really didn’t peg you for a prude, Dani,” he said. “This is an arrangement you came up with—”
She shook her head and finished her bite. “Sonya came up with it, actually.”
A splash of beer went down the wrong tube and he sputtered, coughing into his elbow. “Wait, so Sonya knows about this? Does Cat?” He blinked at her, his eyes streaming from his near-choking experience.
“No. Only Sonya and Benji know. And neither of them know it’s you.”
“Who’s Benji?” He wasn’t sure why he was getting defensive. What did he care who knew he was sleeping with Dani? She was a badge any guy would be proud to wear.
But maybe that was it. He didn’t like some guy named Benji thinking that he was treating Dani in some way he wasn’t—like a piece of ass or a trophy bang. He never would have suggested some hook-up arrangement with Dani Petrillo. She was a goddess—gorgeous, smart, out of his league if he were honest. Sure, he’d made a few half-hearted passes at her over the years. That was his default setting, but he’d never expected to get anywhere. The night of the wedding had taken him completely by surprise. The same with this deal. This was her idea.
“Calm down, Dylan. Benji is my co-worker. He’s the one who showed me the site.”
“Does Benji know all of the details here?”
“Yes he knows the details. What’s the big deal?”
“I just feel like I’m not coming off too good in this story unless it’s told right.”
Her smile did that half-pity thing it had the morning after the wedding. “I promise I’m telling it right,” she said, patting his hand. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t have told it at all. It’s your business too. You don’t have to worry about me telling Sonya or Cat or any of them. Trust me. The last thing we want is for everyone to know about this.”
His jaw tightened another click. Right. He wasn’t even the trophy bang in this situation. He was the dirty little secret.
Something age-old pricked at him. A feeling of unworthiness that he’d buried a long time ago.
Dani closed the cardboard container she’d been eating from. “I’m stuffed,” she said. She stood and walked to the kitchen, tossing her leftovers in the fridge and rinsing out her beer bottle.
That was his cue, he supposed. “Yeah. I’d better get going.” He lifted himself from the warm spot he’d made on her couch and pulled on his t-shirt. Then he collected his tie and belt, wrapping them both around his hand. “I guess I’ll see you next weekend.”
“Yeah.” Dani toyed with the ends of her hair, her other hand on her hip. He knew that move. She wanted to make sure both hands were occupied when it was time for the goodbye.
Too bad. He was taking one more touch before he left. That was what he was getting from this deal, right? He snaked his hand around her waist and pulled her hard against his chest.
She landed with an oomph.
“Say goodbye to me right,” he whispered against her ear. He felt her pulse thumping in her neck, and he dragged his lips across that soft patch of skin. All her muscles went loose in his embrace.
She caught herself, though. Her hands slid up his sides, coming to rest on either side of his neck, tugging him to look at her. Now instead of pounding angrily in his ear, his pulse rocketed. Damn, they were well-matched.
“Good night, Dylan,” she breathed.
“Good night, Dani.” He kissed her again, letting his teeth drag along her bottom lip. He felt her shiver and he didn’t even try to hide his smirk.
Good luck, Mike.
Fifteen
“Joshua!” Dylan let himself into Josh’s house, pushing open the door with his shoulder, his hands full of pizza and beer. It was Saturday night and he and Josh were going to spend it switching back and forth between the Red Sox game and the Orioles game on Josh’s extended sports cable package.
Dylan was also going to spend the night trying to ignore the fact that while he was hanging out at Josh and Cat’s house, Dani was at a romantic waterfront concert in the city. He wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to push Dani for those details. Having a picture in his head of who she’d be with, who’d be touching her after him, hadn’t gone down as easy as he thought it would. It was nothing a few beers and trash-talking Josh’s team wouldn’t delete from his brain, though.