Page 28 of The Friend Zone

If trouble comes in the form of Bay Woods though? Sign me right up.

Bay is the total package. She’s beautiful and kind, intelligent and driven and sexy as fuck. I respect everything about her, including the fact that she likes to eat and didn’t order a salad with everything on the side.

“Do you think you have any room for dessert?” I ask with a smile.

Her blue eyes turn mischievous. “Are you challenging me, Ryker Moore?”

I shake my head. “No, but I always leave a little corner for something sweet.” I say that letting my eyes descend down the length of her gorgeous body. I’m flirting pretty shamelessly but I don’t think she minds.

She chooses to ignore my innuendo. “That can be arranged. But I think I need a minute to let dinner settle before I eat anything else. A walk down the pier could be just what I need. Then we can share a funnel cake. They have the best here and that’s open all year round too.”

“Sounds perfect,” I rise from my seat. “Just let me pay a quick visit to the restroom first.”

In reality, I don’t need the bathroom. I just sneak off to pay for our meal. I have the feeling that if I waited for our server to come to the table, she would fight to pay her share.

My hunch is confirmed when I return to the table. “Ready to go?” I smile.

“Wait, let me waive our waitress down, so I can pay.”

I shake my head. “It’s taken care of.”

She immediately starts to argue. “Ryker. I wanted to buy you dinner as a thank you for stepping in. At the very least, let me pay my share.”

I glare at her when she opens her purse to take her wallet out. “Bay.”

My tone brooks no argument, but she’s stubborn.

“At least let me get the tip.”

She offered that one up on a silver platter.

I can’t resist the urge to tease her. “I didn’t peg you as a ‘just the tip’ kind of girl.”

Bay snorts, conflicted between laughing at my crass joke and fighting me on this. “Ryker.” She says again.

Fuck. I really like the way my name sounds on her lips. I can’t get enough.

“Bay.” I use my sternest tone, but then throw her a lifeline. “The waitress has been generously tipped. Talia too. Come on, let’s go for that walk and if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you buy me some funnel cake.”

Her smile widens and she nods, grabbing her purse and stepping out of our booth.

I have the feeling she likes it when I call her a good girl.

The night is pleasantly warm, the lights of the pier a little too bright to allow us to see any stars, but it doesn’t matter. Tonight I only have eyes for Bay.

I try my luck by taking her hand into mine and she lets me. We walk in comfortable silence, close enough that her arm is brushing mine. The floral scent of her shampoo drifts up to my nose and I’m itching to pull her closer.

It takes me one second too long to gather the courage though, as Bay sees the only souvenir shop that’s open and takes off, dragging me with her.

We spend a while wandering around the store, trying on sunglasses and hats, looking at postcards and t-shirts.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. The vibe between us is easy and the tension from the beginning of the night seems to have dissipated. Bay appears relaxed as she looks at the cheap trinkets with childlike wonder.

It’s contagious and I don’t think I’ve enjoyed myself this much in years. Of course I take every opportunity to get close to her. It’s mostly brief, casual touches. Taking her hand to draw her attention to something, tucking a strand that’s escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

“Oh look,” she beams. “A tiny keychain with the pier’s Ferris wheel. I love Ferris wheels, my Nana used to take Lakyn and I toride every single one we could visit. Both in New York and Jersey and anywhere we went on vacation. It’s always been our thing.”

She puts it back on the display, smiling at some distant memory.

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