Page 88 of Fumbling for Perfection

“Riley?”

“Oh.” I shake myself free from my lusty exploration and settle on his stormy gray eyes. I swear they’re sparkling. Maybe it’s the lighting. But my office lighting is crap. Could be the glare from my laptop. Yeah. Must be that.

They close slightly and crinkle in the corners, then his gaze drops to my mouth. My tongue touches the middle of my bottom lip of its own accord. Walker shifts from side to side and clears his throat.

Okay. Looking at him isn’t helping. I stare at my computer screen and point to it. “Yup. Lots to do. If only I could afford a clone. Or figure out how to be in two places at once. Or grow two extra hands.”

He takes a seat across from me and crosses his leg over his opposite knee. “A Riley clone?” He scratches the stubble on his chin. “That’s not a bad image. But would that mean I’d have to share the other Riley?”

I take a gigantic sip of my coffee and it gets caught in my throat. I pound my chest to loosen it up and chase down my shock with another sip. Share? Does that mean he thinks he has me now? He wants me now, that I know, just not in the same way I want him.

“Um...”

“Since that’s not on the table right now, how about I help you with my hands?” He wiggles his ten fingers in front of him.

“Your hands?” Lord, they’re beautiful hands. The way he cups my ass in them, or how he massages my breasts with those thick fingers. I cross my legs and clench my thighs. Those fingers. How I miss them in my—

“Riley? Are you okay?”

I snap my eyes to his and run my fingers through my hair. “Sorry. I’m easily distracted these days. A lot on my mind.”

“Let me help.”

I tilt my head to the side. “I appreciate it, but don’t you have to be at the field? Actually, why are you even here? Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. It must have been close to three in the morning when your plane landed. You should be asleep. But what a game. You were amazing. You should have heard Jackson and me screaming at the refs. That first fumble they called on you? Utter bullshit. You didn’t even get a step in before that defender blindsided you. And then your quarterback kept passing instead of giving you the ball. What was up with that? You’re a sure thing.” I realize I’m waving my hands wildly through the air and rambling just a smidge.

Walker’s grinning at me and my thighs get another squeeze. They’re hating me right now. They’d much rather be clamped around Walker’s head than—shit. I can’t think about that right now.

Hell. I’ve never been this horny before. I broke the seal when I had sex with Walker and now that’s all I think about. I’m turning into Kendall.

Or maybe it’s just Walker. He’s still staring at me with that goofy grin, not saying a word. I like the goofy grin, although it’s more sexy than awkward. Since I got outed at my almost wedding with Jackson, I haven’t seen Walker this relaxed. I saw a glimpse of it the day we all went to his game and had dinner together. He was relaxed and seemed to enjoy himself.

Today, though, the Walker I knew from before sits across from me. Comfortable in his own skin, ready to flirt, even though he hasn’t said anything sexual other than the comment about having a Riley clone.

And for the record, I’d be totally jealous if he was touching another Riley, even if she was my clone.

“I’m a sure thing?”

Gah! That grin. Of course those are the words he takes away from my ramble. “You’re one of the best running backs in the NFL.”

The compliment puts strain on his grin, and his eyes lose that sparkle. “Right.”

Shit. I did it again. It’s déja vù from the last time he stopped by. I said something that he took as an insult. He starts to stand but I jump out of my seat and round my desk and step in front of him. Our knees bump and I take a small step back, sitting on the edge of my desk.

Too afraid to dig deeper into how I insulted him by complimenting him on his athleticism, I take the safer route. The chicken shit route.

“I’d love your help. Thank you. It means a lot that you’d offer, especially because you’re so busy right now too.”

That earns me a slight smile, but the light in his eyes has dimmed. Walker slowly rises to his feet, closing the distance between us.

“I told myself I’d be patient. Jackson said you don’t like to be chased, but we both keep dancing around this...thing between us.”

“You talked to Jackson about me?” I don’t know why that has me so surprised. Maybe because he’s the worst at keeping secrets, and I’ve always been the one he talks to. I should be jealous he’s keeping things from me, but I’m moved by his budding relationship with Walker.

Walker needs a brother more than I need to know every conversation Jackson has.

“I did.” He pulls at one of the strings on my hoodie and quickly releases it. “It shouldn’t be a surprise, because I told you this on the Fourth of July. I want you back, Riley. Actually. No.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

My breath catches in my throat. He doesn’t want me anymore? Oh, God. I don’t think my heart can handle this right now. Or ever.

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