Page 31 of Falling for Mr. Wright

Chapter Eight

Sarah swiped her peppermint lip balm across her lips for the umpteenth time while waiting in the hotel lobby for Ryan.

He’d met her downstairs minutes earlier, looking all sexyGQ-casual in his dark-brown jacket, black cable sweater, and beige pants, damn him. They’d traded awkward good-morning pleasantries before he’d rushed out to retrieve his car. A nice gesture since this morning’s temperature was more seasonable for December. Still, she couldn’t help but worry last night had unsettled him even more than she’d feared.

After replaying their kiss in her mind all night, each time just as good as the last, she decided to blame her recent dating dry spell. She’d missed the feel and taste of a man, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.

But this wasn’t just any man.

It was Ryan.

Her friend.

And, not to forget, the guy she’d asked for help to get the attention of his best friend.

What was I thinking? I’m the worst person on the planet.She plopped down on a nearby sofa and buried her head in her hands.

Maybe she should use the drive back home to work on her resignation letter.

“You okay?”

She looked up to see Ryan standing in front of her, concern in his eyes. “I’m fine. Couldn’t be better,” she blurted out and jumped up. “I’m ready to hit the road. Maybe do some carpool karaoke. Britney Spears, here I come. Let’s go!”

Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed by her incessant babble.Oh, Sarah. Just stop talking.

Ryan grabbed her suitcase. She followed him out the glass door to where his BMW was now parked and slid on her black sunglasses to avoid direct eye contact. How was she going to survive the next two hours? What should she say? Maybe she could pretend she was sleeping.

As they drove out of the parking lot, Ryan played with the heat vents. “Is it warm enough?”

“It’s fine, thank you.” Oh God. They were reduced to awkward small talk about the temperature in the car.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good,” she lied. “You?”

“Out like a light.”

Really?She searched his face for any sign that he was lying, too, but his relaxed expression gave nothing away. Was he not as preoccupied as she was by what had happened on the football field?

She’d barely slept a wink, replaying their kiss.

Heat crept up the inside of her turtleneck, and she pushed the car vent away from her. Their spontaneous make out had been hands down the hottest kiss of her life. However, when they went back into the gala, Ryan had acted like nothing significant had happened between them and, shortly after, drove them back to the hotel.

She’d wondered—okay, maybe hoped—that he’d kiss her good night, but he’d stopped at her room door, thanked her for joining him, and told her to sleep tight.

Yeah, right. As if that could’ve happened. There was no sleeping. Frustrated and confused, she’d flopped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling for hours, dissecting every minute of the evening leading up to their amazing kiss.

Sarah fiddled with the ring on her finger, not sure what to say. “Did you make it down to the breakfast buffet?”

“No. Are you hungry?” he asked. “We could stop somewhere if you’d like.”

And endure this painful conversation over pancakes?I don’t think so.“I’m good,” she said.

But after an hour of awkward small talk, she was far from good. There were too many what-ifs swamping her head for her to be good. Maybe she’d attacked his mouth, but Ryan was the one who’d initiated their kissing. Had he planned it?

Ryan pulled into a gas station and headed inside to grab snacks and pay.

Sarahthunked her head against the window. It didn’t matter if he’d planned to kiss her. Ryan Wright wasn’t looking for a relationship with anyone, despite his weird comment about being interested in someone like her. He’d made that point clear on several occasions.

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