Page 22 of Throwing the Curve

Peyton stood in front of the mirror and debated her outfit choice for the millionth time. Behind her, the bed was littered with discarded clothing. How could she have gone through her entire closest and still feel like nothing was right? Maybe putting shoes on would help her decide since currently her wide legged trousers were bunched at her ankles, making her feel like she was playing dress-up. She slid on a pair of heels and eyed her reflection again. Definitely better.

She smoothed her hand down the front of her satin tank, loving the way the material felt against her skin. Forget it. She was just going to wear this. Whether or not it was the right outfit choice who cared? At least it was light and cool and she wouldn’t be worried about being sweaty if the banquet hall was too warm. Pants was probably a terrible choice, but with the way she was feeling, she at least needed to be comfortable in her clothing since nothing else about the evening made her comfortable.

Tonight was her first official date as Ryan’s girlfriend. Fake as it might be, to the rest of the world, it was real. She placed a hand against her stomach. The thing was going nuts. She should take another swig of Pepto before Ryan got here.

She picked up the pink bottle from her dresser and drank it straight out of the container. A spoonful would not cut it when her stomach felt like it was being trampled on by a herd of elephants. Peyton closed her eyes and took a deep breath, desperately trying to remember what her best friend Rayne had told her so she could pull some kind of relaxation into her body. She exhaled hard. Clearly, this wasn’t working. So much for all the hours of yoga and meditation she had done over the years.

She opened her eyes. “Get it together, Peyton,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “It’s a fake date, not an execution.” She closed her eyes and drew in several more deep breaths. “You got this,” she whispered.

Opening her eyes, her gaze landed on her dresser and the necklace her grandmother had left her. Peyton put it on and instantly a feeling of calm swept through her. This was exactly what she needed. She could still remember the first time she’d worn it. Her grandmother had been wearing the necklace when she’d come over to see Peyton after her dad left. She’d been crying and her grandmother had taken off the necklace and put it around Peyton’s neck, telling her it would help her remember who she was and that she had strength she hadn’t even tapped into yet.

Well, she sure needed that tonight.

Her doorbell rang. Peyton grabbed her purse off the bed and made her way to the front door. She paused, took a breath, then pulled the door open. Holy cow, Ryan looked hot. She gripped the doorknob tighter. Obviously she’d noticed how attractive he was the other times she’d seen him, but man, he cleaned up nice. His blue tie stood out against his black shirt and made his eyes pop like he had colored contacts in.

“Hey.” Ryan smiled. His lips parted to show his white teeth.

My god, was anything on the man not freaking perfect?

“Hi,” she replied.

His gaze trailed down her body slowly, his nostrils flared slightly as he looked at her. “You look great.”

Her stomach fluttered at the compliment. Sheesh, she was being ridiculous. It was a simple compliment. She didn’t need to go all gaga over it.

“Thanks, so do you.” She grabbed her house keys from the bowl on the side table. “I’m ready if you are.”

Ryan’s deep chuckle drew her eyes. “What?”

“It’s a party, Peyton, not a funeral.”

“I know, I’m just not a very good liar, so this whole pretending we’re dating thing is a lot, you know.”

“I hear ya.” Ryan stepped forward into her space and she stepped back. “Well, first of all, you can’t be doing that if we want to convince people we actually like each other, let alone are dating.”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Cringe, when I get near you.”

“I didn’t cringe. I just stepped back to give you some space.” Unfortunately, he was way off base saying she cringed. Honestly, she wished that was the case, but she was attracted to him despite what a jerk he’d been to her.

“Yeah, well, if people are going to believe we’re a couple, we can’t be giving each other space.”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course we can give each other space.”

He stepped toward her again and she held her ground. Power radiated off his body as he filled her space. “If anyone is going to believe you’re mine, then I’m going to be touching you.”

“Even if we were dating Ryan, I’m still my own person. I don’t belong to anyone,” she said. Egotistical jerk. Women weren’t possessions.

“I know you’re your own person, Peyton,” he growled. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He stepped closer again, and she stepped away. Her back hit the wall, and he continued to move forward, crowding her against the wall. He pressed his body against hers, and she fought to swallow.

“Wha… what are you saying then?” she stammered.

He leaned down so his mouth was right against her ear. “I’m not a big PDA guy, but I’m not opposed to it.” His breath brushed against her neck and she shivered. “And Peyton, anyone who sees you in this outfit is going to expect me to have my hands on you at all times to stake my claim.” His hand brushed along her waist, his finger gliding against the silky fabric like a caress, making her nipples tighten. “Because honey, there’s no way if I was fucking you, I wouldn’t want every man in the room to know it.”

She bit back a moan. “Okay,” she sighed.

Ryan stood up straight. The lack of heat from his body was like a douse of cold water. When she looked at him, he smirked down at her. “You sure you don’t like the idea of someone claiming you, Peyton?”

---