Unfriending the Dr: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Romance

I handed it over and waited, impatiently.

“Okay.” Megan looked up with a devious smile. “Let’s see what you’re going to wear for Ryan. Tonight.”

“Tonight? No, not tonight. Today is just for picking out something to wear.”

“Is it? Because I just texted and told him that Megan has agreed to watch Titus for tonight, so show up at eight and not to knock.” Her expression held zero apology and despite the pit that had recently formed in my gut, I couldn’t be mad.

“You didn’t.”

“I did. So, tell me which one you like best.” Megan pointed to the three sets of silk and lace. Forest green. Magenta. And lavender.

I pointed to the lavender. “The merry widow is crazy sexy, don’t you think?”

“Hell yeah, and I think you can pull it off.”

“Me? The single mother who still has ten pounds of baby weight to lose? Are you sure, Megs?”

She nodded in an exaggerated fashion but her expression was fierce. “I’m positive. You see ten extra pounds, but I see the perfect curves—and that’s what Ryan will see, too. Trust me.”

“I do.” It was a really sexy set and I knew it would give me the confidence I needed to get through tonight without throwing up. “Teddy said I should feed him, too.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have Antonio make something that reheats easily.” She produced her own phone, wiggling her eyebrows as she fired off a quick text message. “Everything is taken care of; all you have to do is pamper and primp. I’ll pick Titus up from school.”

“What if this is a giant mistake?”

Megan nodded and gave my question genuine consideration. “What if it’s not?”

Those four words echoed in my mind for the rest of the day while I removed all unwanted hair from my body, curled my hair, put on way too much makeup, and pretended I wasn’t going to seduce my best friend when Antonio showed up with a short rib lasagna and a knowing look on his face.

What if it’s not?

What the hell did that even mean? This was sex, pure and simple.

Nothing more.

Even if it felt like it.

It wasn’t. I needed to remember that.

“Persephone!”

Ryan’s deep voice pulled me out of my unnecessary musings and brought me back to the present. There was no point in analyzing what this meant because it meant sex. Physical release. Satisfaction between friends.

“Up here,” I called to him and scrambled to find a sexy position to welcome him.

The bed felt too on the nose.

Standing with my hands on my hips felt too obvious.

And then my bedroom door filled with a gorgeous man, looking hot as hell in a plain white T-shirt that showed off corded biceps and sculpted pecks, and hid what I already knew were washboard abs. The worn blue denim hung low on his hips, hugging his thighs just tight enough to make my mouth water. But the heat in his blue gaze was so hot, I pressed my knees together until they ached.

“Persephone,” he growled. “Holy shit.”

His words helped me to relax, but only a little. This was Ryan. I could do this. I put a hand to my hip and cocked it out to the side. “You like?”

He shook his head. “Hell no. I love it. You look hot as fuck, Persephone.”

The way he said my name had always made me feel special, but with the air crackling between us, it made me feel sexy. Desirable. “Thanks.”

Ryan took a step closer and then another until both hands, hot and a little roughened, rested low on my hips. “Thank you. This is the best eye candy I’ve had in three long months.” His fingertips brushed up my arms until I shivered.

I laughed and he leaned in to brush a kiss across my collarbone.

Another shiver.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” I moaned. “Hell yes.”

“Good.” Ryan stripped down until he was in nothing but a pair of light blue boxers that made his eyes seem bluer and his muscles seem, I don’t know, sexier, maybe. “Don’t move a fucking muscle,” he growled and the sound hit me low in the belly.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll take my time.”

My brows dipped. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

I wanted us both to take our time, to savor this last night in each other’s arms. With him buried deep inside me.

A slow, seductive smile crossed his face. “As you wish.”

Then, his mouth was on mine, a slow burn of a kiss that went on for an eternity without any tongue, hardly any touching. It was chaste by any measure, but my skin overheated, my pulse slammed into my skin, and I felt my clit spark to life.

My tongue slid out and traced the line of his lips, caressed the seam of his mouth, and slid inside. Ryan opened up but kept his hands on my hips. He didn’t squeeze or knead or grip, just held on. Gently. I pulled back with a confused expression. “You want this too, don’t you?”