Remember the plan. “Tell me more about yourself.”
He shrugged. “I have no idea what you want me to say.”
That was the thing about guys. They seemed to think that she had expectations that the truth—or just whatever random thought was floating through their heads—would shatter her. When all she really wanted was to hear what he was thinking. It didn’t have to be profound or dressed up for her benefit.
She hitched closer to him. “For example, tell me about your last date.”
“You want me to discuss another woman?”
Well. Apparently, his face could show emotion, because he looked vaguely horrified. Had the date gone that badly? Looking at him, she assumed his last evening out had ended in bed. She didn’t want a blow-by-blow account, but she did want to prove her point. She’d bet he hadn’t been looking for love then, just a good time. So why couldn’t he do the same thing here, with her?
“Details.” She leaned back on the mound of pillows and toed off her shoes. She was seriously out of shape if her feet hurt after a half-mile hike.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Only if you tell me about your last date.”
“Is this a game of you show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”
He gave her a slow smile. “Or, we could just play doctor.”
She made a face. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that one.”
“It doesn’t work?” He grinned at her, a real genuine smile splitting his handsome face, bringing it to life.
“I’m here and I’m single,” she pointed out. “You do the math, but you still get to tell your date story first.”
“I don’t date.”
Right. Pulling teeth here. “You’re telling me you’ve never gone out and had sex? That you’re a virgin?”
Because she so wasn’t buying that one. She might be sex-starved, but she wasn’t stupid.
He laughed. “The last time I hooked up was with a gal I met at a biker bar. There was nothing romantic about it. I bought her a beer. We danced a time or two. Then I gave her a ride on my bike, and we...”
He gestured with his hand and, oh boy, she got the idea. He’d taken his newfound friend outside and done her. On the bike, over the bike, near the bike—she should really find out.
“You like your bike.”
“You bet.” He watched her so intently, his eyes hooded. Did he expect her to run screaming? Things had been simpler when they were kissing. He couldn’t talk. She couldn’t think. It had been perfect and she needed to re-create that moment. Stat. Unfortunately, he was still talking. “Is this another fantasy of yours, hearing me talk about having sex with someone else?”
Dirty. Out of character for her. Either or both labels applied. It definitely was not the sort of conversation she’d ever had with Harlan or anyone else at the hospital, so she went for honesty. “Think of it as a preview of coming attractions.”
He smiled roguishly. “I can work with that.”
“But you need to know something, too. This isn’t me.”
* * *
THE DAYBED CURRENTLY hosting Gray’s ass looked like something straight out of a bridal magazine. It was romantic as hell and positioned for kisses at sunset or for wedding photography. Not that he had any idea how a bride would traipse up here in one of those big, puffy dresses his former teammates’ fiancées typically chose. The poor woman would get hung up on the palms and the vines.
The truth was, he sucked at dating. Threading his fingers through Laney’s, he tugged gently. She landed hard on his chest with an audible oomph and he grinned. She didn’t hold back.
“You feel plenty real to me,” he said. “Or was that you outing an alternate personality when you said this isn’t me? Because that could definitely be a deal killer.”
“This is a fantasy. A game. One night...no strings. In real life, I’m not that woman, no matter how much I’m going to enjoy being her for tonight.” She offered him a solemn smile.
“And what if I want more than one night?”
His voice sounded gruff, and he had no idea where those words had come from, because he’d just finished telling her that he wasn’t playing for keeps. He eyed her cautiously, wondering what it was about her that made him want to be different. Why wasn’t he halfway down the hill by now?
“I made a reservation. I’ve only got so many nights.”
“Then I want all of them.” Stupid. Because he couldn’t, shouldn’t make promises. It was easy to imagine her in a white coat, making rounds with cool competence, but raunchy sex with a virtual stranger? Yeah. That seemed like a harder sell, because she’d have to unbutton and strip down. Let him in. He brushed his thumb over her collarbone, because it was a pity to be this close to her and not touch her.