Fighting for What's His (Warrior Fight Club 2)

So much for changing the topic, because she heard what he didn’t say. That his mom had come to help him as he recovered…for a few months. Just how bad had his injuries been? “If you cook this good, she must be amazing.”

It was his first genuine smile since their unfortunate reunion upstairs, and man, was it a stunner. “She is,” he said. “Could whip up a fantastic meal and whip me into shape with one hand tied behind her back.”

The affection in his voice was utterly charming. “That’s impressive,” Shay said with a chuckle.

He smirked. “It really is because I was a fucking handful when I was growing up.”

Shayna grinned. “Oh, so you’re not a handful anymore?”

He gave her the strangest look, and then burst into a speechless guffaw.

Heat absolutely flooded Shay’s face. Oh. My. God. Did she seriously just ask him if he was a handful? “That’s…that’s not what I meant!”

Grinning like a shithead, he turned the blender on high

. One hand on his hip and the other on the blender, he yelled, “What? I can’t hear you!”

“You are a total ballbag, Billy Parrish!” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Even though she knew she totally deserved whatever shit he gave her, because she’d walked right into that. Mostly she didn’t really mind, since it seemed to have chased away the tension that her earlier question had caused.

And playful Billy was a thing to behold.

He hit the stop button on the blender. “What did you call me?” he asked, amusement still plain in his voice.

“A ballbag.” She gave him a challenging look.

He snickered. “How am I the scrotum? You’re the one—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, feigning indignance. “Obviously you answered the question about whether you’ve grown up. In the negative.”

“You can’t lob a man a softball and not expect him to swing for the fence. Or at least want to…” His mood seemed much lighter as he finished the dough, divided it into two balls, and spread it out on two pizza pans. Then he made quick work of cleaning up after himself, leaving his workspace nearly spotless. Meanwhile, part of the reason Shayna disliked cooking was because she made such a mess. “Now for the fun part. What do you want on it?”

“Surprise me,” she said. “I like almost everything.”

“Mmm, an adventurous girl, I see,” he said, gathering the mozzarella, pepperoni, and a few vegetables from the fridge.

Shayna couldn’t resist giving him a hard time, just to try to make him laugh again. “Woman.”

“What?”

“I’m twenty-six, after all. An adventurous woman,” she said, arching a single, teasing brow.

But laughter was decidedly not his reaction. His gaze flashed suddenly and tantalizingly hot, and he gave her body a slow once-over before his eyes met hers again. Shayna felt his perusal as if it had been a physical caress. Heat bloomed over her. Was he seeing her as she was, standing there in leggings and a sweater? Or was he seeing her as she’d been earlier, completely naked, flushed from her shower, and pressed up against a door?

Because it sure as heck didn’t seem like he saw her as the girl whose teenage infatuation had often left her hanging on his every word. And she wasn’t at all sure what to do with the possibility that her unattainable teenage crush…might find her attractive in return.

Or maybe she was reading too much into the whole thing.

He cleared his throat and returned to stand beside her. “Duly noted,” he said, an odd tone to his words that she didn’t know him well enough to understand. Minutes stretched out as he chopped and diced the toppings.

In the wake of their exchange, her heart kicked up inside her chest, even as Billy busied his hands—and eyes—with sprinkling the mozzarella evenly over the pies. He wasn’t looking at her any longer, but she had the strangest sense of certainty that he was utterly aware of her where she stood beside him.

“These look really great, Billy,” she said, watching his big hands work. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, but I think I’m going to be really glad you did.”

He kept his eyes on the pizzas as he finished preparing them and finally slid them into the ovens. “Anything for Ryan’s kid sister,” he said, his tone much more reserved.

Oh. So that was how he saw her. All righty, then. What she’d thought she saw in his expression had been wishful thinking, after all.

Which was fine. Probably even for the best. Because Shay’s fresh start definitely didn’t include renewing her silly crush on her brother’s best friend.