The Friend Zone (Game On 2)

Gray waggles his brows. “Pretty sweet, huh? I think there’s a voucher for a year’s worth of steaks.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t cry.”

“I might have shed a tear or two.” Gray pushes up the hem of the T-shirt I’m wearing and rests his head on my bare thigh. With a little hum of pleasure, he strokes my leg, his expression content, his body loose-limbed and lazy. Give the man a blow job and a little unexpected ass play, and he’s practically purring. There’s probably a lesson in that, only I’m equally susceptible. Gray merely has to look at me a certain way, and I’m ready to offer him anything.

“Ivy?”

“Yeah? Ooh, look, wireless headphones. I’ve been wanting a pair of these.”

“They’re yours.” His hand moves along my calf, the touch soft, steady. “When I told Drew about you being pregnant, I realized that I wasn’t afraid. That the idea of having a baby with you was kind of great.”

My heart seizes.

Clearly, he feels me stiffen because his grip tightens on my shin. “I’m not trying to push you,” he says. “But you asked me once what I wanted.” The bed creaks as he rises up on his elbow. Gray’s blue eyes are earnest yet almost shy. “I want it all with you.”

Warmth flutters through my chest as I look down at him. Gently, I brush back a lock of his hair. “I thought you might.”

His gaze moves over my face as though he’s trying to read my mind. “But do you?”

Running my fingers through his hair, I stare off. “When I think of this baby as you and me, I want to protect it with all that I am.”

Gray gives my leg a gentle squeeze, but I keep talking.

“But when I think of trying to be a mother right now…” I trail off with a strangled breath. “I mean, a baby—a child—needs constant care. I can’t do that on my own. I don’t want to do that.”

Gray’s brows snap together. “Who said anything about being on your own? We’re in this together. One hundred percent.”

“Gray, you’re going to be starting the NFL. July through January, they’ll basically own your ass.”

“Okay, yeah, that will suck.” Gray sighs and rests his forehead on my thigh again. “But we can work it out. And never think for a second that I won’t be all in when I am there.” His big body flops back onto the bed, and he blinks up at the ceiling. “Shit, I don’t know. Maybe we should wait.”

I lie back too, my head next to his. “Only I’m pregnant now. When I think of ending it, I just can’t.” With a muttered curse, I press my forearm over my eyes. “Why is it so hard, Gray?”

Gray rolls to his side and lifts my arm off my face. “I wish I had the right answer,” he says slowly. “All I can say is that the hardest decisions in life are often over the things that mean the most. So what means the most to you, Ivy?”

“You. Being together.”

His expression turns tender. “And what do you fear the most?”

“Making the wrong choice.”

“Then make the choice that scares you the most.”

Cupping his strong cheek, I peer up at him. “You never let anything stop you, do you?”

“Not for long, Ivy Mac.” His large frame moves over me until I’m surrounded by him. “It’s my nature to work past obstacles.” His lips skim up my neck, nipping and tasting as they go. “And look what I have to show for it. Top of my sport and, in my bed, the woman I love more than anything.”

“Our bed,” I correct, pulling him down to me. His hard body presses against mine, and everything kind of short-circuits. He feels so good, all satin-smooth skin and hot, hard muscle. I need him again. Now. Thick and slow within me. In a haze, I think about luck and how mine had always seemed slightly off. I think about how happy I am in this moment with Gray, knowing that he’s mine. That we could actually be a little family. And I feel afraid. Maybe a little fear is a good thing.

Thirty-One

Ivy

Game day. Gray comes out of the bedroom, and it’s all I can do not to swallow my tongue. All the guys wear suits to the stadium, but I wasn’t expecting Gray to look so hot in one. Dressed in a charcoal pinstripe, three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and an ice blue tie, he’s long and lean and gorgeous. Like my own extra-tall James Bond.

I bite my lip and resist the urge to strip him. Unfortunately there isn’t time because he’s expected downstairs in about five minutes.

He gives me a searching look and an uncomfortable laugh. “Why are you staring at me like that? Shit.” He shifts his feet. “I look like an asshole, don’t I?”

Shaking my head, I walk over to him. Or rather, I stalk him, because I still want a bite. His smile is lopsided when I stop before him.

“Damn,” I say on a sigh. “You are fine in this suit.” I smooth my hand down one silky lapel and press into the solid wall of muscle hiding beneath it.

Gray grunts as if I’m talking crazy, but he blushes as his hands settle on my hips. “Want to play dress-up later?”

“Yeah.” Gently, I run my knuckle down his stomach, stopping at his belt buckle, loving the way he sucks in a breath and nudges forward with his hips as if to urge me lower. I glide my knuckle back and forth along his waistband. “We can play interrogate the spy.”

Gray lowers his head and nips my earlobe. “You gonna be a spy, Mac?”

“No. You are. I’ll tie you to a chair and do dirty things to make you talk.”