The Friend Zone (Game On, #2)(29)
“Hey there, sexy,” Thing One says.
“We’ve missed seeing you around,” Thing Two adds, running her fingers through his hair.
Okay, I need to calm down. I glance at Anna, who looks ready to flip the table. Drew pulls a girl off him and sets her away. “I’m taken,” he tells the girl. “Very.”
She pouts but saunters off to join her friend on Diaz’s lap. Drew pulls Anna close, murmuring something in her ear that makes her smile and rest her head on his shoulder. Envy hits me, not of their love, but of Anna’s smile and obvious relief.
Across from me, Gray catches my eye, and I struggle to give him an amused look. As if I don’t care. I shouldn’t; I know this is part of his life, of who he is, and I need to see it, not live in denial. But maybe I fail at my charade because Gray winces, clearly embarrassed. And he edges back from their stroking hands.
“Ladies.” He forces a smile. “We’re kind of in the middle of a conversation.”
Everyone at the table seems to freeze for a millisecond, as if Gray’s statement has sent a shockwave over them. Then it’s back to the guys groping the women and looking far from interested in continuing any conversations.
As for his new friends, I have to give them credit; they’ve perfected the art of glaring with absolute disdain. A glare that’s focused on me. Both of them quickly turn their attention back to Gray.
“But me and Angie have a bet,” says the girl with a tramp stamp peeking out from her low-rise jeans. “We want to see which one of us you make come first.”
“Mmm,” Angie coos, pressing her breasts against Gray’s arm. “You were so good at getting me off. Alyssa wants a try. And I know you’d be game.”
And I’m done.
Beneath the table, a slim hand wraps around mine. I glance at Anna, both surprised and warmly comforted by her silent support. She gives my hand a squeeze but doesn’t look my way. Instead, she stands.
“Drew and I are headed out.”
Drew immediately rises, pulling out his wallet and tossing a few bills on the table.
Anna turns to me. “You want a ride, Ivy? Or—”
“A ride would be great, thanks.” I force another smile and make to grab my purse.
But Gray stands, upending the girls from his lap. Like cats, however, they manage to land on their feet. He ignores their yelps of protests. His blue gaze is serious and apologetic. “I said I’d take you home.”
That he’s being considerate has a small smile pulling at my lips, despite the growing tightness at the center of my chest. “That’s okay. You don’t need to leave.”
The scrutiny of his friends burns; I know they’re all watching, soaking in this little scene. It’s awkward, and I just want to go.
Angie rubs her hand up and down Gray’s arm. “Let her leave, Gray.” Her sly gaze travels slowly up my body, and her nose wrinkles. “She’s obviously big enough to take care of herself.”
Her friend snorts, making a false show of trying to hide it. “I think she’s part of the team, Ang.”
Nope, but I’m definitely big enough to squash you two like f*cking bugs under my heel. I’m about to tell them as much when Gray glares at them. He catches hold of Angie’s wrist and moves her away from him.
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Not when you’ve insulted my friend.” He gives her another assessing look. “Not ever, in fact.”
Her mouth falls open, but he isn’t paying attention. Gray grabs his coat from the hook behind him and brushes past the two girls. Ignoring the looks of his friends, and the pouting protests of Thing One and Two, Gray takes my hand in his. “Come on, Mac, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
I don’t point out that we’re in a restaurant or that we devoured wings an hour ago, but let him lead me away.
* * *
As soon as we get home, I go to my room, put on my PJs, and scrub my face clean. I might like to dress up now and then, but I’d rather be comfortable. And it’s just Gray with me now.
He’s heating up leftover white-bean soup when I return. Gray had brought the soup over earlier. It’s no secret that he loves cooking, and he’s really good at it. Apparently, his mom taught him, and he’d been the one to cook for his family when she was sick.
His big body moves with ease around the kitchen. He’s taken off his sweater, and his thin, ratty T-shirt drapes over his tightly toned torso like a caress. For a moment, I envy that shirt, the way it slides over his skin when he reaches for the bowls.
My gaze moves to his firm ass encased in old jeans. I’m pretty sure his butt should be cast in bronze and immortalized for posterity. Or maybe all of him. It’s like Thor’s landed in my kitchen and taken over late-night supper. Suppressing a snicker, I join him.
Gray turns, and his gaze slides over me. “Wonder Woman PJs. Excellent.”
“Just be glad I wore a bra.” I grab the spoons.
Gray halts mid-stride and utters a small groan. “Is there any chance you’d take your bra off now?” The tip of his tongue flicks out to touch his bottom lip. “Because that would so make my night, Special Sauce.”
His teasing shouldn’t send a pulse of heat between my legs. But it does. And I’m thankful that I’m wearing a bra now. Otherwise, I’m fairly certain my nipples would be saluting him.