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First published by Kendall Ryan Books 2014
First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015
Copyright © Kendall Ryan 2014
Cover photograph © Stephen Carroll / Archangel Images
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Kendall Ryan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9781479318865
Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 9780008134013
Version 2015-04-13
No matter how you sliced it, being the third wheel sucked. I scooted to the opposite edge of the picnic blanket, eager to distance myself from Ashlyn and Aidenâs very public display of affection. I reached my limit when Aiden leaned over my friend and hand fed her a strawberry, kissing her lips as she chewed.
Gag me.
Theyâd been dating for a year now after meeting during an amnesia research study. Aiden was the patient and Ashlyn, as a fellow Ph.D. student, was studying him. It was considered risqué at the time, but Iâd come to accept that they were good together. That didnât mean that they werenât sometimes nauseating to be around. I put up with it because I loved Ashlyn like a sister, and she was happy. However that didnât mean I needed to be cock-blocked by them at every turn. And the cutie playing football in the park with his equally delicious friend was my next victim.
I threw a grape at Ashlyn to get her attention. She was somewhat distracted, with her tongue currently lodged inside Aidenâs mouth. The grape bounced off the back of her head and she turned to me, confused.
âHey, look at that fine piece of man meat. Two oâclock.â I tilted my head, motioning to her right.
Ashlyn snuck a glance and grinned. âThe blonde? Blue shorts?â
I nodded. He threw the football through the air in a perfect spiral and into the waiting hands of his friend.
âHe looks a little young,â she said.
I rolled my eyes. âHis friendâs not bad either. Both of them together might be fun.â
âJust be safe.â She shrugged and gave me a wink. âGo for it, babe. Weâll wait here.â
I hadnât even had time to think about my next move when the ball Mr. Adorable and his friend were throwing landed at my feet. This would be easier than I thought. Like taking candy from a baby.
I stood and brushed off my jeans, leaning over casually to retrieve the football. With it tucked against my hip, I sauntered toward them. They watched me approach. The friend was smiling, but Mr. Adorable was more guarded.
âI think you dropped this.â I tossed the ball into his capable hands. He caught it easily. Thanks to my older brother, I actually knew how to throw a football. I figured heâd invite me into their game, or make some suggestive comment about touching his ball, but instead he just smiled.
âThanks.â He turned and tossed the ball to his friend who was still watching me and missed the pass entirely.
Are. You. Kidding. Me?
Whatever. Rejected, I walked back to the picnic blanket and slumped down.
Ashlyn caught my mood and shifted closer to me, abandoning Aiden for the moment. âAre you seeing Professor Gibson tonight?â she asked, trying to draw me into a conversation. I appreciated her effort to distract me from that epic fail as well as keeping me from feeling like I was intruding on a private moment between them.
âNope. He has his son tonight. And call him StuââProfessor Gibsonâ is just creepy.â
âHave you met his son?â Aiden asked.
âDefinitely not. Weâre not dating. Weâre fucking,â I clarified.
âAll righty then,â Ashlyn laughed and shook her head. âYouâre more emotionally damaged than I ever realized.â
âIt works for me.â I shrugged. It was the simple truth. I wasnât looking for a relationship and Stu, whose divorce was still fresh, certainly wasnât either. It was the perfect arrangement. He was thirty-six, recently single with a four-year-old son, and a professor in the business college, so our paths didnât cross in the academic world. Which was good. It kept things from getting complicated. We had good sex. It was as simple as that. Iâd met him at a charity function the university sponsored and Iâd been seeing him a couple times a week for the last month. It was nice, regular sex with a nice, normal guy without any drama or expectations beyond enjoying the moment. Okay, so it was my twisted version of perfect, but I knew it was all I was prepared to handle at the moment.