Bad Boy Ink (Get Ink'd #5) - Ali Lyda Page 0,46

stomach, trying to settle the interested butterflies fluttering inside.

He thought it would be without distraction? Did he not understand that he was the distraction?

I had to stop letting myself venture into fantasies, despite how easily they came. Bryce without his shirt. Me, on my knees in front of him. Me, kissing his flirtatious smirk right off his face. Gah! They muddied the waters in a way that felt too nebulous and inviting. Like I might actually enjoy myself with someone I was supposed to be rivals with.

But, oh, how delicious Thor fantasies were. Especially when Bryce’s smile and soft lips were the ones starring in them.

I needed to get away before I said or did something embarrassing.

“That works for me,” I mumbled. “Text me your address this week. I'll see you in class on Monday?” I cleared my throat, which was in danger of squeaking. I’d sounded completely preteen with a crush. Shit.

Bryce was staring at me. There was no flirtatious smile or wink or any of his normal silly responses. Bryce’s blue gaze was like a spear, punching through me, heat and intention driving home the idea that he was thinking the same inappropriate things I was. Picturing them as well.

I gulped, and Bryce gazed at the way my Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Sure, that sounds great. Until then,” he said before turning toward his car. I watched his broad back as he walked away, studying the way his T-shirt hugged the large muscles and tapered waist.

Sure was one of those words that held too many meanings, and now I’d be spending the time until then trying to decipher just what he’d meant by it.

And what I hoped he’d meant by it.

13

Bryce

“You don't have to stay at a friend's, grandma,” I said, despite holding her overnight bag for her. Secretly, I was thrilled that she was having an old lady sleepover. She had a great friend she'd made during her chemotherapy, and they often liked to spend the night with each other. Sometimes I wondered if there was more to it than friendship.

But she was happy, and I was going to have the house to myself, so what did it matter?

Grandma snorted and rolled her eyes. “Bryce, you think I don't know how long it's been since you've had a date? You need this.”

There was a ruffle in my chest like a bird launching into flight. it had been a whole week of barely being able to concentrate on my classes and work. A whole week of thinking of one thing: Aiden at my house. Now the time had arrived, and I felt like an awkward teenager waiting for his prom date.

“It's not a date,” I said, way too surly and unable to sound the least bit convincing.

She gave me a solemn nod though her mouth was quirked up at the corners. “And that's why you had me help you make my special chicken fried steak? For a not-date?”

She had me there. For starters, I rarely cooked. That, followed by the fact that her chicken fried steak was not only the best comfort meal of all time but also labor-intensive meant that I had spent the afternoon getting ready to feed Aiden and hope that it impressed him. She'd watched over my shoulder to make sure I got it right.

I gave her a helpless shrug. “Maybe I just had a craving for your home cooking.”

“Bullshit,” she mumbled. I stared at her and she shrugged.

“Why don't I drive you over to Miss Haley’s house?” I offered her my elbow. One day I’d ask about the full nature of that friendship, but not when I had Aiden and the clusterfuck of emotions that came with him in my near future.

“You trying to get rid of me already?” She teased, but shook her head. “I called an Uber. It’ll be here in five. You just worry about getting ready for your hot date. Who is he, anyway?”

“Just...someone from school.” It was too difficult to explain all the nuances of my relationship—if you could call it a relationship—with Aiden. “And really, we’re just working on a project. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything distract me from my dream, remember?”

She nodded, suddenly looking sage and serious. “Yes, you did. But I also want you to remember that there are all kinds of dreams to be had, Bryce. Not just the ones in the future. Sometimes there are dreams right in front of your face, waiting to trip you up and show you what you’ve been