The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

Lifting my finger from the shelf, it comes up clean. Not one speck of dust. I hate it here already.

“Okay, no friends.” I hold my hands out in defense. “No friends. No food. No fun. Got it.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t want you here. I didn’t ask for you to move in, and the only reason you’re here is because you’re my sister’s friend and I’m the reason she doesn’t have very many. I like my space, and if it were my choice, I’d be living alone. So, no, Indiana, we’re not going to be friends. We’re going to coexist in the same apartment until you can find yourself a different situation while I fulfill my brotherly duty.”

Oh what a DICK

Happy you’re here. That’s a lie. I’m not.

Lololol

I walked into my apartment and realized my mistake. They were right—she’s stunning, and I hate it.

I’m not easily distracted, but if I could manifest my perfect distraction, it’d look a lot like her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she spits. “You’re a monster. And reorganize your goddamn bookshelf. Author’s last name? You’re sick.”

Well, at least that’ll keep you from wanting to sleep with him! When did I say that? I’m a romance reader. I have a thing for assholes.

“We aren’t into bras?” “We? I personally don’t love wearing one with my pajamas, but you do you.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Judgment free zone.”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of his lip, but I don’t get my hopes up for a genuine grin. I’ve quickly learned that Ryan Shay finds me neither funny nor charming.

“Yeah, that’s not me. I’m just like every other chick. As basic as they come. I had an Uggs phase. I had a skinny jeans phase. I like my books with romance, my coffee with more creamer than caffeine, and I even take aesthetic pictures of my food anytime I’m at a restaurant.”

“I love flowers. I could get you some. Or a plant. Maybe you’ll feel more masculine with a plant. Something that will thrive in the bitter coldness of your personality.”

Lolol

You need to move on. He doesn’t deserve shit from you, including your tears.”

“Sure thing. I’ll stop with the nickname, Blue.”

Adorable. I hope he never calls her Indy.

He takes my now room temperature coffee and pours a bit in the sink before turning back to the fridge and filling my mug with ice. Pulling a small carton of milk from the refrigerator, he sets them both down in front of me.

Omg TEARS

I knew fertility treatments were expensive, and I was aware that they were most likely in my future. What I hadn’t planned was that I would be paying out of pocket to get my eggs frozen at age twenty-seven after my life-long love and who I thought was going to be the father of my children decided to sleep with someone else.

Diminished Ovarian Reserve—such a formal phrase to say my ovaries are aging more rapidly than the rest of my body.

Ouch

Blue’s temporary leasing agreement

Please always call her Blue

He leans in closer across the island as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. “Are you asking where I fuck, Blue?”

Hello

Four plates, four sets of silverware, four bowls. Organized to the point of insanity. Is it self-control to live as precisely as Ryan does or is it a form of self-punishment?

“I texted you when I got back. I texted all of you.”

Oh terrible friends

“Can’t you forgive him? I want everything to go back to how it used to be. All of us spending time together.” “What?” I force out a laugh. “Maggie, he slept with someone else in our bed.” And he’s never once asked for forgiveness, let alone apologized. “He made a mistake.”

WTF

Right there, on the wall opposite me is the most beautiful bed I’ve ever seen. Cloud-like pillows and a white comforter create a vortex I want to fall into and never get out. Luxurious and expensive with a bit of texture on the duvet. It’s stunning and it’s new with no taint of my previous life or relationship. It’s mine. And it’s from Ryan.

SHUT UP

A pop of lavender peeks out from under the pile of pillows. New sheets in my favorite color, and I don’t know how to process how I feel about him remembering that.

SCREAMING

How much did it hurt to buy something that wasn’t black or white? Almost killed me. Is this your love language? Gift-giving? Nothing about this situation has to do with love, Blue. You needed a bed. Don’t think too much into it.

Sure, he didn’t realize that I was wide awake most of the night wondering why my new roommate wasn’t home yet, but I was.

Oops

“Stop looking at her,” I warn. “Go hit the showers or get to the airport or just about anything other than look at her. She’s not available.” “So, you are hitting that.” Dom nods in approval. “No, I’m not hitting that. And neither are any of you. Stop looking at her or she’ll be the last thing you ever fucking see.”

Heehee

“The key you made me didn’t work. I went to buy curtains and when I got back, I couldn’t get inside.” “You’re sure?” I take the key from her. “Positive.”

Suspicious

She nuzzles her head on my un-iced shoulder, looking up at me with a wink. I’m going to kill her.

Adorable

“Go get me your key so I can go crash in my new expensive bed.” “What an amazing guy to buy you a bed. Probably makes you want to return a favor. He seems like a wonderful person.” Indy rolls her eyes. “He’s on my shit list at the moment.”

At 6’3” I’m tall in the real world, but when it comes to the NBA, I’m one of the smaller guys in the league.

Practically a child

“I’m not some blonde Barbie without a brain.” “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to. The dumbfounded look plastered on your face said it for you. Most people think so, and apparently you do too.”

I get it. I can read between the lines. The asshole she lived with before didn’t offer to take care of them while she was traveling for work so she couldn’t have any.

“Hug me back, Ryan,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

Aww

“You’re awfully cheery for someone who claims not to be a morning person.” “Well, if I let a bad mood take over every time you annoy me in the morning, I’m never going to be happy again.”

“Good. Let him think we’re together. Fuck that guy.”

“Take the night off work. Be my date to the fall banquet, and I’ll be your date to the wedding. Try your best to fake it. That way this arrangement is mutually beneficial. If your little shithead ex is taking a date, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go alone.”

“But we need some ground rules.” “Like?” “Like what we’re going to do once you inevitably fall for me. Do I let you down easy or do I exploit all the newfound emotions you’re going to feel once you realize you’re in love with me?”

Oh he is so falling hard for her

“Do you like your makeup? Did you spend time on it?” She keeps her stare on my tie and not on me. “Yes.” “Exactly. So, I think you should know you did a good job on it.”

Rounding the car to Indy’s side, I stop the doorman when his hand finds the handle. “I’ve got it.”

Because with how perfect she looks tonight, no one is going to believe she’s mine.

Kai Rhodes is a good guy and one hell of a baseball player. Starting pitcher for the Windy City Warriors, Kai signed one of the biggest contracts in MLB history last season when his free agency brought him to Chicago. We share the same agent who got him set up with an apartment in my building, and I can’t explain exactly why I like him so much, but I do.

I said I liked him, but if he doesn’t take his eyes off her soon, I have no issue retracting my statement.

At this moment, I’m realizing how much I don’t know about this woman and how much I wish I did.

I like company, crave connection. I truly am a social butterfly, but that’s mostly because I’ve never been on my own and at twenty-seven, I’m afraid to learn that I don’t know how.

Ok so this'll be the breakup. Shes going to leave to figure how to be on her own.

He’s stunning and causes a blush to creep up my cheeks when his lips tilt in a small smile before returning his attention to the crowd in front of him, as if he simply needed to check on my whereabouts before continuing with his evening.

“This one is on me,” he says to Stevie, with a grin that can only be described as “panty-melting.” A tattooed hand slides around Stevie’s waist from behind. “Absolutely not.” Zanders’ venomous glare is focused on the soon-to-be dead bartender. “Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

Lololol

Ryan’s hands slide again, his palms now living on my upper thighs with authority. I should look around and find Ron Morgan, reassuring myself this is all an act, but there’s the romantic part of me that wants to continue living in the fantasy, even if it is a lie.

“Don’t.” Ryan sits forward. “Don’t you dare cry.” I suck in a breath, shaking my head and stopping any emotions before they really start. “Sorry. We’re at your work event.” “Indy.” Both his large hands cup my face. “I don’t give a fuck where we are. You could cry all you want at this fundraiser. You could scream, laugh, throw a temper tantrum in front of these people for all I care. I don’t give a fuck, but you’re not crying over him, here or anywhere else.”

Why else would I buy her a bed to sleep in and add vegetarian substitutes to my order every time I get groceries delivered?

This man.