The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

He lights my sister up like I’ve never seen before, allowing her to own who she is with confidence. Hard to hate the guy when he’s the best thing to happen to your favorite person.

“Well, currently I’m feeling amused.” “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.” I try

Yeah, I’d really love to be that guy right about now.

It’s not as alarming as I assumed it would be.

“Probably. Those are my I-don’t-take-shit shoes.”

“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.”

“You’re pretty…bold for someone who just got here yesterday and still hasn’t signed a lease. And you ask a lot of questions.” “You think I’m pretty?”

“You should never have to beg someone to be ready for a future,”

He smiles. Wide and perfect, not holding back. He’s even got dimples, lucky son of a bitch. “Sure thing. I’ll stop with the nickname, Blue.” “No. Absolutely not. It’s Indy, just Indy.”

“Cute.” I lean my cheek on my palm with a smile. “You keep saying that, Shay, and I might get a big head over here.”

Make him spend time with someone who isn’t a teammate or his sister. Maybe having someone normal around will give him a little hope in humanity.”

It’s decided. I’m going to bring some color into Ryan Shay’s life if it’s the last thing I do.

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. He doesn’t respond, so I double text because fuck it, I want to talk to him.

“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.”

What am I doing? I pulled her out of bed so I could get my apartment back to normal and here I am asking her to make more of a mess by offering to water her fucking flowers?

What she’s going through resonates with me, and if Indy having some flowers in my apartment will make her happy, well then, I guess I’m growing a green fucking thumb.

“Ryan!” She cocks her head in disappointment and the eye roll she gives me is pretty fucking adorable.

her stool next to me. “You’re serious about this.” “Deadly.”

“Fine. You do me a solid, I’ll do you one. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Yeah. When you pretend to get angry or act really turned on, can you darken your eyes?” “No, I can’t fucking darken my eyes. What the hell are you reading?”

“Indy-pendent Woman 101.” She raises a questioning brow.

“You can teach me how to be with someone, as long as I get to teach you how to be alone. Or at least how to put yourself first.”

“I hope you do,” she says softly. “You’d be good to someone. You’d make someone happy. I can tell.”

alive, but I think I watered them too much and drowned them. Then when I went down to the flower stand today to buy the same ones in hopes you wouldn’t notice, they didn’t have them. So I bought you some called Black-eyed Susan? Which is the weirdest fucking thing to call a flower.

“I asked, what do you think?” She holds her hands out, gesturing to herself. Jesus Christ, get it together. Nodding, I stand from the couch, smoothing out my suit. “You look lovely, Blue.”

“Exactly. So, I think you should know you did a good job on it.”

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

“You know you can be yourself while doing this, right? You don’t have to be so poised and perfect. They’ll like you regardless.”

“I’m pretty sure he’d notice.” Zanders’ chest bubbles with an arrogant laugh while holding his phone out to me. Ryan Keep an eye on Indy for me. She has no clue that these guys are eye-fucking the hell out of her in that goddamn dress.

“I’m pretty sure your fake boyfriend wants to very real kill me.”

His previous hard glare is now soft as he looks at me, and the slight tilt at his lips is a sight I’ll never get sick of.

“No. That’s not how this is going to go. When you’re with me, I want you exactly as you are. That includes letting people know just how fucking smart you are. You’re not going to cater to anyone’s toxic masculinity bullshit. You’re not going to be quiet and appeasing when you’re with me. If Ron, or anyone else for that matter, has an issue with you being smarter than him, then we’re going to have a far bigger problem than him thinking I’m not a good leader.”

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.”

Florida. On the other hand, her mom is a petite woman, but that blonde hair and those warm brown eyes make me feel at home in the same way I do with her daughter who shares the same attributes.

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

quick, non-feminine laugh bubbles out of her. It’s lovely.

I want her here. I want her to want to be here. Fuck, when did that happen?

Zanders folds over his steering wheel in laughter. “Ryan, my guy, you’re so completely fucked, and you can’t even see it.”

“Blue, are you home?”

See you tomorrow? Is she out of her goddamn mind? In what world does she think I’m going to bed and will just see her tomorrow?

This is my version of her. The one where she’s comfortable and casual at home and I don’t want to share her.

“I’m…worried about you, Ind. I was worrying about you the whole game.”

She moves her shoulders, dancing around the island. “Ryan Shay cares about me!” “You’re annoying.”

“Good night, you weirdo. Oh, and by the way, the dinner with the Morgans tomorrow night is an hour outside of town and we’re spending the night. So, pack something to sleep in.”

“No. He got plenty of attention from other people. He didn’t need mine.”

shake my head, inhaling through my nose because well…I hate this guy. Indy would never question how magnetic, how distracting she is if she saw herself the way everyone in her orbit sees her. The way I see her.

“You can’t stop being who you are because someone else thinks it’s too much, Ind. He can go find less.”

Whether she believes it or not, Indigo Ivers is the type of woman you keep forever, and even though I can pretend to be her boyfriend, there’s no way in hell I could pretend that one night with her wouldn’t completely fuck me up.

I’ve always found Indy’s Converse random and a bit strange, but now I find myself wondering what I have to do to get myself added to them.

Cooties are not what I’m worried about. Indy loves to give me shit that I’m afraid of girls, but the truth is the only woman who has ever truly terrified me is her. Her intelligence, charisma, and sharp little attitude are the most frightening things about her, because I’ve never felt as weak as I do when I’m around her.