"I didn't bring you here to flirt with her," Peter grumbled when Ryce returned to his side. Earlier that day, when Ryce had called to say he needed a break from his tour and would be flying into town, Peter had been excited to see his friend. Ryce hadn't been to Austin in well over a year, so their group of friends missed him.
One friend in particular had missed him a little too much, it seemed.
"Are you kidding me?" Ryce asked in disbelief. "I'm not doing anything I haven't done before."
True. But before, Emille hadn't been a hottie. Before, Ryce hadn't let his eyes linger on Emille's assets. Ryce could have his pick of any woman in the world, but he was sweet talking Emille as though she was the love of his life.
Peter was not impressed.
While they had waited for her to finish her workout, he'd had to endure Ryce's repeated comments about Emille's amazing transformation. She still hadn't purchased a new set of workout clothes, but connoisseurs like Ryce would have no trouble seeing what was beneath the layers. Especially since Emille was wearing an old t-shirt that she had ripped the sleeves out of. An old t-shirt from the days when Ryce had gone by the name Caleb. Now, he used his full name. It was all Peter had been able to do to stop his friend from upsetting Emille's workout. The minute she'd finished her last count, Ryce had gone walking.
"Just, don't lead her on like that," he warned. "Em's not some groupie."
"Don't I know it," Ryce said with a lecherous smile. "She's my special girl."
Choosing to ignore the fact that all of Ryce's smiles were lecherous, Peter started his box jumps. His friend was able to simply stand there and look fit. Peter had to do all sorts of strength training exercises in order to maintain enough muscle mass to be comparable to Ryce. Even then, he'd only ended up looking leaner and more ripped instead of built like his buddy. Ryce was Emille's type. Until that moment, Peter had never resented his own physique more.
When Peter's expression smoothed out, Ryce - who had started a set of power cleans to kill time - stopped after the third one. He gave Peter a through look, his eyes narrowing. "Hey," he said after a while, "there's nothing going on between you and Emille, is there?"
The glance Peter racked him with was scathing.
Shrugging back into his leather jacket, Ryce decided to let Peter work. His silence lasted about ten minutes. He was completely incapable of ignoring something like this. "Seriously, man," he said at last. "Is there something going on between you and Em?"
"No."
One word. And Peter didn’t sound too happy about that. "Do you want something to go on between you two?" Ryce asked slowly.
"There's nothing there to go on," Peter announced, his brow jerking in annoyance.
Ryce snorted. "Come on, man. This is me you're talking to. I remember when you had the hots for her. She's starting to look like that girl again." He thought about it a moment. "She looks better, in fact. Something you were quick to tell me as soon as I got into town tonight."
Silence.
"You getting feelings for her again?" he pressed. "Or are you realizing your feelings never really left?"
"You going to shut up and let me finish what I'm doin'?"
"Good," Ryce laughed, strategically distancing himself from Peter. The man was wiry as fu-. Well, he was wiry, but Ryce had worked out with Peter often enough over the years to know that those compact muscles packed both strength and stamina. If Peter suddenly decided to lay him flat, flat he'd be. "If there's nothing going on between you, then you won't mind if I take her out sometime."
Peter stopped jumping. With his hands on his hips, he turned his full attention on Ryce. "Leave Emille alone, Ryce. She's not some groupie. She's a good friend who's just getting her life in order. The last thing she needs is you coming in here overnight and flirting with her before you fly out again on a dime. Em's not the kind of woman you do that to. You start flirting with her, she's going to start believing that you're really interested. But, we all know the kind of women you really like. To you, Em's just a safe flirt. There's no threat there for you. But if you mess with her right now, all you're going to do is end up hurting her. She doesn't need that right now. So, I say it again for the last time. Leave. Emille. Alone."
While he listened to Peter tell him all the reasons why he shouldn't flirt with Emille, Ryce looked down at his feet considering. He had worked hard to cultivate his reputation as a ladies' man. It came with his job. But to hear his best friend say he wasn't good enough for a woman like Emille… that hurt. Every where he turned, he was learning how easy it is to hurt somebody you cared about.
"Don't you think she'd find it strange if I didn't flirt with her?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," a soft voice answered.
Ryce looked up, but Peter stood arrested staring into the mirror - a hard look coming over his face.
"Yes," Emille said again softly. "I'd find it strange if you stopped flirting with me." She came over to the bench on which Ryce was seated and tugged him up. "Now, give me my kiss and make it good. I put on perfume for you."
Ryce saw the devil in her eyes just a split second before her lips were pressed against his. She wanted a kiss like the ones he gave out on stage. The kind of kiss that made him famous. So, he gave it to her, wrapping his arms around her body, and tilting her backward. He'd thought for sure Emille would change her mind once he went full tongue on her, but she surprised him. She was doing this because she'd heard their conversation, and he didn't want her feeling like anything less than a desirable woman. So, Ryce did what any good friend would do. He made sure, in that kiss, that Emille knew she was one of the best things that ever happened to him.
Finally he lifted her back upright, planted a kiss on her cheek, and squeezed her with all the love and affection of their longstanding friendship. He credited Emille with his success. It was her who had suggested he kill Caleb, and just exist as Caleb Ryce. That night, ten years ago had been a turning point for him. This was his girl. More Peter's than anyone else's, but his nonetheless… Together, they turned to Peter, but he was no longer standing there.
"Where'd my ride go?" Ryce quipped, hoping to avoid an awkward situation.
"Shower," Emille said, covering her lips with the back of her hand. Forcibly, her expression brightened. "Hey, did you guys have any plans for tonight?" It was Monday. The Mark was closed.
"Yeah," Ryce answered. "That's why we came to get you. David's driving up from San Antonio. We were planning on hitting Nate's place tonight."
"Open mic?"
A slow smile touched his lips. "Now, why else would I come to Austin?"