He said it with such confidence that for a split second Alexis stopped to wonder if he was telling the truth. But wasn’t that the problem? She always thought they were being truthful until that terrible moment when she discovered otherwise. She was done with being played. “You can drop the act, buddy. I’m not interested in the game. I mean, I’m down for a little fun, but I don’t need the white lies to smooth the way.”
Layton frowned, shaking his head with faint irritation. “Boy, Erik wasn’t wrong. You must’ve been screwed over big-time to be so jaded at such a young age. So, for the sake of every other man that happens to cross your path, why don’t you tell me what happened with this other dude so I can assure you that not every guy is like that.”
He wanted to listen? Alexis covered her surprise with an airy laugh. His comment hit too close to home for comfort. Riker’s betrayal still stung. But she didn’t feel like opening up her chest and revealing her broken heart to a complete stranger. Sex was one thing—being vulnerable was another.
“Okay, Mr. Wonderful...why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Layton leaned forward to put his plate on the coffee table. “Guess I’m taking a break from it all.”
“What do you mean?”
“The dating thing. I’m over it.”
She handed him her plate and he set it on top of his. “Explain.”
Layton shook his head with a small smile and then went to gently lift the ice pack from her foot. “I’m tired of the game. First dates, the obligatory small talk, the uncertainty of the outcome...it’s all one colossal drag on my time. I’d rather spend it hiking or riding my bike than sitting across the table from someone I just met to try to make some kind of connection. I don’t know...just not into it right now.”
Alexis laughed. “Okay, so it seems I’m not the only one who’s been burned in the past.”
“Touché.”
“What was her name?”
“What was his?”
“Riker.”
Layton did a double take. “Riker?” he repeated with a fair amount of incredulity. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Anyone name Riker is bound to be trouble.”
She couldn’t argue that point. “He was hot.”
“So was she.”
Alexis laughed, strangely enjoying the way they both flirted around the edges of something personally painful without poking too hard for the other’s comfort. If she were being truthful, she was terribly curious about the woman who’d been stupid enough to break this man’s heart.
If she were smart, she’d keep everything surface level.
But then if she were smart, she wouldn’t be in this position anyway, so why start now?
THAT SASS WAS ADDICTIVE.
Alexis was a ball of contradictions. Hot and spirited and yet, beneath all that burning sex appeal was a girl who’d obviously been hurt enough to withdraw from anything or anyone who might be able to hurt her again.
He could understand Erik wanting to punch the last boyfriend’s lights out, because he was feeling a little punchy himself and he had no reason to.
But turnabout was fair play so he let loose with a little intel. “All right...you shared, so I’ll give you something in return. Her name was Julianne. Jules for short.”
Alexis snapped her fingers with a definitive shake of her head. “Yep. Gotta steer clear of anyone named Jules—immediate problem.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. You should also avoid anyone named Tiffany or Brittany and if they spell their names with an i run like hell.”
“Good advice.” He nodded, adding for her benefit, “Conversely, any guy named after a Star Trek Next Gen character you should avoid like the plague. Born players. They’re all concerned with going ‘where no man has gone before.’”
Alexis broke into peals of laughter, prompting a grin of his own. She had a way about her that was unabashed and free, definitely different from most girls he met, and it was getting harder to remember why he was supposed to keep his distance.
“Any other advice you might want to impart from the other side of the curtain?” she asked playfully.
He made a show of thinking, but all he was really thinking was that he wanted to kiss her. Strands of dark hair escaped her low ponytail to curl around her jaw, but she made no move to fix it and he was glad. There was something about her devil-may-care attitude about her hair that he found refreshing. Jules had always been picture-perfect, or at least worked hard to appear so and it got old. Don’t touch my hair or don’t smudge my lipstick were familiar admonishments before the end had come crashing down around them. “How’s your ankle feeling?” he asked, redirecting his own thoughts to safer ground.
Alexis’s gaze dropped to her ankle and she nodded. “Better. The ice helped.”
“You should still stay off it,” he said, trying to stay focused. “Now...are we going to watch movies or what?”
“Is there a third option?”
“Such as?”
“Such as...hanging lights.”
“Come again?”
“Here’s the deal, I can’t sit here for hours on end and just zone out. I need to be doing something, and since I’m stuck home when I thought I’d be elsewhere, and since you’ve already shared that you don’t think it’s a good idea if we knock boots, that leads me to suggest that you help me hang lights...seeing as I’m laid up and all.” She paused for effect then added, “Or, I suppose we could stay indoors, cuddled up on the sofa...just you and me and no one else in the house...with total privacy to do whatever we wanted and no one would ever know...”
“You don’t play fair,” he groaned, his groin immediately jumping into the conversation, happy to join the fun, which was a terrible, bad thing in the way of trying to keep his hands where they belonged—off Alexis!
“I never said I played fair,” she said with a beguiling smile. “I play to win.”
Damn straight, she did. He had to respect that. His choices were: ignore his better judgment and allow Alexis to hop around outside hanging lights or keep her indoors and try to be a good guy and keep his hands to himself. Yeah, not much of a choice. He wasn’t a damn saint. He gave in with a sigh. “All right, you win this round. I suppose being outside doing something is better than staring temptation straight in the face with you cuddled up beside me. But on one condition...”
“Which is?” she asked warily.
“You sit your ass in a chair and let me do the work. The last thing I need is your brother asking why I let you hop around on an injured foot and you end up hurting yourself worse.”
She made a face. “You make me sound like an invalid. I’m fine. However, I concede to your demands. I will direct the labor and you will do the heavy lifting.”
He chuckled and grabbed the dishes. “So when is this decorating frenzy scheduled to begin?”
“Well, in the interest of not being outside when that storm hits, I’d say about five minutes after you put away the dishes and we get dressed. Sound good?”
Layton agreed, and she was actually ready to go a minute earlier than he was. He gave her a