She wiggled in his arms, turning to glare at him. “They flock to you?”

He grinned. “Like a PMSing chick to chocolate.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not lying to every woman I meet, telling her what she wants to hear just to get her in bed, and promising a future when I have no intentions of settling down.”

Her expression changed slightly and he couldn’t decipher it. She pushed against his legs, freeing herself, and grabbed his copy of the script from the bed.

“What did I say wrong?”

“Nothing.”

In other words—everything. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, turning her to face him. He hid a smile at her pout. “Come on, you really don’t need to hear flowery words or meaningless promises, do you?” He hadn’t pegged her for a woman who needed the romance, the fake highlights reel, and the matching his and hers towels. The thing was, he wasn’t sure he was the type to give her all of that. The idea of letting his guard down so completely, opening himself up to a potential heartache made him reluctant to even get as involved as he already had. He refused to be that lovesick, pathetic guy who ended up a broken mess when things ended.

She sighed. “No. You’re right. It’s usually just a lot of bullshit.”

“Exactly. And no guy—in real life, anyway—actually says those things. Therefore, Hollywood romance movies are really screwing things up for the real guys out there.”

“Real guys like you?”

“Yeah. Real guys like me.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is this thing between us—where we go from hot to cold and back again—is real and the stuff in movies only sets unrealistic expectations for women of men?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.” Glad they were finally on the same page. He leaned in to kiss her, but she placed her hand over his lips and pushed his face away.

Okay, maybe not.

“Maybe you should try a little harder to pretend a bit more. After all, the guy in the movies gets laid . . . You won’t be,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

He dove after her, but she closed and locked it too fast.

He shook his head with a sigh, glancing down at his semi-hard-on that had nowhere to go. “Guess we better get better at the bullshit.”

*   *   *

Romance was not his thing. Flowers and candlelight dinners were a foreign concept. Rose petal trails leading to a bedroom decorated with scented candles? Never going to happen. But if Parker wanted a real date, he could do that. The day before, he hadn’t been able to shake the look of disappointment on her face that she’d tried to hide. She wanted more from him and he found himself wanting to give her more.

Which terrified the shit out of him.

He wasn’t sure he could ever fully commit the way she deserved, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to make an effort—for her. Even if it did make him vulnerable. No other woman had ever been worth the gamble.

“Where are we going?” she yelled over the noise of the motorcycle and wind as they flew down Las Vegas Boulevard the next day.

“Quit asking,” he yelled back. She really didn’t get the concept of a surprise, he thought, shaking his head with a grin.

“The last time we ventured outside of the gym I ended up in the worst pain of my life watching you get hit on by a receptionist.”

“That one was your idea. Mine’s better. Now, hang on,” he said, picking up speed as he merged onto the freeway. He felt her arms tighten around his waist as she slid even closer, pressing her body into his back. The only thing better than speeding down the highway on a beautiful fall day was having a sexy woman on the back of the bike.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into a parking lot. Removing her helmet, she read the sign on the building. RED ROCK CLIMBING CENTER.

“Now, don’t freak out . . .”

“I . . .” she started at the same time.

“No one is great at this their first time. Just try your best and we’ll have fun, okay?” he said, taking her hand as they went inside.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Ten minutes later, harnessed up and standing in front of the easiest thirty-five-foot wall in the building, Parker looked terrified. “Are you sure about this?”

Tyson nodded, fastening her helmet. “It’s fine. I’ll be down here working the ropes. You’re safe. Trust me?” he asked.

“Should I?”

He smirked. “In here, yes.”

“Noted,” she said wryly. “Okay, where do I start?”

They moved closer to the wall, covered in multicolored holds, spaced a relatively easy distance apart. He’d seen children climb this wall. He was confident she could do it. “Just put your foot in this first hold and reach higher as you go.”

She did as he instructed.

“Great, you’re doing good.” She was about halfway up the wall, and he had a hard time focusing on her climbing and not staring at her firm, shapely ass in the tight pink leggings she wore. Damn, the woman was hot . . . and she was actually impressing the shit out of him on this wall.

She glanced down at him. “Really? You think so? How about this?” His mouth fell open as she picked up speed and flew up the wall expertly, then rappelled back down with ease.

He stared at her when she reached the bottom. “You’ve done this before.”

“Uh-huh,” she agreed. “Once or twice.”

“Right.” He pulled her harness, drawing her closer and kissing her. “You could have told me.”

“I was enjoying your macho alpha-man routine,” she said with a smile, kissing him again. Then she held up an arm, flexing a bicep. “These noodle arms are not that weak after all, huh?”

“Okay Rocky, this was the kid’s wall. Let’s see what you can do with a real one.” See how cocky she was then.

*   *   *

Two hours later, they’d each completed all of the walls at the rock climbing center. Her muscles ached, but she was pleased with herself for keeping up with Tyson’s time on every wall. Obviously, he hadn’t seen her movie No Limits, where she’d been a rock climbing instructor. And though it had been several years since she’d climbed, her recent weeks of muscle building had enabled her to show off a little the skills she’d acquired for the role. Sitting on a bench, removing their knee pads, he handed her a bottle of water. “You’re not bad.”

“You’re okay,” she said, taking a gulp, then handing it back.

He drained the bottle. “Just okay?”

His manly ego was really suffering that afternoon. Maybe she should ease up a little.

Nah. “Just okay . . .” She glanced at the wall behind her. “I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to enter this Ultimate Challenge Bouldering Competition or anything.” According to the poster, the Red Point Bouldering Competition was starting at the center in less than twenty minutes. Entry fees could be paid at the door and preregistration wasn’t required, but there was no way Tyson would accept that challenge, she thought smugly.

However, he stood and read the poster quickly. “I’m up for the challenge if you are,” he said, surprising her.

Shit. “You just saw my fantastic climbing ability and you want to take me on?” Maybe the thought of possibly losing to her might make him reconsider.

“You bet.”

Damn. No backing down now when she’d issued the challenge. “Okay. You’re on.”

*   *   *

In hindsight, the impulsive challenge probably wasn’t the best idea.

Especially when she was some sort of climbing expert. Who the fuck knew? “This is your fault,” he told her now, sitting in a ProCare Medical Clinic’s examination room.

“That’s a sore loser comment if I ever heard one,” she said, admiring her tiny third-place trophy, a little gold-plated rock climber scaling a rock wall.

“You didn’t beat me. I had to stop competing when my shoulder popped out of place,” he mumbled, clutching his arm. He closed his eyes, rocked by another wave of pain and nausea.