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And without another word, I step around her and head back into the main part of the bar.
Our table is empty.
With a sinking heart and a flash of something hot and jagged-edged, I see Ryder. At the bar.
In conversation with a gorgeous blonde in a low-cut top and painted on black shiny jeans.
Oh, hell no.
His hand is on her hip and she’s giving him the sex eyes.
I don’t think. I just do.
I march over there. Time to break it up.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.
And Ryder’s dark gaze swings to me.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryder
It’s like all the shit hits the fan and for once I’ve done nothing wrong.
Because I haven’t done anything except go to get some drinks from the bar. It’s not my fault the grabby blonde took one look at me and latched on with her fake nails.
I expect her to slink away, but she doesn’t and Elliot taps her fingers against her arm. “Well?”
I offer Elliot my best smile, but I might well have not for all it did me. Nothing melted in her. Not even a hint.
Damn, but I like her, and the worst part is I can hear the disappointment when she speaks. She’s the last person I want to disappoint. After all, we’re friends. At least, I think we’re friends.
Even if she’s harboring murderous thoughts.
“I’m just talking, Elliot,” I say, “you know how it is.”
“No, I don’t, but I’m beginning to. Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Ryder?”
“Oh.” Shit. I desperately try to remember the name of the very hot, octopus-like woman who, for some reason, is still there, still a little too close, but I can’t. “We were just chatting.”
The fire in Elliot’s gaze is fierce and the woman slides in closer to me and I realize with horror I have my hand on her.
I’d put it there to stop her getting closer, and rebuffing women is a skill I seem to have lost, apparently. I used to be able to do it with ease, without thinking, but I’m trying to be someone I’m not, and that skill goes hand in hand with picking up the woman of the moment.
Not that I’d have picked up this blonde. But under normal circumstances, I’d have shut it all down so smoothly I wouldn’t be in this situation. Trying to be noble is utter shit, if you ask me. So is being sincerely nice. Or trying to be sincerely nice. It gets you into trouble with certain tall redheads and means you can’t smoothly repel cheap, hot blondes.
Elliot is glaring like this thing with us is real and there’s something about that. It gets to me, winds down deep against my bones.
“Really?”
“Back off, bitch.” The woman’s hotness points drop way down to the single digit area with this. “I think he’s done with you.”
“I think you should watch your mouth,” Elliot says before I can say a word as I start to rise from the bar stool I took waiting to be served.
The woman tosses her hair and it almost hits me in the face. “I think you should find something your own level.”
“That’s no way to talk to her,” I say quietly as I disentangle the woman who’s now below the single digit line and into the negative.
