I purse my lips, then signal the cute bartender to fill my glass again. The liquid slides down my throat, dulling the ache in my chest. I wanted Arlo to be “The One” so badly, but I can’t deny the truth any longer. It feels irreparable. In fact, I don’t think I was ever really in love with him.
“Dance floor. Now.” Jill tugs my arm.
I slide off the barstool, my head spinning as I follow my friends to the dance floor. Ryder trails behind, a constant, brooding presence.
The club spins around me, a kaleidoscope of lights and pulsing bodies. I giggle. Jill materializes with a tray of neon-colored shots, thrusting one into each of our hands. “To us!” she shouts over the thundering bass. “The most gorgeous babes in this joint!”
I down the shot, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat. The alcohol mingles with the electricity in the air, igniting a fire in my veins. I’m here to lose myself, to shed the weight of expectations and responsibilities that threaten to suffocate me.
The music consumes me. I surrender to its rhythm, letting it guide my body. My hips sway, my arms reaching skyward. I reach up, freeing my hair from its constraints. It cascades down my back, a curtain of silk moving in time with the beat.
Drifting away from my friends, I close my eyes, giving myself over to the moment. The bass reverberates through the floor, through my bones, making me feel alive in a way I haven’t in months.
When I open my eyes, they’re drawn to Ryder. He stands apart from the crowd, a dark sentinel. The strobing lights play across his chiseled features, casting dramatic shadows that only enhance his dangerous allure. His gaze is locked on me, so intense I can almost feel its heat on my skin.
I smile at him, but not a muscle in his face moves. I should listen to the warning bells ringing in my head, keep my distance from this man who seems to have the potential to upend my life. But there’s something thrilling about that glance, making me want to push the boundaries with him. To see how far he’ll go.
I grin and spin around, grabbing the arm of the nearest guy. “Want to dance?”
He nods, and I dance with him, letting him pull me close and press against me. It’s been a long time since I’ve danced this freely.
The new guy presses against me, placing his hands on my waist. They wander lower to my ass, and I lift them, returning his hands to my back.
The song reaches its peak, and again, his hands cup my ass. I’m about to object when Ryder materializes, his large frame radiating barely contained power.
With one fluid motion, he separates us, his voice a low growl. “The lady doesn’t want to be touched like that.”
“Who the fuck are you?” my dance partner challenges, puffing up his chest.
Ryder’s expression turns deadly. “Her bodyguard. And I’m authorized to use lethal force if necessary.”
God, he’s serious.
The color drains from the guy’s face. “Fucking psycho,” he mutters, backing away.
I round on Ryder, a confusing mix of anger and arousalcoursing through me. “What the hell was that? I can handle myself!”
He says nothing, his face an impassive mask.
“Oh, so now you’re giving me the silent treatment?” I taunt, frustration building. “What if I decide to dance on the bar? Will that get a reaction out of you?”
I don’t even know why I’m so annoyed. I didn’t want that guy, and I didn’t want him touching me.
I storm back to the bar, shoving through the crowd. “Another!” I demand of the cute bartender. My head’s already swimming, but I need more.
Ryder intercepts me, his large body blocking my path. “I think that’s enough,” he says.
I laugh, the sound brittle and sharp. “What are you going to do to stop me? Do you have permission to kill me, too?”
His brow furrows, concern breaking through his stoic facade. I don’t like that look.
“God, Ryder. Learn to live a little,” I snap, turning away from the bar and brushing past him to rejoin my friends.
Seven
RYDER
Idon’t know what came over me—to tell her to stop drinking. It’s not my job to tell my clients how to live their lives. There’s something about her…
