Chewing my lip, I ran through my short list—short? Ugh, who was I kidding? My list of male friends was nonexistent. And I was in a damn jam.
Chapter Eight
Ila
A loud knock pulled me out of my work. I stared for a second at the fluid brush strokes, at the haunting scene of the city lost in fog. Dark, spindly tree limbs in the foreground tried to conceal the buildings. Ominous…eerie. No, it wasn’t just my wrecked relationship with Devyn that had me painting this way. My mind was a dark, muddled place.
“Ilaaaa!” Fists pounded on my studio door.
With a sigh, I dropped my brush into the turps and opened the door. Ray was bouncing on her heels, excitement practically oozing out of her pores. “C’mon—c’mon, let’s roll. The Grave waits for us.”
“That statement is just so wrong.”
She laughed. “It is the hottest place trending right now. Why are you still hibernating?”
“I’m working. Besides, it’s not even nine.” I rolled my eyes and walked into the living room, Ray hard on my heels.
“The perfect time. Come on, Ila,” she wheedled behind me, but I barely heard her. Movement to my right drew my attention to the stairs. Max jogged down, freshly showered and dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved Henley. I didn’t see Ray’s friend, or a guy I thought too young. All I saw was the man creeping behind my tightly erected walls.
Much as I wanted to say, “I have a date,” who was I kidding? Max had probably seen right through my lie last night. Avoiding his gaze, I blew out a weary breath. “Fine. Give me a few minutes to change.”
“Yes!” Ray grinned, punching the air. She pivoted to Max. “AreThe Playersmeeting us there?”
I didn’t hear his response as I ran upstairs to my bedroom to get ready, calling myself all kinds of stupid for wanting to be with Max.
***
Max had parked in an alley a short distance from the club. We made our way to the crowded side entrance when Ray cursed, “What’s he doing here?”
Frowning, I scanned the crowded entrance. Ryder. He was chatting with a group of people. He’d asked me to come to this opening. And I’d turned him down. Darn, I hope it wouldn’t lead to a misunderstanding when he saw me here, thinking I’d changed my mind. Ryder did have a tendency to do as he pleased.
He was attractive, I’d give him that. It’s probably why he was in the modeling biz. He was around my age, a little on the lean side, with olive skin and dark, mahogany hair that had a tendency to curl. Any girl would probably be happy to have his attention, except for one thing—okay, maybe two.
Ryder suffered from the same compulsive speaking disorder that Ray did, only his centered on one thing—himself. And when he got close, he became all handsy.
“Think we can avoid him?” Ray asked.
“Who?” Max asked, scanning the crowd.
I bit my lip, not wanting to tell him about Ryder and his “Octopus Syndrome.” Max had already blown a gasket with Titus, who hadn’t done anything except…be naked. Ugh, no, I didn’t want to think about either.
Ryder glanced our way, and when his gaze fell on me, a grin lit his striking features. He said something to his friends and strolled over. “Ila.”
Oh, man.I forced a friendly smile. After all, he had been a client of mine. “Hey, Ryder.”
Max standing beside me went utterly still.
“You look sinful as usual,” he drawled, in his typical flirty way. He gave me a quick hug, his eyes gleaming. And the inevitable followed. His hands slid down to stroke my hips.
Sighing, I stepped back.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d changed your mind about coming to The Grave? I could have picked you up.”
“It was last minute. I’m with Ray and some friends,” I evaded.
“No probs.” He shrugged it off. “I’ll join you for a while.”
“What about your friends?” I asked dismayed, aware of Max watching me with that unreadable gaze of his.
