He huffs a small laugh. “I’m a hunter. I think you’re in dangerous territory.”
I scoff at him. “A cameo jacket makes you a hunter?” I involuntarily roll my eyes. Men hate this holiday.
He cocks a brow. “You do like to roll your eyes at me, don’t you?” he asks in a low, threatening voice. It’s a voice that would send shivers of fear through most people, but not to me. I know who he really is.
When we were younger and in his backyard, I saw his true colors. I saw him change into the bad boy everyone thinks he is at a moment's notice. Like he was putting on a facade.
Once I’d dropped an entire box of decorations for my parents' anniversary. A few tissue paper pompoms I wanted to hang from the deck blew over into the neighbor’s yard, into his yard.
I was only fourteen at the time and he was a few years older, but I wanted him to notice me. My hormones were in full swing, as were the pimples on my face. And my mother wouldn’t let me wear makeup. I cringe, remembering that fact about my childhood. How could I not want him though? He had a motorcycle, and his right arm was covered with tattoos. He’d clean up the weeds in their front yard without his shirt on, and those lean muscles and deep “V” at his hips made him the star of my dreams at night.
He never looked my way though, not that I expected him to. Of course he wouldn’t have. I was the pimply, naïve girl next door. But that day he was out back with low-hung jeans and a tight white t-shirt that fit snugly over his broad shoulders. And my mom’s pink tissue pompom flew right over to him.
My heart stopped in my chest as he bent down with his muscles rippling and picked it up, raising one brow and looking at me with the corner of his lips kicked up into a smirk.
I apologized and nervously tucked my dirty blonde hair behind my ear. I’m sure I was blushing, for no good reason other than I was thinking naughty things I knew I shouldn’t have been.
He just chuckled and offered to help me decorate. 'Cause that’s the kind of guy he is.
I remember that day just like yesterday.
I wasn’t tall enough to reach the deck, so he helped me. I just sat on the concrete porch and watched the sweat glisten on his sun-kissed body. I felt like a pervert creeping on him, but he didn’t look at me like that. No matter how much I wanted him to.
And then my father came outside.
In an instant, Ryker’s features went sharp and dark as my dad bitched him out. He told him to get out, and stay out. I was mortified. He was only helping me. My heart tried to climb up my throat, and I didn’t say anything. I felt like a traitor. Like I’d betrayed him.
Ryker dropped the pompom and shrugged like he didn’t care. But I could see it in his eyes. It was wrong. I cried my eyes out and yelled at my dad after he’d left, but the damage was done.
I’ll never understand how my father could talk to him like that when he knew just as well as I did the shit his parents put him through. But then again, my dad yelled at me, too. He said I should know better. I wasn’t allowed to date boys, and especially not THAT boy. I knew what I’d done was wrong. But Ryker hadn’t done a damn thing wrong. That was years ago, and he’s definitely not a bad boy… he’s a bad man now. Or at least that’s how he looks.
I know he’s still the same at heart. Even if he doesn’t look the part.
“I do like rolling my eyes at you,” I say back in a flirty voice. Normally I’d be embarrassed by how apparent it is that I’m into him. But I’ve got a nice buzz going on now. It’s not like he’d ever make a move on me anyway. A waiter passes us with a fresh tray of champagne glasses, and I snag one off of it. I give him a small smile and clutch onto the drink for dear life.
I need liquid courage.
“I like to see you get all wound up,” I say in a lowered voice, looking up through my thick lashes. I’m going all in. I hope it came out as sexy as I think it did.
Ryker’s eyes heat and narrow as he tries to hold my gaze. I slowly lick my lips and bite down on the bottom one. It does exactly what I’d hoped it would. His eyes focus in on my mouth and I can practically see his dick jump in his pants.
Yeah, I’m not a pimply little girl anymore. Look at me now, Ryker.
“Careful what you’re doing, kitten. You’re gonna get in trouble.” He takes a step forward and part of me wants to instinctively step back. He’s trouble with a capital T. But that’s not happening tonight. I take a step forward, closing in a bit more. I could reach out and run my hands down his muscular chest if I wanted to. Well, I do want to. My pussy clenches around nothing.
“I told you, I’m a bunny, not a cat.” I shake my head and slowly bring my drink to my lips. I don’t even taste it as I take a swallow and keep my eyes on his the entire time. “You should listen to me sometime, Ryker.”
“That’s not why I’m calling you kitten. And you should watch that mouth. You’re really,” he says as his large body cages me in, “gonna get your ass in trouble talking to me like that.”
“By who? My dad’s not here, Ryker.” I surprise myself with how seductive my voice comes out. I must be really buzzed.
Ryker takes another step closer to me, and now we're so close we’re only a few inches apart. He lowers his head and drops his lips down to my ear. His breath is hot against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I close my eyes and tilt my head slightly. This is a fucking dream come true.
My heartbeat slows, and my lungs fill with his masculine scent.
But before the words fall from his lips, I hear a voice and my eyes pop open.
“Get away from her!” Khloe shrieks.
Ryker
“What the fuck, Khloe?!” Catherine yells back at the bitch in the pearls. I take a step back as Khloe grips Catherine’s arm and yanks her away from me. Catherine’s drink spills and splashes on my jeans and the floor. She looks back at her friend with pure rage on her face.
My heart beats frantically, and I resist the urge to pull Catherine back to me.
She’s mine.
In my head she is, but in reality, I have no claim on her. And she sure isn’t the sweet little thing next door anymore. The years apart have only made her more beautiful, and confident, and brazen.
I fucking love it.
The chick tries to pull Catherine away even though my kitten is fighting it.
They’re talking in angry whispers, and Khloe pulls her farther away from me, trying to get her out of earshot.
Catherine rips her arm from her friend’s grip and looks back at her with disgust.
“Get away from him!” Khloe says loud enough for me to hear. Khloe’s eyes keep darting from me to her, but Catherine’s focused on her friend.
“What are you thinking?” Khloe screeches.
I barely hear Catherine reply. “What are you doing?” she practically hisses.
“A guy like that is a lowlife thug. He's the type of guy you fuck for a night, and then you're done.” Catherine’s eyes go wide. I take in a slow breath and try to let the fact that she doesn’t defend me roll off my shoulders. But I’d be lying if I said I was successful.
“You deserve so much better than that prick. He may be good for one lay, but you’d feel like shit afterward.” Catherine turns her body slightly, rocking on her heels and says something I can’t hear. “Trust me, I’m saving you.”
There’s a pause for a long moment while Khloe rubs Catherine’s back, like she’s consoling her. I start to get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like that’s really what Catherine wanted. Like she’s upset because Khloe is just trying to talk her out of making a mistake.
Mistake. Yeah, that’s what I am.
“He doesn’t belong here.” She scrunches her nose and points a fake cigarette in my direction. “I don’t know who invited him, but he needs to leave. Now.”
I watch as Catherine’s mouth opens wide and she stares at her friend. I wait for an entire minute, and it feels like a lifetime. I wait for something, anything. But Catherine says nothing. Instead she slowly closes he
r mouth and crosses her arms across her chest, then looks past Khloe’s shoulder and away from me.
It’s like a bullet to my fucking chest.
Catherine isn’t a girl you fuck for a night. She’s the kinda girl you keep. I always knew that. And somewhere in me, I knew I wanted to keep her.
But I know what she was thinking. She just wanted to go slumming for the night.
I don’t say a word; I turn on my heel and walk out.
The music is blaring in my ears. My shoulder bumps into the streamers hanging from the ceiling and they stick to my shoulder, irritating the fuck out of me. I rip them down and let them drift to the ground as I head to the door.
I walk past groups of people talking and laughing in corners. A few girls are dancing and squealing with laughter. Jake’s climbing the spiral staircase, holding hands with the cheerleader I saw earlier..
Fuck. I don’t belong here.
As I turn the doorknob and open the door slightly, Levi’s hand comes out and slams it shut. Fucker’s about to get punched in the face.
“What the fuck, man?” Levi asks.
I keep my teeth clenched to prevent me from saying something I can't take back to a client. That’s all he is. I was fucking stupid to try to make friends with him or any of them in here.
I was perfectly fine burying myself in work and staying out of trouble. Right now all I wanna do is pick a fight, and Levi’s about to figure that out if he doesn’t back off.
“What happened?” Levi asks with some hesitation in his voice. He’s searching my face for something, but I don’t answer. I’m not fucking telling him.
I’m angry. My body is screaming at me to lash out. To just take my anger out on him. But more than that, I’m hurt, and I don’t wanna show it.
“Are you alright?” he asks. And that’s the last fucking straw.
“Get off the fucking door,” I say through gritted teeth and pray he does it. 'Cause if not, my hand's coming off the knob and my fist is slamming into his face.
I pull on the doorknob and he takes his hand off of it, letting the door open wide enough for me to get out.
I don’t look back at him, and he lets me go without further fuss. Good move on his part. I walk across the grass rather than taking the path. I make a beeline right for where I left my bike.
I need to get the fuck out of here, and never look back.
It’s better it happened this way. I was a fucking idiot to think I’d ever be anything to her. I still have my tats. I’m a Dean. I have my asshole parents' blood in me. I’ll never be good. I’ll never be worth anything.
It was stupid to think I’d be good enough for her.
I kick my bike to life and take off. I don’t bother to look back even when I hear Catherine calling out my name.
Catherine
I can’t believe what this bitch is saying. I can’t even look at her. And now she’s talking about him the same way his parents did. All the memories flood back at once. I feel weak and helpless listening to the way his own mother used to talk to him. I cross my arms over my chest and turn away while tears run down my cheeks. I force myself to breathe out deeply.
I’m taken back to a night when we came home together. He’d always wait for me at the food court when the mall had curfew. He knew I didn’t like walking in the woods alone. Especially at night.
We walked mostly in silence. I had a cherry slushie, and I have no idea why because it was so damn cold outside. He laughed at me when I started shivering and took off his Henley. I remember how we stopped on the edge of the woods. The moon was out and it was bright. I could see all of his lean muscle and that “V” at his hips I used to dream about.
He handed it to me to cover myself with. I wore a thin tank top that cut off at my midsection. I'd worn it for him of course. I always made sure I looked cute if I was going to be around him. I was always hoping he would notice me.
I had to try hard to keep myself from looking at his body, and judging from the smirk on his face, he knew that. I remember how hot I felt then. I was a bundle of nerves and embarrassed for being caught looking. I expected him to make fun of me or put me in my place, but instead he just walked into the woods like normal.
He always walked faster than me, maybe because he’s taller? But I remember he seemed to be walking faster than normal that night. I kept telling myself it was because he was cold. I offered a few times to give him his shirt back, but he insisted I wear it. It was obvious he just wanted to get home and get away from me. At least that’s what I thought until I tripped over a tree root. I would’ve landed hard on my face. The damn slushie went flying and splattered on the ground.
I let out a shriek and prepared to fall in the dirt and land hard on the ground, but he caught me. Both of his strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me up until I was pressed against his hard chest.
I thought he was going to kiss me. My hands were on his bare chest, and the way he was holding me close made every nerve ending in my body burst into flames.
I remember how my breathing came in pants and I swear that even in the darkness I saw a heat in his eyes. But in a flash it was gone, like I’d just imagined it. And he set me down on my feet, leaving me confused and shaken.
He slowed his pace, and we walked home in silence. And it was an awkward silence. I kept my hands clasped to keep me from reaching out to him.
I felt fucking nauseated and practically ran to my house. I always entered through the back door so my father wouldn’t see I’d walked through the woods with Ryker. He was my dirty little secret. My parents would have killed me.
That night when I walked in, I’d completely forgotten I was wearing his Henley. I walked right in without thinking.
I was bombarded with questions. I wasn’t allowed to date anyone, and my father said it was unacceptable for me to be around Ryker, even if he was just a friend. He was in the middle of scolding me when we heard the neighbors. Ryker’s parents were having a fight. It wasn’t obvious at first. But then there was a loud yell of pain. I think his dad hit his mom. And then Ryker got in the middle. He always did that. He always defended his mom, even when she was the one yelling at him half the time.
The way Khloe is talking about Ryker reminds me of Mrs. Dean. It makes me want to slam my fist in her face.
I finally snap out of my recollection and look that bitch in the eyes.
“Fuck you.” That’s all I give her as I turn around and go back to where I left Ryker. But he’s not there.
I walk quickly around the corner searching for him, but I don’t know where he went. My heart races with worry. He left me? Fucking Khloe ruined it for me. Oh my god, what if he heard her?
“What the--” Khloe sneers as she puts her hand on my bare shoulder, digging her nails in so I’m forced to turn around. I don’t even think about it as I clench a fist and punch her right in her face.
She lets out a wail and clutches at her nose with her hands.
My eyes go large. Holy fuck!
I can’t believe I hit her. I mean, I’ve dreamed of doing it for so long. She’s definitely had it coming. But still. Holy hell.
She's bent over, but then she stands and pulls her hands away from her face. There’s no blood, but her face is all red, and her nose is starting to swell.
“You bitch!” she yells out, her eyes glassy with tears. I start to feel bad, but then I remember what she said about Ryker.
“You fucking had it coming.” I almost leave but then I think to add, “Don’t you ever talk about him like that again.” As if she’ll listen to me. I know she won’t and there’s going to be hell to pay for this, but I don’t care. What she said is not okay, and I’m not going to pretend like it is.
She looks up at me with complete disgust and opens her mouth to say something. But two drunk girls come into the room and one doesn’t see Khloe clutching her nose.
She tumbles right over her and they fall into a pile on the floor. There’s yelling and pushing, and the other drunk
girl is just staring wide-eyed.
I have no intention of staying to see the end of this. I head to the ballroom where everyone else has been hanging out. The music gets louder as I approach, and the lights are flickering in beat with the music.
I look all over, and each second that passes my heart slams harder in my chest.
He had to have heard. For a fleeting second I think maybe he was bored and is making out with someone in a corner. But I push those thoughts aside.
There’s a reason I feel the way I do about him. The way he held me all those years ago did something to me. I know it did. Tears prick my eyes and they make me feel weak. I am not going to cry. I am going to find him, and I’m going to beat his ass for leaving me like that.
I nod my head as I leave the ballroom and see Levi by the door. I pick up my pace to ask him if he’s seen Ryker, but I slow down when I get close and see his expression.
He looks pissed. I come to a halt as he walks toward me.
“What happened?” His voice is hard, and it’s a demand. I don’t like it. I don’t like being talked to that way. I’m cool with Levi, but he better watch it.
“I don’t like the way you’re talking to me, and where’s Ryker?” I say coolly.
Levi’s brow scrunches, and his hard features soften.
“He took off.”
My heart plummets, and my throat closes. He left me again. That fucking bastard. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.
“What happened?” he asks again.
“Khloe’s a bitch. That’s what happened.”
Levi stares at me for a second before moving aside. “He just left, so maybe you can catch him.”
A small bit of hope blooms in my chest. I race to the door and open it just in time to see Ryker on his bike taking off. I call out for him, but he doesn’t hear.
I stand in the open doorway and watch him grow smaller in the distance.
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