When his fingers brush over the crotch of my panties, I swat his hand away. “Behave.” I murmur, tugging on his earlobe.
“I’m so fucking hot for you,” he growls, yanking me onto his lap and grinding his hard-on into my ass. “I could just slide your panties aside and push up inside you, and no one would know,” he says, toying with the tulle layers of my skirt. It’s true it would act as an effective shield, but there’s no way I’m fucking him for the first time in a booth in a public bar surrounded by the guys from his band.
“Or we could go fuck in the bathroom,” I suggest, in compromise.
He repositions me so I’m straddling him, rocking his hips up into mine. “I’m trying to remember why I wanted to wait, and I can’t think of any good reason right now,” he purrs, sliding his hands under my skirt and squeezing my ass. The band has finished their set, and they’re saying their goodbyes to the crowd. “I need inside you, baby,” Ryder pants in my ear. “I’m so fucking horny.”
Removing Ryder’s hands from my ass, I pin him with a cautionary look. “I am not fucking you here in front of everyone, so get that idea out of your head.”
He slides his hand around to my ass again, slipping his finger under my panties and pushing it inside me. “You’re fucking soaking, baby.”
I grab his wrist, pulling his hand out from under my skirt, as Gage and the guys approach the table. “Ryder,” I hiss. “Cut that shit out.” He’s starting to piss me off now. I try to wriggle out of his lap, but he clamps his hands on my waist, holding me in place.
“I know you want me, baby, so stop playing games.”
He buries his head in my chest, and I’m horrified as realization dawns.
He’s treating me like one of his groupies.
Like one of those girls who clearly don’t give a shit if he manhandles them in public.
A red haze glazes over my eyes, as anger and humiliation wage war inside me. “Ryder, stop.” I push at his head, but he continues to nuzzle into my chest, biting and snapping at my flesh through the lacy gaps in my top.
“You okay, Zeta?” a familiar voice asks, concern underscoring Gus’s tone.
“She’s fine,” Ryder snaps, lifting his head from my chest and twisting around to see who asked.
“Hey, Ryder,” Gage says, looking a little uncertain, his gaze bouncing between my boyfriend and me. “Good to see you again, man.”
“You guys killed it,” Ryder says, and air whooshes out of my mouth in grateful relief. I use the opportunity to try and slide off his lap, but he keeps a firm hold of my hips, keeping me in place.
“Ryder,” I whisper. “Let me sit down.”
“Relax, sweetheart.” Ryder squeezes my ass over my skirt, grinning at the guys standing in front of our booth. “It’s nothing these guys haven’t seen before.”
“Ryder, you’re making Zeta uncomfortable,” Scott intervenes. “Let the girl sit back down.”
“Fuck off and mind your own business, White,” Ryder barks, and I’ve reached my tipping point.
“Fucking let me go,” I hiss, attempting again to slide off his lap, but the table is at my back, and there isn’t much wriggle room, especially with how closely Ryder is holding onto my waist.
“Dude, you need to let her go,” Gus says, pushing past his brother and facing Ryder with a thunderous look.
“Gus, don’t,” I warn, because I’ve no idea how Ryder will react to some strange guy coming to my rescue. He’s unpredictable right now and a million miles away from the Ryder I know and love. If this is how he’s been living his life, then I’m glad I haven’t been around to witness this, because it’s breaking my heart.
“You!” Ryder points his finger at Gus, his eyes darkening. Finally sliding me off his lap, he jumps out of the booth, launching himself at Gus and shoving him in the chest. I watch in horror as Ryder brings his arm up, fist clenched, swinging around and aiming straight for Gus’s face.
CHAPTER 33
Zeta
Gus is a big guy, but Ryder has caught him off guard, so he doesn’t react fast enough, and Ryder’s left hook glances the side of his jawline, sending him staggering back. Camera flashes go off, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, horrified as Ryder takes another swing at Gus. “You fucking stay the hell away from my girl. I will knock you the fuck out if you touch her!” He swings for Gus again, but Gus has straightened up, and he swings back, punching Ryder square in the nose. Ryder staggers back, falling into Mike, with blood spurting from his nose.
I scamper out of the booth and plant myself in between Ryder and Gus. “Stop! This is getting out of hand.”
“You’re seriously with this guy?” Gus asks, scowling. “He’s a disrespectful asshole, and you deserve better.”
“Like you, I suppose,” Ryder roars, wiping blood from the end of his nose.
“Too fucking right,” Gus retorts, as Gage goes to his brother, pulling him back and whispering in his ear. “I don’t fucking care, Gage. I want nothing to do with that fucking douche anyway.”
“Can we just get out of here?” I plead with Mike, and he looks to Ryder.
Ryder pulls me to him, kissing me hard on the lips, and I want to knee him in the balls for having the audacity to try and “claim” me to prove some point to Gus. I rip my lips from his, shoving at his chest. “Don’t fucking kiss me. Don’t even fucking look at me. I’m so mad at you right now.”
“Me!” he yells. “What the fuck did I do?”
“C’mon, man,” Scott says. “Just leave it. This is gonna be all over social media within the hour.”
“Like I give a fuck.” Ryder slings his arm around my shoulder. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go fuck in the limo.”
Gus pushes past his brother, planting himself in front of me. “You don’t have to leave with him, Zeta. I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
Ryder shoves me out of the way, punching Gus in the mouth before he’s had time to protect himself. Gus completely loses his balance, making a grab for the table as he falls to the floor. The table wobbles, and the contents slide over the edge, landing on top of him. “Oh my God!” I crouch down over him as glass shatters everywhere. “Gus! Are you okay?”
“We’ve got this, Zeta,” Gage says, lifting me up and over the broken debris. “I think it’s best if you just get him out of here.”
“I’m so sorry, Gage.”
“You’ve nothing to be apologizing for. Go. I’ll get Kayla to call you tomorrow.”
Mike has to practically drag Ryder out of the place while Scott escorts me outside. I tuck my chin into my chest, avoiding the cell phones being held aloft as we leave.
I’m beyond livid when we get into the limo, so when Ryder turns and glares at me, I slide down the seat, as far away from him as I can get, sitting on my hands to stop myself from punching him. The car glides out into the traffic, and tension is thick in the air. Micah unscrews the cap on the whiskey, and Gar lines up some more coke. I shoot daggers at them as Scott lets out a tired sigh.
“Oh my God, Gus! Are you okay?!” Ryder mimics my words and my tone of voice as he whips the bottle of whiskey out of Micah’s hands, emptying the contents down his throat.
“Do not even start with me right now, Ryder,” I fume, crossing my arms over my chest and glowering at him.
“Me!” Ryder shouts. “You’re the one who was fawning all over that asshole.”
“Excuse me?” I scream, uncaring we have an audience. “This all started because you were treating me like one of your whores!”
He sends me a scathing look, his eyes roaming my body. “Well, if the cap fits.”
Tears stab my eyes, but I force them aside. I will not cry in front of him.
“Screw you, Ryder. You’re a horrible drunk, or maybe it’s all the drugs in your system fucking with your brain, but if this is what your lifestyle does to you, then I want no p
art of it.”
He swigs out of the bottle, and an ugly sneer twists the corners of his mouth. “No problem, honey. There’s a line of girls waiting to ride my cock, and they wouldn’t give me this shit.”
“Can you stop the car, please.” I lock eyes with the driver through the mirror.
“Zeta, don’t,” Scott interjects. “If you don’t want to come to the after-party, I’ll stay in the limo with you and see you back safely.”
“Let her fucking leave if she wants to,” Ryder spews, waving his hands about, whiskey sloshing out of the bottle, over his pants, and down the front of the seat. “Hey, you!” he shouts, leaning forward and pointing at the driver. “Pull the fuck over.”
“Ryder, I really don’t think you want—”
“You can get the fuck out too, Scott, if you’re gonna continue acting like a boring cunt,” Ryder snaps.
“Fine by me, dude,” Scott clips out.
The car glides to a halt at the sidewalk, and Scott opens the door quickly, not waiting for the driver to come around. He offers me his hand, and I let him help me outside.
“Don’t wait up, sweetheart,” Ryder calls out before cruelly adding, “I’ll be too busy fucking my whores to even remember your name.”
I slam the door shut with force and step back from the curb. I swallow hard as I watch the limo pull away, my emotions all screwed up. “That’s not who he really is,” Scott quietly says.
“Don’t defend him. Please. I just don’t want to hear it.”
He slings his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me. “I don’t know what demons haunt Ryder, but something must’ve happened tonight for him to regress. I’ve never seen him as happy as he’s been with you these past few weeks.”
“Well, if it did, he didn’t tell me. We’re supposed to be a couple. He should’ve talked to me instead of treating me like one of his groupies.” I swipe at the hot tears rolling down my face. “I’ve never been so humiliated.”
“He’s going to hate himself tomorrow for this.”
“It didn’t look like he gave two shits,” I say, pulling out my cell to call an Uber to come pick us up. Just then, a blacked-out SUV pulls up to the curb, and Mike slides out from behind the driver seat.
“What’s happened now?” he asks in a resigned tone.
“Ryder’s spiraling,” Scott says. “And he was an even bigger asshole in the car. Have you any idea what’s going on?”
He shakes his head, and sighs. “I know I’ve no place saying this, Zeta, but those things he said and did back there are not the real Ryder. He’s going to beat himself up over this when he comes down from his high.” He tilts his head to one side. “You remember what I said to you before?” I nod. “I know it’s not easy. I know it’s asking a lot, but he needs you, he just doesn’t realize it.”
“Don’t lay that guilt trip on Zeta, Mike. That’s not fair.”
“He’s his own worst enemy, and when he realizes what he’s done tonight, I fear he’s going to go totally off the rails.” Swiping his finger across his cell, he silently hands it to me.
I watch the TMZ video report with a pain in my heart. They’ve just added a feed of the guys arriving at the venue for the after-party. Ryder staggers out of the car, almost face-planting the ground. He’s carrying the half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, letting loose a string of expletives at the waiting paparazzi. He doesn’t even acknowledge his fans as he stumbles his way into the hotel. The reporter suggests Ryder’s behavior indicates he’s relapsed and questions my absence.
“He needs you,” Mike quietly reconfirms.
Scott opens his mouth to interject again, but I hold onto his arm, stalling him. “No, it’s okay.” I shake my head, sighing. “I can’t leave him like that. If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I’m pissed and hurt and questioning everything I thought I knew about Ryder and our relationship, but I can’t abandon him, not after seeing that. He’s his own worst enemy right now, and if the tables were turned, I know he wouldn’t leave me.
So that’s how I find myself being escorted into the after-party, flanked by Scott and Mike, a half hour later. It’s being held at a snazzy Manhattan hotel, and barricades have been set up outside the entrance, keeping the crowd at bay. Reporters are screaming my name and asking questions about Ryder, as we pass, but I ignore them. “It’s gone viral about you two,” Mike confirms, leading me down the hallway to the elevator. “You can expect more of that in your future.”
We arrive at the ballroom, on the third floor, a few minutes later. The room has been constructed around a large circular dance floor. Two long bars reside on either end of the room, fitted into the wall, and massive chandeliers hang from numerous points on the ceiling. Plush velvet-backed booths are arranged in a circle around the dance floor with high tables and stools in a row behind them. The room is packed with partygoers eager to have a good time. The scent of booze, expensive perfume, and illegal substances is pungent in the air. Strobe lights cut across the crowd writhing to beats played by a renowned DJ as I scan the room, trying to locate Ryder.
Mike is a good head taller than me, and he spots Micah over by the side of the dance floor, so we head in that direction. As we approach, I see he’s dancing with a well-known actress from one of those popular teen soaps. Although calling it dancing isn’t strictly true. Simulating a live porn act would be more akin to describe how they’re grinding and pawing at one another.
“Zeta, baby! You’re here!” Gar shouts into my ear from behind, and then I’m lifted up and draped over his shoulder before I know what’s going on.
“Gar, put me down, you ass!” I pummel my fists into his back, pleading with Mike and Scott to help.
“Oh fuck.” Mike glances ahead, closing his eyes and sighing.
“Look who I found,” Gar proclaims, plonking his butt down in a booth with me on his lap. His dick’s hard as a rock, prodding into my stomach, and I puke a little in my mouth. Before I can get away from him, he grabs hold of my hips, angling me so I’m facing the table.
My stomach drops to my toes and bile floods my mouth as I stare at the girl currently occupying Ryder’s lap. “Who the fuck are you?” I snap, shooting daggers at her.
“Everything you’ll never be,” she proclaims, wrapping her arm around Ryder’s neck while sipping champagne from a bottle through a straw.
If Ryder wanted to go out and find my exact opposite, he’s certainly achieved it. She’s tiny with a nonexistent waist and perky little boobs. Her long white-blonde hair hangs in straight lines down her back, and she’s dripping in expensive jewelry. Wearing a strapless cream and gold bejeweled dress, she’s as far removed from me as you can get.
And, definitely, no groupie.
Ryder runs his fingers through her hair, and a heavy weight presses down on my chest, restricting my air supply, making breathing difficult. Pain lodges in my throat and stings the backs of my eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two dipshits?” Scott barks at Gar. “How the fuck can either of you let that bitch anywhere near him!”
“Dude, chill. Ashley’s cool now.” Gar waves his hands about, his eyes rolling around his head. He shifts underneath me, jerking his hips up, his erection now prodding my ass.
“You’re Ashley?” I blurt.
“I see my reputation proceeds me,” she purrs.
“Yeah, I’ll bet your mom’s proud.” I narrow my eyes at her, trying to ignore the fact Ryder is now running his hands up and down her arms.
“Jealousy is very unbecoming, and so common,” she says, leaning back against Ryder’s chest. She twists her arm around, running her fingers through his hair, and I want to gouge out her eyeballs with my nails and pull every strand of silky hair from her head.
When she starts peppering little kisses along his jawline, and he doesn’t stop her, something dies insi
de me. A sharp pain spears me in the heart, and I feel it rupturing, splitting apart, still too fragile from the last time Ryder annihilated it.
I can’t bear witness to this. I can’t sit here and watch him ruin everything we’ve ever shared. I climb out of Gar’s lap, grabbing onto Mike’s arm to steady myself as I scramble out of the booth. “This was a mistake,” I tell him, fighting tears. “I can’t do this. I’m done.”
I don’t look back as I walk away, smothering tears the entire time. A lump the size of a baseball is jammed in my throat, corking my sobs, but I know it’s only temporary. The pain pressing down on my chest is excruciating, and I just want to get home and forget I ever laid eyes on Ryder Stone.
A familiar face steps into my path, his brow furrowing as he notices my distress. “What’s wrong?” Brody asks, closely examining my face. I haven’t seen him in forever as I haven’t stepped foot inside RockOut’s offices since the day Ryder announced he’d bought it.
“I’m an idiot. That’s what’s wrong,” I fume, so furious with myself for falling back into Ryder’s arms so easily.
“Hey, don’t cry.” Brody slides his arm around my shoulder, and I lean into him for strength.
“I’m not crying over that jerk,” I say, more for my benefit. “I’ve done enough of that in the past and he’s not worth another single tear.” I push forward, and Brody keeps pace with me, still holding onto me.
“Zeta, wait.” Mike comes up alongside me, casting a wary glance in Brody’s direction. I don’t bother introducing him to my colleague. “Let me drive you back to the penthouse.”
Yeah, as if I’m ever stepping foot in that place again. I open my mouth to protest but think better of it. There’s no way Mike’s going to drive me back to my place or let me leave here alone or with Brody. Whatever instructions Ryder’s given him before tonight clearly prevent him from abandoning me. I quickly concoct a plan of escape. “Okay, thank you.”
“Zeta, I—”
I despise the look of pity on his face, so I cut him off. “Please don’t say it. I just don’t want to hear it.”
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