Resisting Ryder

by Blakeley Wilde

  It seemed like it took forever for the plane to come to a stop, and then it took forever for the passengers to file off the plane in an orderly fashion. Everyone was bumping into one another, grunting and groaning, stretching, and taking up valuable aisle space, so Stormy just waited patiently until the last person passed her. When the aisles were finally clear, she grabbed her carry on and exited the aircraft.

  As she walked through the terminals and out past the security check point, her eyes scanned the crowds of people for Ryder’s familiar face. She hoped he hadn’t forgotten about her. She would be mortified if he did. She should have asked him what he was wearing that day, but she knew it wouldn’t be hard to pick him out of a crowd.

  “Stormy!” she heard a voice call out behind her. She had walked right past him.

  “Hey!” she said, her face all lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “I was getting worried. Your plane landed a half hour ago,” he said. He put his arm around her like some kind of kid sister which instantly put the kibosh on that big bear hug she wanted.

  “It was a pretty full flight. People were nuts. I just waited for everyone to get off first,” she said.

  “That’s cute,” he laughed. “This is the big city, kid. Get used to it.”

  He kept his arm around her protectively as they walked towards the baggage claim area.

  “Let me take that,” he said as he grabbed her carry-on bag. His biceps flexed as he hoisted it over his left shoulder. His hair was slightly longer than last time, parted on the side and slicked down with brill cream, just like Jett used to do. He looked more like Jett than ever before.

  Stormy spotted her bag coming around on the carousel. “There it is. The one with the red ribbon on the handle.”

  Ryder, like a true gentleman, ran after it and pulled it off before it got any further away. He pulled the handle up and wheeled it over as the loose wheels click-clacked against the tile floor.

  “I’m parked out there,” he nodded outside to the short-term parking area. Stormy followed him, letting him lead the way.

  She had never seen so many people in one place before. The sheer number of taxis, shuttle busses, and luxury imports in the pick-up lane was enough to blow her away. She tried to take in her surroundings, but she was afraid to take her eyes off Ryder for one second in fear of getting lost.

  They navigated their way through the sea of tourists and Californians as they made it to his parking spot. He clicked a button on the remote and the trunk of a red Audi convertible popped open. He loaded her things and then hopped in the car.

  “Is this your car?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I mostly ride my bike, but I’ve got this thing for special occasions.”

  She climbed in and her jeans slid against the buttery leather. As he cracked the windows and pulled out of the parking garage, she stared out the window in awe of palm tree after palm tree that passed them by.

  He merged onto the freeway and traffic was bumper-to-bumper as far as her eyes could see.

  “Wow,” she said. “How do you get used to this kind of traffic? This is insane.”

  “You just get used to it,” he laughed. “We should be back to my place in about thirty minutes.”

  Stormy sat quietly in the car as Ryder steered his way through the stop and go traffic congestion. He turned the radio on after a bit to fill the silence. She just wanted to take in her surroundings, and for a split second she was starting to miss the comfort of Coleville.

  Stop it, she told herself. You can’t stay in Coleville forever. Give this place a chance.

  “So where do you live out here?” she asked.

  “I live in East LA,” he said. “I have a condo. And a roommate.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had a roommate,” she said. She hoped to God it wasn’t a girl, especially not Veronica.

  “His name is Zander. He’s kind of my right hand guy,” he said. “He’s a bit of a wild card. You’ve been warned.”

  “I’ve got one of those,” Stormy laughed. “Her name is Brooklyn. She’s kind of crazy, but I love her anyway.”

  “So did you have anything you wanted to do or see while you’re in town?” he asked as he checked his mirror and switched lanes. His driving was a little scary and aggressive compared to what Stormy was used to back home. She couldn’t help but to grip handle on the inside of the door.

  “I was hoping you’d just take me under your wing and show me around,” she said. “I just wanted to get out of Coleville.”

  “You got it,” he said with a smile. She could tell he enjoyed this.

  They finally arrived in East LA, and he pulled into an underground parking garage into a reserved spot. He grabbed her things from his trunk and headed to an elevator as she traipsed behind him. The neighborhood seemed a little sketchy, but the building looked newer. She felt safe with him though.

  They road up to the fourth floor where he walked down to the unit at the end of the hall.

  “Home, sweet home,” he said as he unlocked the heavy door and swung it open.

  The place was massive. Stormy was expecting some tiny, hole-in-the-wall apartment. She knew living in L.A. wasn’t cheap, but this defied all of her expectations. The ceilings were sky high and the floor plan was wide open. The colors were neutral and the acid-stained concrete floors were flawless and so shiny she could see her reflection in them. Floor to ceiling windows lined the far living room wall and the place was immaculate. She couldn’t find a speck of dust or a stray shoe anywhere.

  She stood in amazement at his gorgeous condo. It was straight out of a movie scene.

  “Did you decorate this place yourself?” she asked as she took in the industrial paintings that adorned the walls and the giant ceramic pieces that seemed to be placed ever so perfectly in various places. The place was easily fit for a king – or a VP of a prominent biker gang.

  “Oh, God, no,” Ryder laughed. “Zander used to date this one chick. I think she was a set designer or something? We basically let her have free reign of decorating this place. Not too bad, eh?”

  “That makes sense,” she smiled. “Your place looks like it’s straight off of a movie set or something. I guess I never thought a biker like you would live in such a palace.”

  “I told you, I’m also a businessman. I sort of have to have one foot in each world, straddling both lifestyles,” he explained. “That, and I have an appreciation for the finer things given how I grew up. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

  Stormy stood, cemented in her place, as she yearned for him to give her a tour. She was dying to see the rest of the place. Ryder parked her suitcase next to the door.

  “So down that hall over there is Zander’s area,” he said pointing to his right, just beyond the living room.

  Stormy was curious about this Zander guy. She wondered if he was even home since the place was so quiet.

  “Over to the left is my side of the place,” he said as he pointed just past the kitchen. “We each have our own suites.”

  “Pretty neat,” Stormy said for lack of something better to say. “Where am I sleeping?”

  “You can sleep in my room,” he said, not missing a beat. “I’ll take the couch.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “I can sleep on the couch.”

  “Nope,” he said. “You’re my guest. Plus, I really don’t want to subject you to seeing Zander walking around in the morning in his underwear chomping and smacking on his bowl of Fruity Pebbles. You’ll thank me later.”

  Stormy laughed.

  “Who’s this?” she heard another guy’s voice say from behind her.

  “Zander, meet Stormy,” Ryder said.

  Zander looked Stormy up and down, blatantly checking her out before extending his right hand.

  “What’s up?” he said. His blond hair was buzzed short, and he had tattoos on his neck. He wore a tight t-shirt emblazoned with some bar logo and low-rise straight cut jeans. He seemed like someo
ne Brooklyn would go for. Stormy stifled a half smile as she thought about what Brooklyn would think of him. She’d probably make fun of him and then jump his bones later when no one was watching.

  “Stormy’s staying with me for the weekend,” Ryder said.

  “You’re not from around here?” Zander seemed confused.

  “No, remember? This is my brother’s wife,” he replied.

  “Oh,” Zander said, his face turning white for a split second.

  “My late brother,” Ryder said. “You never met him.”

  Zander shrugged and then proceeded to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Fiji water from the refrigerator.

  “A bunch of us are going out to the Crow’s Nest tonight,” Zander said as he slurped his water. “You two wanna join?”

  “It’s up to Stormy,” Ryder said with raised eyebrows. “We’re doing whatever she wants.”

  Stormy instinctively wanted to decline at first. She knew what happened at biker bars and how crazy things could get, and she didn’t come here to meet new people. She didn’t want to stand out in the city full of big-breasted blondes. She just wanted to talk to Ryder and get to know him better. She wanted some one-on-one time with him, but then again she didn’t want to seem weird or unfriendly. She wanted to prove to him that she could try new things and have fun, as much as she really didn’t want to.

  “Yeah, sounds fun,” she lied. She plastered the biggest, fakest smile on her face that she could muster while she made a mental note to herself to Google “The Crow’s Nest” the next chance she got.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ryder brought them home from the biker bar around eleven. Stormy had spent the entire evening swallowing her pride and chasing it down with glass after glass of cheap draft beer. There were about seventeen people in their group that night, most of whom were men. The two girls with them were friendly enough. They didn’t make Stormy feel too out of place, and they even complimented her hair.

  Ryder introduced her as his new girlfriend so as not to raise any suspicions. The group treated her like gold, as they dared not cross the VP in any way. He was still hopeful that she’d be willing to go along with his little plan to find out which of his men killed Jett.

  Stormy was hammered. Ryder wrapped one arm around her as he led her through the parking garage, to the elevator, and then down the hall to his place. Through her drunken stupor, she knew she was coming across as a bumbling, giggly idiot to him, but she didn’t care. The alcohol took away her ability to care about what other people thought of her, if only for a short while.

  As she stumbled in the door, he pulled her over towards the kitchen island where he propped her up onto a bar stool.

  “Sit here,” he said. He fished around in the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade. “Drink this.”

  “I’m so not thirsty right now,” Stormy giggled. “Seriously. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

  “You need some electrolytes,” he insisted. “You’re going to feel like crap tomorrow. Your whole Saturday will be wasted. You won’t want to do anything. Seriously, just do what I say.”

  “You’re a little bossy, Ry,” she smirked. “I kind of like it.”

  He rolled his eyes as he shoved the bottler closer to her.

  “Why did you drink so much tonight?” he asked. He was clearly upset, and the alpha male in him was coming out to play.

  “Did I embarrass you?” she asked in response.

  “No, not at all,” he said. “My men, they think you’re a cool chick. I just don’t know why you needed to drink four or five glasses of beer. Just seemed a little excessive.”

  “I guess I was nervous to meet everyone,” she said.

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “First of all, I wouldn’t let you meet my friends if you weren’t a nice person, and second of all, I don’t hang out with assholes and douche bags, so you had nothing to be nervous about. Third of all, there’s a hierarchy in our club. If you’re with me, you get treated like me. They know that.”

  He had a point.

  “Well, I know that now,” she said in a sing-song voice. She began sliding back and forth and side to side on the bar stool.

  “Stop that. You’re going to fall off and hurt yourself.”

  Stormy turned side to side even faster. The room was spinning, and she felt so free. Within seconds, and just as Ryder had predicted, she lost her footing and fell off the bar stool. She was about to smack her head on the floor before he swooped in and caught her.

  “Ow,” she whined as she rubbed her knee.

  “God, you are so hard headed,” he huffed. “Let’s move you over here.”

  Both of his arms were wrapped around her as he led her to the couch in the living room and sat her down as gently as he could.

  “Stormy, I need you to tell me if you have to throw up, okay?” he said as he gave her a stern look.

  Stormy laughed as she burrowed herself deep into the downy cushions and made herself comfortable. She stared out the floor to ceiling windows and admired all the twinkling city lights that shined in.

  “I could never get sick of this view,” she sighed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  The wine was starting to wear off, and she was beginning to feel somewhat normal again. She was grateful that in the dimly lit condo, he wouldn’t be able to see how bad she was blushing and inwardly cringing. She knew her behavior was beyond juvenile. The sweet girl he’d met in Coleville a couple weeks ago was shaking her head on the inside.

  “I’m sorry I drank so much,” she said as she sat up and faced Ryder.

  “I get it,” he said.

  “God, you look so much like Jett.” She changed the subject yet again. As he sat across from her on the love seat next to the big windows, she could have sworn he was Jett. It had been a few days since she had last cried, but sitting just mere feet from his doppelganger brought out every emotion she’d been trying to stuff deep down inside the last week.

  It was probably the beer talking, but she just wanted to kiss Ryder. She wanted to feel his lips pressed against hers, to see if he would feel like Jett or taste like Jett. She wanted to feel the heat of his body close to hers so she could close her eyes and pretend she was loved by someone special once again.

  “Why are you looking at me that way?” Ryder asked, disrupting her train of thought.

  Stormy shook her head. “Sorry. Got lost in my own head.”

  She hoped that he hadn’t seen her misty eyes in that moment but she was sure he had.

  He stood up and walked over to where she was sitting and took a seat next to her. Her heart began to pound as she wondered what he was doing. Was he going to try to kiss her? She could only hope.

  She sat up and leaned in closer to him, but she didn’t want to get too close. If anything was going to happen that night, she wanted him to be the one to initiate it.

  He reached his hand up and tucked a curly tendril of her long, dark hair behind her ear. He studied her face, his eyes glazing over every inch of it, and he swallowed loudly. Stormy felt her lips part a little bit as she waited for his kiss. Their faces were so close, she could feel his breath on hers. Her heart was thumping in her ears, and her palms were sweaty against her jeans.

  “You’re so beautiful, Stormy,” he said. “Jett was so lucky to have you.”

  He leaned away from her and in an instant the magnetic pull was gone. She sighed and threw herself back onto the couch. She told herself she was silly to even think for one moment that anything could or should happen between them.

  “You should probably go to bed,” he said. “Let me help you.”

  “I don’t need your help,” she said as she stumbled up and grabbed the edge of the couch for balance.

  Ryder followed her anyway and grabbed the crook of her elbow as he led her to his room. He switched on a dim lamp by his bed and threw back the sheets and covers. His king sized bed was covered in a million pillows, red satin sheets, and a thick, down-filled duvet.
She couldn’t imagine having all that space to herself but she was about to.

  She unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down as Ryder pretended not to look. She pulled off her blouse, revealing a thin camisole, and then climbed under the covers. As soon as she was covered up, Ryder sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I feel like I should be reading you a bed time story or something,” he joked.

  “I’ve always loved The Three Little Pigs,” she giggled.

  He lingered there for a moment with his eyes locked on hers.

  “You know, I’m not really that tired yet,” she said. “I mean, I am, but I always have a hard time sleeping in strange places. Will you stay and talk to me until I fall asleep?”

  Ryder’s face lit up a little, although he probably didn’t realize it.

  “Of course,” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”

  Stormy bit her lip as she knew what she wanted to talk about, but she wasn’t sure if it was the right time to bring any of it up.

  “Why do you think Jett never told me about you?”

  “This conversation is really heavy for this time of night,” Ryder changed the subject. “Can we talk about something else?”

  Ryder stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I lay here for a bit?”

  “No, not at all,” Stormy said. She was secretly glad he was making himself comfortable around her again. “Just stay on your side, buster.”

  Ryder grabbed the mountain of pillows and arranged them between the two of them.

  “Does that make you more comfortable?” he teased.

  He laid on his side and propped his head up in his hands as he stared at her. His eyes traced the outline of her body under the covers, and the pale light from the lamp illuminated her pretty face.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Stormy asked. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “I’m not,” he lied. “I’m not looking at you in any certain kind of way.”