Page 31 of Crazy for You

Which made her even angrier. If he didn’t want her dating other guys, if he was jealous, then he needed to quit acting like a big baby and do something about it. And if not? He needed to butt the hell out of her dating life and stop acting like an overprotective ogre.

“So what do you like to do for fun?” Cal asked, seemingly willing to ignore the situation with Ryan.

They enjoyed the rest of their meal together, or Cal seemed to anyway. Emma tried her best, but she was completely distracted by Ryan’s presence and the annoying prickle of his gaze on the back of her neck. Which meant she was thinking about Ryan instead of her date, and that was just ridiculous. Next time, she’d insist on going somewhere other than The Drunken Bear.

Maybe a change of scenery would help, or maybe her mind would be on Ryan regardless. And that was pathetic. And it sucked. And it made her want to strangle him…or kiss him…or something.

“This was really nice,” she said as Cal walked her to her car after dinner. She fiddled awkwardly with her keys. Shit. Was he going to try to kiss her? Because…

But Cal shoved his hands in his pockets, offering her an apologetic smile. “I had a great time. And I’d love to give you that tour at Bear Tracks if you’re interested. But before I take you to dinner again, you’ve got to work out whatever’s between you and the bartender.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed hot despite the cool evening breeze. She ducked her head and blew out a breath. “Yes, you’re right. I’m so sorry.”

“No worries,” Cal said, turning to walk away. “Call me if things change.”

“I will. Thanks, Cal.” She got in her car and sat there for a few minutes, fuming. This was so ridiculous. She’d just ruined a perfectly good date with a perfectly nice—and not at all boring—guy because of Ryan.

Ugh.

She thumped her fist against the steering wheel, and then—because clearly she’d lost her mind—she stormed back inside The Drunken Bear, heading straight for the bar. Ryan looked up, the intensity of his gaze slamming into her like a tidal wave.

She walked straight to him, leaning in with her elbows on the bar, so mad she felt like slapping him. “You’re an asshole.”

He blinked, seemingly at an uncharacteristic loss for words. His gaze scorched her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to reach right across the bar and kiss her. But of course, that didn’t happen. Instead, he took a step back, and his gaze shuttered. “You’re right. I am.”

Now she blinked. She’d been itching for a fight, and since he wasn’t giving her one, she had no idea what to do. “Do me a favor and keep your nose out of my dating life from now on.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. But take your next date somewhere else.”

“Oh, that’s a definite.”

“Em—”

“Just don’t, Ryan.” She looked up at the ceiling, mortified to feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Why this man? Of all the men in the world, why this one?

In an instant, his hand snaked out and covered hers. “I’m sorry. Really.” And when she met his gaze, she saw the truth of his words in his eyes. He was sorry, whether for ruining her date or for not dating her himself, she wasn’t sure. In the long run, what did it matter?

Ryan could never be more than her friend, and the sooner she got that message through her thick skull, the better, for everyone involved.

Ryan walked inside The Music Factory at nine o’clock on Tuesday, feeling like he’d just stepped back in time. The place looked exactly the same as it had when he, Ethan, and Mark had frequented the place as teenagers: scuffed wood floors, dim lighting, and techno music pumping, even at this relatively early hour.

He spotted Trent in back, dancing enthusiastically with a group of kids that looked about his age, maybe a little older. At least he was making friends, and they didn’t seem like a bad crowd. And Trent had made a real effort since their chat last week to start pulling his weight at Off-the-Grid.

“Oh my gosh, I haven’t been here in ages,” Emma said from behind him. “It looks exactly the same.”

“Yep,” Ethan agreed.

“I’m not surprised,” Gabby said with a laugh. “This place looks straight out of the nineties.”

“Probably haven’t updated a thing since it opened in the late eighties,” Ethan said, hooking an arm around her shoulder. “Really cool that Trent’s playing here, though.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said.

“You want to dance?” Ethan asked Gabby.

“How about a drink first?” she said. “Emma?”

Emma nodded and followed them toward the bar. Ryan walked toward the back to say hi to his brother. Trent spotted him and gave him a nod. Was it uncool for his thirty-year-old brother to come over? Ryan didn’t care.

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