Page 13 of Ryder

She shrugs. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Maybe on her side of town. They say the grass isn’t always greener, but that’s a load of shit.

Her friend tugs at her again and I take her in one last time for old time’s sake.

“Dance with me?” She stands.

I laugh. “Not on your life.”

Crystal huffs.“Don’t go anywhere,” she says. “I’ll be right back.”

She turns, and though I try not to fixate my gaze on her ass, it’s impossible.

I can’t help but snicker to myself. Still the same bossy little brat, not much has changed there.

But I need to get the fuck out of here.

It seems Crystal may be the only one around here to keep her fucking promises.

3

CRYSTAL

I stareup at the clubhouse gates. Okay, there’s no getting in here unless I use my powers of persuasion.

Ryder isn’t answering his phone, and he didn’t wait for me to finish my dance. I figure he owes me a birthday wish, and I’m here to collect. Really, it’s the least he could do for basically ghosting me the last five years. I sent him texts for years, and he never responded. Maybe once, just after he left, but after that, it was radio silence. I know Ryder wanted me to forget about him, to go on living my life, but that was extremely difficult given the reason he got kicked out of our house.

Now I’m here, I’d better do something about getting inside because I didn’t haul my cookies all the way over here in the dead of night to stare at a gate.

I press the intercom. It takes three tries before someone answers.

“Hello?” I say when someone grunts something intelligible into the speaker. “I’m here to see Ryder.”

“Who?”

“Ryder!”

“Who’s askin’?”

“A friend.” I roll my eyes. What the hell are they doing in there that’s so secretive anyway? I mean, a biker clubhouse isn’t exactly where I saw myself spending tonight, but there are things to say. We’re not done. I wasn’t even mad at him for not texting me back all those times, and I want him to know that deep down, I still care for him. Even though I’m in Arizona, and he’s here.

“Name?”

“Crystal. He’s expecting me.” Okay, that’s a lie, and I had to text Torin to ask him the address. He was still at the club, so essentially yes, I ditched my friends.

A few moments later, the gates begin to open and I slide through. I don’t get very far. A man wearing a cut-off motorcycle jacket with the word ‘Prospect’ on the front left pocket stops me. Underneath that his name reads: Jett. He’s cute, but not my type.

“You Crystal?”

“Who else?” I snark.

He rubs his chin, not hiding his amusement. “You really gonna waltz in there like that?” He notions to the wings.

“Why not? I can take care of myself.”

His eyebrows pique. “This I gotta see.”

I point toward where the loud music is coming from. “I take it Ryder's in there?”

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