Page 32 of Ryder

Deanna snorts. “You’re probably right. So what gives? What’s up his ass?”

“Nothing. We’re not a thing. I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

Deanna wasn’t in New Orleans for my birthday, so I haven’t filled her in on what happened. I kinda wanted to keep it to myself for a little longer. I don’t know why. Maybe not saying it out loud makes it last longer in my head, where no one can touch.

I sigh.

“O. M. G. You did, didn’t you?” She claps her hands together.

“It just happened,” I admit. “And he’s not just good in bed, D, he’s funny, sweet and kind.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“Well, let’s start with the most obvious one: he’s in an MC. Not exactly the kind of guy you bring home to Mom and Dad. Speaking of which, my parents hate him and my dad punched him out when I was sixteen.” I wave a hand at her. “Long story for another day. Even if I did want to pursue him, he LIVES IN NEW ORLEANS!”

Of course, typical Deanna doesn’t see the issue. “So? Does he feel the same way?”

I snort. “Of course not. He’s not going to wait for me to finish school. You should see the way women look at him, D. He’s always been blessed with a baby face, and this whole thing, you know, where women just want to save him.”

“Like you?” She pops an eyebrow.

I huff. “No. Not like me. I’ve never wanted to fix Ryder. He’s perfect the way he is.”

“Speaking of which.” She talks behind the back of her hand. “That guy over there is staring at you.”

I follow her gaze and for a second, my heart leaps. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a patch. But it’s not Ryder. It’s also not anyone I know, and I can’t see from here what the patch reads. I know it doesn’t sayRyder, but a part of me wished it did.

Maybe that’s exactly what I need? Another guy to help get over the current one who doesn’t want me? That’s not really using someone if they’re not serious. If my heart isn’t in it, it doesn’t count, right?

“What club is he with?”

“I’ve no idea,” Deanna whispers. “But he looks like trouble, forget I said?—”

“Maybe we should have a drink? You’re only just done telling me how I need to get out more and meet someone else.”

“Yeah, but maybe not a guy from an MC we’ve never heard of.”

I sweep my eyes sideways. “Do you know him?”

“No, but I know he’s a one percenter. Check out the patch under his name.”

I know what that means, and it’s bad news. Still, there’s something about this guy, now that I’ve got a better look, that spells dangerous.

He’s good looking, with disheveled brown hair and dark eyes. Deanna’s right; he does look like bad news. Maybe that’s a good thing, or maybe it’s playing with fire.

I don’t want another biker. I want him.

I take a sip of the beer as he watches me, refusing to look away first. He has that whole bad boy vibe going on, and itoccurs to me he’s probably at this bar — that mainly caters to college students — looking for nothing but a good time.

He’s not Ryder.

No, he’s not, but Ryder isn’t here. Ryder will probably never be here.

And that’s something I have to learn to live with.

7

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