Page 11 of The Single Dads Club
“Sure. Is Ryleigh working today?”
The blonde nods. “I’ll seat you in her section. Right this way.”
Frustration blooms inside my gut as I follow her through the bar and toward the back where high-top tables and booths wait, mostly empty at this time of day. The walls are painted black, and red silk sheets hang from the ceiling, dividing off the space. Deep, seductive bass music thumps softly in the background.
After sitting in one side of the booth and accepting the menu, I still haven’t spotted Ryleigh. The hostess flounces away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Part of me knows I shouldn’t be here, but the other part of me won’t be satisfied until I see her.
I thought I was prepared to see her again ... until Ryleigh turns the corner and steps into my line of sight. What I wasn’t prepared for is the heavily made-up version of Ryleigh wearing nothing but a tiny pair of glittery booty shorts. My heart begins beating like a snare drum inside my chest. Fuck.
She stops in her tracks when she sees me, her eyes widening almost comically large, and something inside me twists.
For a second I think she’s going to run and hide, or at least try to cover herself. But then Ryleigh finds her composure, straightens her shoulders, and moves toward me.
As she struts closer, my mouth goes dry and my cock twitches in my pants. Her skin looks so soft and creamy, and her hair is flowing in loose waves down to her shoulders. Her breasts are perfect, not too large, but a nice handful that my palms ache to touch. Her nipples are tight and blush pink, and I want my mouth all over them. Now.
When she stops beside my table, I’m so hard and also so irritated that I’ve forgotten how to speak. The tiny shorts she’s wearing are basically just a pair of panties, and there’s some kind of delicate chain necklace thing around her hips. It’s distracting as fuck.
“What can I get you?” she purrs, her voice low and seductive.
What the hell? Why is she acting like we’ve never met?
“I came to check on you,” I say, my voice coming out too tight. “You okay?”
She bats her dark eyelashes. “Just peachy.”
“Did your heat come back on?” I ask, straight to the point.
An annoyed look flashes across Ryleigh’s face, and then she smiles at me again, only this time it doesn’t reach her eyes, which have turned an icy shade of blue. “That’s not for you to worry about, Alexei. I’m not a charity case, and despite what you witnessed last night, I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself. Now, would you like to order lunch or not?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the tone of her voice. “Sure. Bring me a burger, please. Salad on the side. And a couple glasses of ice water.”
“Right away, sir,” Ryleigh says before strutting away, her shapely ass taunting me as she leaves.
I squeeze my eyes closed and huff out a sigh. It’s a strange and unexpected reaction, but it makes me angry to see her here like this, knowing that any Tom, Dick, or Harry can walk in here and get an eyeful of her. I knew she worked here when we met, so I have no idea why it’s suddenly giving me heartburn to see her in this environment. She’s beautiful and almost naked, and it’s pissing me right the fuck off.
Soon, she delivers two glasses of ice water, and I waste no time in drinking one of them in three big gulps. I’m usually dehydrated after such an intense workout and practice, but I’m pretty sure this is me attempting to quench my thirst for something else.
Without another word, Ryleigh turns to go again.
“Wait,” I say, setting down the water as calmly as I can.
“Yes?” Her tone is clipped.
“How’s Ella? Is she with your neighbor?”
Ryleigh nods. “She’s fine, Alexei. Please stop worrying about us.”
The way she says my name is too intimate, like we’ve known each other for years rather than less than twenty-four hours, like we’re lovers and not virtual strangers. I like the sound of it way too much.
Ryleigh turns away to head back toward the kitchen, as if on a mission to get away from me as quickly as possible.
The next time she comes by my table, it’s to deliver my food, which she does without a word. Normally, I’m ravenous after practice. Today, I barely manage to take a few bites before I push my plate away.
I hate that she has to work here where strange men look at her. I hate that her apartment is in a neighborhood that’s so unsafe I don’t even want to walk around there alone. I hate that her roommate gave her more to worry about and take care of when she left Ella there with nothing.
Scrubbing my hands through my hair, I rise from my seat. I dig out my wallet and toss down a couple of bills, enough to cover my meal plus a $100 tip.
