Page 38 of Forbidden Puck
We made small talk and joked around until our server came by with the bill. I grabbed the check and paid it and left a generous tip.
“Thanks for dinner, Ryan.”
“My pleasure. I'm glad I could get you out of the house.”
“Me too.” She gave a gracious smile. “Are you off to meet your next cut of meat now?”
“Whatever.”
I checked my watch. I still had some time to kill until midnight, when I was going to meet Kara at Regret. I could see if some of the boys were around and if they wanted to meet up until then. Or …
Hell, why not ask Ella if she wants to come? We're already downtown. She doesn't have anything else to do.
“You wanna come with me to Regret? I'm not supposed to meet Kara for another hour or so.”
“As long as you promise I won'tregretit,” she said in that over-the-top manner that said sheknewthat her pun was atrocious.
“Ba-dum-tssh. But hey, no promises.”
We left the restaurant. Outside, I hailed a cab and opened the door for Ella. I slid in after her, and the two of us sped off for Regret.
Chapter 12
Club Regret
Ella
Regret.
Ryan Ryder and I were in the back of a cab, zipping through downtown Boston, heading to a club called Regret.
Hilarious.
I'm not one to be too superstitious, but it sure seemed like a bad omen. Like something out there was lurking in wait for us. Would we run into Lance at the club? Would he flip his shit, automatically assuming Radar and I were up to no good with each other?
Whatever.After what Lance did with Quinn, and the trouble he caused me? He didn't have any right to be upset just because I hung out with his teammate. Lance was the one who bailed on me in the first place, after all.
Besides, I knewnothingcould possibly happen between Ryan and I. Especially after I told him I was a virgin; the look on his face all but confirmed it. He looked likeallthe other guys did when I told them, like I just hit them in the gut with a two-ton weight and their world had ended.
On one hand, I wanted to smack Ryan. Why would it matter to him? It shouldn't matter at all! We said we weren't interested in each other!
But on the other hand, there was a part of myself that was deeply satisfied. Especially when Ryan got all mad and huffy, with his giant chest puffing up, when I told him about Matthew. That made me so warm and happy inside …
That's when I realized it: I wanted Ryan to like me.
IwantedRyan to like me, for some reason, even if he fit the cheesy, sleazy hockey player mold to a T. I didn't get it. In his favor, he was acting like a perfect gentleman all night, and I enjoyed getting to know the quiet tough-guy a little bit better.
Then again—I guess a perfect gentleman wouldn'tbe heading out to meet a one-night-stand. But that wasn't surprising, given what I knew about hockey players. And he was honest and upfront about it, so it didn't feel right to judge him for it.
And I guess, technically speaking, a 'perfect gentleman' wouldn't be stealing the occasional peek at my chest.That's right, Radar, I caught you looking—more than once.
Not that I minded too much. Because hey, he's a guy. A hockey playing guy, at that. And when a guy sees breasts, he's just not in control of himself. Right? When a girl offers even a hint of cleavage, guys just have this overwhelming biological drive to look. It doesn't mean that they're even attracted to her, really. He just has to look every so often to make sure that a girl's breasts haven't jumped off her chest and run off, or something. Becausetits.
I don't know, I'm just rambling. I have no idea what goes through a guy's caveman brain when he sees a pair of breasts. All I know is that Radar said I'm not his type, and I'll have to take his word for that …
AndIsaid that he wasn't my type, too. Actually, I said it first! Yet he's tall and devilishly handsome, broad-shouldered, sharply-dressed yet rough around the edges in all the right ways—
And I said he's not my type.
