Page 41 of Riding the Storm
Bryce rolls his eyes as he sets my cocktail in front of me.
I look up at him, a smile tugging at my mouth. “I do believe it is.”
Shelby whistles low. “Lord help us, he’s hot.” She feigns fanning herself.
“Shelby,” I warn.
“What? He is. Don’t tell me you don’t see it. Just ask them,” she says, gesturing to the girls dancing right in front of our table.
The wannabe cowgirl from earlier is in the middle. Her eyes on Bryce.
Harleigh grins. “Oh, they see it all right.”
I glare at both of them, but they’re laughing now, giggling like little sisters who have my number and aren’t afraid to use it.
Cabe, sitting on the other side of the table, raises his beer and mutters, “You girls are a damn headache. Ignore them, Ry.”
Shelby sticks her tongue out at him.
“Headache,” he repeats.
I shake my head, trying to focus on anything else—Wildhaven Junction, the taste of my cocktail, the chatter of voices. But my gaze betrays me, drifting back toward the woman still staring a hole through us.
Bryce gives her a smile, but he isn’t making any move to join her. In fact, he shifts back, just an inch, standing behind my stool like he’s keeping his distance.
And for some reason, that tiny move makes something in my chest unclench.
He doesn’t seem into her. Not really.
He’s famous. Women probably line up for the chance to get close to him all the time. And he has to be polite. Right?
Caison stands and walks over to Bryce’s side, asking him about riding Midnight Storm, and they fall into conversation.
The girls continue to dance right on top of us through the next song, and I’m sitting here, pretending it doesn’t bother me.
Matty leans over from her seat. “You look like you’re about to pick a fight, Charli.”
I blink. “What?”
She tilts her head toward them. “You’ve got that look. The one you get when you’re about to make a very bad decision.”
I huff. “I do not. I’m fine.”
She gives me the glare—the one that says she’s seen through my lies since I was five. “You sure about that? What’s wrong?”
I grab another shot glass and suck it back just to have something todo with my hands. “We’re here to celebrate your birthday. And the only thing wrong is, I’m the lone one drinking.”
Her eyes soften, and she reaches for a shot.
I relax as I watch her swallow it down because tonight is about her and nothing is wrong.
Because I don’t want Bryce.
Not really.
It’s just … I don’t want her to have him.
Bryce’s hand rests on the back of my stool as he chats with Caison, and his pinkie grazes the back of my neck.
