Rush Into You (2 page)

Any joy I’d allowed myself to feel quickly vanished, and I looked back down to my phone with a sigh. I was angry that I’d gotten my hopes up. He was probably just attempting to play a prank on me — it wouldn’t be the first time that happened, and I hated that I’d let my defenses down so fast. I was more starved for friendly human interaction than I’d thought.

“So…you don’t want a drink then?”

I didn’t bother looking up at him. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, so hurry up and pull your prank, then you can run along.” I tried to make my voice sound bored though I felt nauseous with nerves. I hated confrontation, but if I didn't at least pretend that I was tough, I wouldn’t survive. My happy and carefree days had disappeared five years ago. My biggest problems were no longer perfecting my cheerleading routines and winning debate tournaments. Now I worried about being raped or brutally beaten again.

“Okaaay…” That smooth voice drew out the word, breaking into my thoughts. “Is that how you talk to every bartender who asks what you want, or am I special?”

I put my phone away since I couldn’t concentrate on the game anymore, and looked at him. I didn’t miss the unmistakable flash of confusion that danced across his face before he quickly schooled his features and winked at me.

I had no idea who this guy was or where he had come from. I certainly never saw him working in Max’s. I knew almost everyone in Breckston one way or another, and I would surely remember this tall, tattooed, and lean-muscled man.

We stared at each other in silence, and I took the time to really observe him. He wore a dark-blue Boston Red Sox hat, and the brown hair that was visible beneath was cut close to his scalp in a fade. Sexy stubble covered his cheeks and strong jawline, and the urge to reach out and touch it wasn’t lost on me.

His hypnotic stare that had stolen my breath when we’d first locked eyes was framed within enviously long lashes, their natural beauty balanced by his thick eyebrows. There was a vertical scar slicing down the middle of the left one, and a slight bend on the bridge of his nose that hinted at a past injury. Finding those subtle flaws on this beautiful man made him even more gorgeous. My eyes traveled to his full and firm lips…his mouth begged to be kissed.

His plain white t-shirt left his muscled arms exposed, showing sleeves of artfully designed black ink that covered his skin. It was too dim in the bar for me to really examine his tattoos, but I noticed a random splash of color on the swell of his bicep. I was sure he had more tattoos that I couldn’t see, and I found myself desperate to know what and where they were.

A quick look in the mirror lining the wall in front of me reflected back the greatest ass I had ever seen. A naturally faded pair of jeans hung low on his narrow hips. He must look hot as hell naked. If he took his shirt off right then, I bet I’d see a perfect set of abs and the sexiest V disappearing behind the fabric.

I let myself look back into his eyes, his gaze intent on me.

“Like what you see?” A cocky smirk touched his lips.

Behind his teasing, there was a softness in his eyes that whispered of understanding and patience. The deepness in his stare made me feel as if he were looking into me, not through me. It was different.

And I liked it.

Minutes had passed since this sexy bartender had approached me, and he had plenty of time to make a fool of me, yet he had done nothing. My body relaxed, and my suspicions subsided when I realized he might truly be asking me what I wanted to drink with no hidden agenda.

“What’s…” I cleared my throat. “Sorry. What’s your name?”

He smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “Ryker Rosse. Wanna tell me your poison now?”

“I’ll take a shot of tequila, Ryker. Thank you.” I smiled shyly.

Ryker moved effortlessly behind the bar, selecting the glass bottle of Jose Cuervo from its spot in front of the mirror. He grabbed a shot glass and flipped it in the air, pouring the golden liquid into the tiny cup after he’d caught it.

I reached for the shot when he pushed it closer to me, our fingers touching when he didn’t let go.

“What’s your name?” His magnetic voice was quiet.

I shifted nervously in my seat and looked around at the other patrons. Several pairs of eyes watched us with a mix of confusion and disgust. I knew Ryker had heard my name mentioned among the gossip and would connect the pieces if he hadn’t already.

“Gabriella Carter,” I whispered.

He looked down at our fingers that were still touching around the small glass and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I followed his gaze and was immediately self-conscious of the scars lining my veins. The track marks from countless injections stood out against my ashen skin, and I jerked my hand away from his as if he burned me. The spastic movement knocked the glass over, amber liquid spilling on the counter. Mortified, I attempted to wipe the mess with my flimsy cocktail napkin, but Ryker waved me off and wiped it up with his white rag.

I leaned back from the bar as he cleaned, insecurities bombarding me. I stretched the fabric of my long sleeves down as far as they would go, hiding my scarred hands so only my fingers were visible.

Sitting before this beautiful man, I was acutely aware of my disheveled appearance. I would have fit in with him perfectly several years ago, but drugs had taken their toll on me. My natural bronze skin tone, soft curves, and lustrous hair were long gone, leaving me with a deathly pallor, bony body, and dull hair with atrocious dead ends.

Ryker poured a new shot and gently pushed the tequila closer to me, using just his fingertips. I accepted his silent offer, thankful he chose to ignore my awkwardness. The smooth liquor burned a path down my throat before it settled in my stomach. My face twisted and my body shivered, fighting through the taste. When my body instantly heated, I realized I’d forgotten to eat today.

The sound of Ryker’s rich laughter melted a tiny fragment of ice surrounding my heart, and I wanted to let him squeeze through the necessary walls I’d built to protect myself. A wide smile crept across my face as I listened to his musical voice. His laugh was my new favorite song. I joined in with his contagious laughter, but stopped abruptly. My own laugh sounded foreign to me after years of not finding anything funny.

“Taste good?” Ryker joked, referring to the face I made while taking the shot.

“I’m sorry for how I spoke to you earlier, that was rude of me. I just…” I paused, not knowing how much to reveal to this relative stranger, “I thought you were messing with me. No one has ever bothered to ask what I want to drink.”

Ryker pointed to the empty bottle of beer in front of me, his scarred eyebrow raised in question.

“I’m lucky he serves me this.” I shrugged. “I don’t even like beer.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth opened as if he were going to say something, but he shook his head and gazed at the floor. When he looked up, his handsome features were twisted in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I was taken aback by his reaction, and confused by his intensity. “I’ll drink it, but I prefer hard liquor.”

“No, I mean why won’t anyone give you proper service?”

I didn’t want to answer him. I was enjoying our time together — even if it were more staring than talking. If he found out the real reason everyone hated me, he was bound to hate me as well, and I wasn’t ready for that to happen.

I shrugged, ducking my head slightly so that my long hair fell over my face in a protective shield. He was going to know I was holding the truth from him, but I didn’t want to see his face when he realized it.

“Shit, you’re serious.” Ryker’s tone was soft. He gripped the back of his neck and lifted his head as if he were seeking answers from the heavens. “Okay. Okay…I think it’s only fair that I welcome you to the bar properly since these assholes obviously haven’t.”

Ryker grabbed a clean glass and added a scoop of ice before filling it to the top with Coke. He poured more tequila into my shot glass and handed it to me with a smile.

A warm, fluttery feeling tickled my belly, and I almost melted. “How come I’ve never seen you here before?” I blurted.

“I work at a different bar about twenty minutes from here. Sometimes I help out at different places when they are short staffed, and I got sent here as a favor tonight. The money’s good…the company better.” He winked.

My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth to respond but closed it again. I didn’t know what to say to that.

Ryker nodded at my shot as he reached for his Coke. Lifting his glass, his unblinking blue and gold eyes pinned me with their fire. I squirmed slightly on the wooden barstool, his intense focus making me nervous. Several rapid heartbeats later, his dropped voice rang clear in my ears, “To worthy women.”

All the air rushed from my lungs in surprise. I was completely caught off guard by his toast and didn’t know what to say. He took a sip of his drink and eyed me expectantly, waiting for me to take my own shot. I knew I wasn’t a worthy woman, but I reluctantly tipped the glass back and relished the burn spreading through my chest. I didn’t make any embarrassing faces this time since my tastebuds were a bit numb from my earlier beer and shot, but Ryker still wore a bright smile when I looked at him.

“Thanks. A year later, and I finally get my welcome and some proper service.” I shook my head.

Ryker’s husky chuckle made my lower body clench with desire. I’d never had that kind of reaction to a man’s laugh before. My body felt warm to the touch, and I knew the alcohol was working its way through my bloodstream and loosening me up.

He braced his strong arms on the bar and leaned into my space. I found myself leaning closer as well, eager to hear his next words. He tentatively reached out and swept my hair behind my ear. “You have the most beautiful eyes.”

I smiled as a blush heated my cheeks. “Thank you,” I muttered awkwardly.

Spending the past five years isolated from the world, with the exception of drug dealers and prison inmates had really damaged my social skills. Long gone was the confident and popular girl. Now, I was socially awkward and hated.

It had been too long since someone was nice to me, and although I was suspicious at first, it felt good talking to Ryker. Within minutes of meeting him, he’d found a way through my protective layers and into the normal girl I kept locked within. He found the girl who used to smile and laugh.

I didn’t think he would have been as welcoming and understanding if he knew the girl he was talking to was locked inside the body of a heroin addict and murderer.

“I NEED TO lock up the bar.” Ryker jingled his keys.

I glanced behind me at the old Miller Light clock that hung high on the wood paneled wall. I was surprised to find an exact replica of the clock placed right beside it, and wondered what the purpose of it being there was. It was hard enough trying to concentrate on one clock when the hands and numbers kept shifting and floating. I shook my head, and this time I only saw one clock.

“What time is it?” I slurred, and laughed at how drunk I sounded.

“Almost two.” Ryker gestured to my tequila. “Finish that up.”

“Sure thing, sir,” I teased. I kept eye contact with him while sucking my fourth shot of the night back, allowing myself to be a bit daring. I fantasized about going home with him, wanting to know how his body would feel on top of mine. My hormones always went haywire when I got drunk, and it had been a long time since I’d felt buzzed. Plus, I’d just spent my night talking to arguably the sexiest and nicest man in existence, and I knew that would never happen again.

Our conversation had distracted me from my depressing thoughts and feelings. For a few hours, I stopped thinking about all the ways I’d fucked up in life. I was just a regular girl talking to a guy about regular things. I almost felt normal. Nothing felt forced between us, and I didn’t want the night to end yet. I wanted to forget who I was for just a little longer before I had to return to my sorry excuse of a life.

I stood up for the first time since I started drinking, and wobbled. I threw my arms out to steady myself, overwhelmed with dizziness from the spinning room, and my hand collided with a brick wall. I trailed my fingers down the wall, surprised with the soft fabric covering it.

Ryker’s hand covered mine. “You okay?”

I turned towards his voice and realized my hand was resting on his chest, not a brick wall. Wow. He was strong. He now wore a black leather jacket over his white tee, and he looked sexy as hell. My lower belly flipped with desire in response.

I nodded, not able to form a coherent response when my entire being was zeroed in on the feel of his hand still gripping mine. I followed shakily behind him through the dim bar, trying to maintain my balance and keep my rapidly beating heart inside my chest.

The humidity from earlier in the day vanished, and the cool night felt refreshing. The crisp air cooled my overheated cheeks, and cleared a bit of the fuzz from my drunken mind.

We stood quietly in the parking lot as I rummaged for my cigarettes in my purse to busy myself and avoid the silence. I placed the menthol between my lips as I searched for my matches.