She blows me a kiss, and she spins on her heels and heads upstairs.
I take another sip of my drink, letting out a long breath. It’s not like anything will happen with Ryan, anyway. A part of me thought he’d see me and feel like he made a mistake setting that one-time rule. But I was just being delusional. He doesn’t need me. He never did. He’s got his pick of girls—girls who don’t come with complications, who he can hook up with without consequences.
It doesn’t matter how much I want to be the one to catch his attention. It doesn’t matter what I thought we had. I’m just another girl, fading into the background like every other one before me.
I take a deep breath, trying to force my mind onto something—anything—other than Ryan and the damn knot forming in my stomach. I focus on the ice in my cup, the way it clinks together as I stir it absently. Anything but the sick feeling in my chest.
But then I glance around, and my gaze drifts back to the spot where he was just standing.
He’s gone.
And so are the girls.
The empty space gnaws at me for a second before my stomach twists even tighter. Did he leave with them? Of course,he did. Why wouldn’t he? I’m not what he’s looking for. I was just a momentary distraction.
Swallowing hard, I try to push the lump in my throat away, but it doesn’t work. The ache doesn’t stop.
But just as I’m about to give in to the bitter wave of self-pity crashing over me, someone tugs at my wrist.
21
RYAN
Isabella gasps as I grab her wrist, pulling her through the crowded hallway. The music pounds around us, people laughing, shouting, but it all blurs into the background, drowned out by the pounding in my chest. All I can focus on is her. The way her dress hugs her body, teasing me with every step, the way her dark curls bounce against her shoulders like they were made to be wrapped around my fingers.
Fuck, she looks perfect.
Gorgeous, with a trim waist and hips that make it impossible to think straight. My fingers tighten around her wrist as I push forward.
We reach the bathroom, and I shove the door open with my foot, pulling her inside. Her chest rises and falls, her eyes flicking up to mine—unsure, excited, nervous.
“Ryan?” she breathes.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. My pulse is a wreck. My hands shake. I lock the door because I need to, because if I don’t, I’ll second-guess it, and I can’t second-guess this.
“I tried to stay away from you.” My voice comes out rough, low. I swallow hard. “I fuckingtried, Isabella. But I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”
Her lips part slightly, and I watch as her breath catches. I know what she tastes like, and every inch of me aches to kiss her, to feel her lips on mine again.
“I thought you said it was just a one-time thing,” she whispers.
I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, well. That was a dumb fucking idea.”
My gaze drags down her body, and my restraint starts slipping. The dress—fuck, the dress. It’s too short, too tight, riding up her thighs like it’s trying to kill me.
“One time isn’t enough.” I grit out, reaching for her, because I can’t spend another second without my hands on her. “Not even fucking close.”
Before she can respond, I grab her hips and lift her onto the counter. Her legs part instinctively, and I step between them, my body pressing into hers. Our breaths mingle, her pupils dilate, her lips part slightly and before I fucking know it, my mouth is on hers.
Oh fuck, I missed this. Missed her. Christ, kissing this woman is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Her mouth tastes like vodka, and I want to drown in it. My hands are everywhere. Her waist, her ass, her thighs.
She moans into my mouth, when my fingers push up under her dress and trace over her cotton panties.
“Fuck. You’re already dripping,” I murmur against her lips. “This all for me?”
She shudders, nails digging into my shoulders. “Yes.”
“Yeah?” My lips brush against her jaw, down to the sensitive spot on her neck. “Tell me how bad you want it.”
