Chapter 19 – ryan
RYAN
“This is heresy,” I groan while James sets out the pieces. “A board game on my poker table. It pains me to see.”
“You didn’t have to come,” he reminds me. “I invited you out of politeness.”
“Seriously, we’re grown men,” I continue. “Some of us are goddamn billionaires. And we’re seriously spending our night pretending to play for world domination?”
Once a month, the other guys get together to play Risk.
They’ve all been obsessed with it since high school, even though the game sucks.
The strategy is way too easy to master, and it takes like four hours every time.
It bores me out of my fucking skull. Poker is a much better match for my obsessive mind and my well-documented ADHD.
“We don’t have to play poker,” I suggest. “We can play any other game. Just not Risk.”
James glares at me. “No.”
“Velvet and Vice is open,” says Beau. “There’s a DJ visiting from Paris who’s just your type. You could go listen to her.”
I roll my eyes. “You could at least pretend you’re not trying to get rid of me.”
“Okay. Leave,” James says bluntly. “I don’t want to play with you if you’re going to complain the whole time.”
“Come on, dudes, we need a fourth,” Luke says. “Since Nate and Cat are down in Mexico, Ryan is our last resort. So enough with the attitude, James. I’ve still got a black eye, thanks to this asshole, but I still want him here.”
I nod at him. It’s true, going by pure bro code, I messed up when I punched James. He didn’t know Pippa was off-limits when he hit on her. So I did apologize, but if I’m honest, I’m still fucking pissed at him.
Pippa might not be mine, but that doesn’t mean I want anyone else fucking touching her.
Ever since she told me that fucking me was a mistake, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
It’s deranged. At least every five minutes, I flash back to an image from that night.
Her gorgeous ass in the air as she hung over the edge of the table.
My hand wrapped around her pretty neck. The sound of her screaming my name while her pussy clenched around my cock like a fucking vice.
No woman has ever felt that fucking good before.
It would be heaven, if only there was a chance in hell of it happening again.
Unfortunately, Pippa told me off even while my come was still dripping down her thighs. I’ve never had anyone dump me that quickly. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever had anyone dump me.
Other than a quick settling of terms over hangover coffee the next morning, she’s been avoiding me ever since.
I don’t know what she thinks is going to happen at Christmas, which is only two days away.
I’ll be driving her to our parents’ place for the holiday.
Our bedrooms will be even closer than they are in the apartment right now.
Avoidance isn’t an option for her, and forgetting what happened isn’t an option for me.
Worst of all, I caught a glimpse of her on her way out to another date. I know it was a date because she was wearing those sexy fucking thigh-high boots. She only breaks those out when she’s trying to impress someone.
That’s why I’m sitting at the table right now. Even playing Risk is better than sitting upstairs by myself, trying to manifest Pippa’s date getting a sudden case of explosive diarrhea.
I take all my little green pieces and try to arrange them in the shape of a dick. Immature, yes. Funny? Not really, but I have to try and make this fun somehow.
I can’t believe what she said to me the next morning…
“About last night” she’d started, staring very hard at the coffee machine. “We were drunk and dumb and—”
“And you came so hard that the imprints of your nails in my back will probably scar,” I’d supplied like a total champion.
“That is…not going on the official record.”
Her cheeks turned violent red.
I could have pushed it, reminded her how I completely unraveled her, but I was feeling benevolent.
“Relax, Pips,” I’d said. “I’m not asking you to sign a lease. We had a good time. I’m not going to pretend we didn’t.
She bit her lip then, casting a furtive glance in my direction like if she wasn’t careful, the sight of me could burn out her retinas.
“Great, so we’re agreed. It was a one-time thing. Just, you know…casual idiocy.”
If that was us being idiots, I can’t fucking wait to see what we’re like when we know what we’re doing.
I cleared my throat and nodded along, telling her what she wanted to hear. “Sure.”
“You know this doesn’t change anything,” she was quick to add, swirling her coffee. “You’re still the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”
She didn’t like it when I grinned at that. “Mmhmmm.”
“I mean it. You’re literally the worst.”
I nodded. “Sure, Pips. We can keep calling it hate if it makes you feel better.”
Her face paled. “What else would you call it?”
I’d scoffed and set my mug in the sink, leaving her alone to stew over it, not really sure myself.
“It’s your turn, Ryan,” James says, a note of impatience in his tone that tells me it might not be the first time he’s said it.
I look up at him, bringing myself out of the Pippa spiral. “What do I do, again?”
“You place one of your infantry on a country you already control,” he says. James is the most patient guy I’ve ever known, but his voice already sounds strained. I really am annoying him with my complaining, and it’s way too tempting to see how far I can push him.
“Can I trade Argentina for China?” I ask. “Because I could really go for some dim sum.”
“No.”
Sighing with exasperation, I put one of my little dudes on China. “We could ditch the game and go out for dim sum. Nothing stopping us.”
“Your turn, Luke,” James says, ignoring me.
My pocket starts ringing. It’s “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry—the custom ringtone for Pippa, which I set when I was about eighteen. It seemed funny at the time, even though she never called me, so the joke didn’t really land.
In fact, it’s weird that I’m hearing from her now. She’s supposed to be on a date, so why is she calling me?
Part of me wants to shove the phone in my pocket and pretend I never got it. If Pippa’s going to avoid me, well, two can play at that game.
But what if something’s wrong?
Aggravated, I pick up the call.
“Hello?” Pippa says at the same time that I do.
I frown. “Why are you saying hello? You called me.”
“Oh, hi,” she says, like she can’t even hear me. “Wait, slow down, is everything okay?”
“Dude, what’s happening?” Luke asks.
I shrug. “No idea. It’s Pippa, but I can’t understand her.”
“I’ll just be a second!” Pippa says in my ear.
“What the fuck, Pips?” I plug my other finger in my ear and walk toward the bar. The guys are still chatting about the game. Maybe if I can hear her better, I can figure out what’s happening.
“I’m on a date right now, but of course I can come!” she says. Then, in a muffled voice, I hear her saying to someone else, “I’m so sorry. That’s my best friend. She just broke up with her fiancé, and she’s having a tough time.”
“Really?” a low masculine voice says. My stomach drops as I put the pieces together.
She called because she was trying to get away from her date.
Something’s definitely wrong, because if he was just a jerk, Pippa would have no problem telling him right to his face.
She’s fearless in that way. The fact that she’s faking an emergency tells me she’s scared of him.
“Pippa, is everything alright?” I ask intently. “Where are you?”
“The restaurant’s only fifteen minutes away. I can get there soon,” she says.
Her date clears his throat. “Wait, you’re leaving?”
“I’m so sorry to do this, but she’s breaking down,” Pippa says. “She says she really needs me.”
“Can’t it wait till later?” he growls.
“I don’t think so. She’s really upset.”
There’s a pause. “Are you lying to me?”
“Why would I be lying?” Pippa’s voice sounds a little shaky, but the sound quality on the call isn’t good enough for me to tell if she’s scared, or just confused. Fuck—I tap my foot, wishing I could see what was happening.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “Do you need me to come get you?”
There’s a muffled noise, then the call ends. Shit. I call her back immediately, but the phone just keeps ringing.
“Hey man, is everything okay?” Beau asks.
I ignore him, cursing under my breath as I dial her number again. Still no answer.
“Pippa’s on a date, and I think it’s going bad,” I mutter.
“Where’s the date?”
“Some restaurant.” I drag my fingers through my hair and pull up her location. She’s not far away. It might be faster for me to run down and check on her than to wait for her to call me back. Fuck it. I shoot her a text.
Ryan
Stay there. I’m coming to get you.
“You’ll have to play without me, guys,” I shout as I jog over to the elevator. “I’m going to go check on her.”
“Yeah, man,” Luke says.
“Text us when you know she’s okay?” Beau adds.
“I will,” I promise, shoving my way onto the elevator when the doors open. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her.