Chapter 16
it’s riley
HAYDEN
Some guy is flirting with Riley. And I know him. His name is Nick, and he works in marketing for a record label. We’ve made small talk a few times. I don’t know much about him, other than he’s smart and always seemed nice.
Two traits any man Riley dates should possess. Fuck. I don’t like his attention on her, not even for a second.
On autopilot, I slide two beers across the bar.
A girl is talking my ear off, but I’m too focused on Riley to listen.
Dammit. I regret not being closer to her.
When the crowd started to grow, I chose to keep my distance.
It’s safer this way, considering I’ve seen several women tonight who are part of Sabotage’s fan club.
Keeping my distance was supposed to mean she’d be safer from the unwanted attention of my fans, not safer from men who show an interest in her.
Though, can I blame Nick? Riley’s always beautiful, but tonight, she’s magnificent.
Her white shirt with rolled-up sleeves looks like it was custom-stitched for her.
It accentuates her narrow waist, and the way it highlights the round swell of her tits made my mouth water when she walked out of her bedroom tonight.
Her light blue jeans hug her fit ass and toned legs so perfectly, it took effort not to stride across the living room and grip her hips.
Her hair? Goddamn it. Long blue strands frame her face, bringing out the color of her eyes. The rest cascades over her shoulders in soft waves. Her look is simple, but it oozes a sexual energy I’ve never noticed in her before.
Probably because I trained myself not to look at her.
And now, I don’t ever want to stop looking.
As Nick shuffles away, I survey her again.
She’s staring right at me, as if she can see into my soul.
Maybe she can. If so, I’m even more screwed than I thought.
I shouldn’t send her mixed signals. I should stick to my previous resolution that nothing can ever happen between us.
She’s my best friend’s little sister, yes, but more than that, I’m not in the right headspace to date.
So, I fake a smile, wink at her as if her interaction with Nick doesn’t bother me, then focus on the customers in front of me—two girls wearing Sabotage merch. They want mocktails, to flirt, and take a photo with me. And I do just that, because that’s why I came here tonight.
But genuinely, I can’t wait to go home.
I tend bar for three hours instead of two. When I’m done, Riley is in the middle of a conversation with Nick. By the broad smile on her face and the sparkling glint in her eyes, I see she’s enjoying herself—and by the way he looks at her, he is too.
Fists clenched, I take a deep breath and let it out again. The frustration I feel with myself and the situation altogether makes my skin crawl. I have no right to be jealous. I have no right to tell her what she can and cannot do, but damn, if I don’t want to whisk her back to my penthouse.
Easy, Hayden. Don’t you dare act like a dog ready to mark its territory.
When some of the tension has eased, I sidle up to them, stopping by Riley’s stool. As if I haven’t just given myself a pep talk, I snake an arm around her waist, drawing her attention to me.
“Hey, Ry baby. Sorry it took so long.”
She looks up at me, her pupils wide and her cheeks flushed.
A little concerned by how drunk she looks, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“It’s all good.” She nods toward her company. “Nick has been entertaining me.”
So far, I’ve ignored the guy, but now, I don’t have any choice but to greet him. “Hey, Nick.”
His gaze drops to my hand on Riley’s waist then climbs back to my face.
“It’s been a while,” I say, ignoring the way he scrutinizes us. “How have you been?”
“You two know each other?” she asks, glancing between us, a deep crease between her eyebrows.
“Yeah,” I confirm.
He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t know you two knew each other, but yeah, Hayden and I have met on several occasions.
If I’d known, I would’ve mentioned it.” A sheepish smile crosses his face.
“I kept it to myself because I wanted to make a good first impression and not sound like a clout-chasing asshole.”
She shifts to face him, and the move causes my hand to slip from her hip. “You certainly made a good impression.”
The fuck?
“I’m glad to hear it,” he murmurs, eyes glued to hers.
He’s glad to hear it? I am not. Frustration bubbles in my gut, but I slip my hands deep into my pockets and clamp my mouth shut. Fuck, am I jealous. Not that I can act on it. I already ruined one fun night for her. I don’t want to repeat my mistakes.
“I should probably leave you two alone?” Why am I asking? It shouldn’t have been a question.
She surveys me, but her attention quickly snags on something over my shoulder. “I’m sure your fans would appreciate more time with their favorite celebrity.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Probably. If you need me, I’ll be around.” I take one step back, then another.
Before I turn on my heel, Nick calls my name, halting me.
“I’m sorry about what happened to Owen,” he says. “My condolences to you and his family. He was a very talented guy, gone way too soon.”
My heart thuds painfully against my rib cage, and the live music turns into white noise.
Hands trembling, I shove them into my pockets again.
His words are genuine, but they land like a punch to my gut.
So far, tonight has been a nice little break from my grief and my depression, and then, with a few simple words, he single-handedly tossed me back into the ocean of sorrow and regret. Not on purpose, but still…
“Thanks,” I mutter. “I better go.” With that, I whip around and beeline toward the restrooms.
For several minutes, I stare into the mirror, studying my reflection as if it will change now that the pits of my own hell have been opened again. I quietly count to a hundred. I want to go home, but Riley’s having a good time, and I can’t fail her again.
“Suck it up, dude,” I hiss at my reflection. “Stop being such a buzzkill. Let the girl enjoy herself. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into your mess.”
When my fingers finally stop trembling, I head back out into the chaos. Breaths sawing in and out of my lungs, I make my way back to the bar. Halfway there, I find Riley, but this time, she’s alone. I come to an abrupt stop and assess her. She’s facing away from the bar, her posture tense.
Before I can make my feet move again, she sees me and strides my way.
“Ready to go home?” she asks.
I slide a hand down my face, confused. “Are you? I thought you wanted to stay.”
She shrugs. “Not in the mood anymore.”
Something must’ve happened while I was in the restroom, but I’m honestly too eager to get out of here to ask.
Without another word, I lace my fingers with hers and pull her toward the exit. She follows me easily, her hand comically small in mine. TJ claps me on my shoulder as we pass, shouting his appreciation. I wave but don’t slow down, too desperate for fresh air.
Thank fuck I asked Wyatt to drive us tonight. My thoughts are too chaotic to allow me to think straight. Once we’re settled in the back seat, I turn to Riley. “What happened with Nick?”
She lifts one shoulder. “Nothing.”
“You were flirting with him—”
She snorts. “So what? You flirted with everyone you served.”
I clench my jaw and force a harsh breath out through my nose. If I don’t chill out, I’ll say something I regret.
“That’s not what I mean,” I say, keeping my tone even. “You can do whatever you want, flirt with whomever you want. But you seemed into him, and when I came back from the restroom, you were alone and ready to leave. What happened?”
She doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away. “Nothing happened.”
Unease swirls in my gut. “Ry?”
“Nick is a nice guy. I just…wasn’t in the mood anymore.” She crosses her arms over her chest and faces forward, ending the conversation.
There’s no way I’m getting the answer out of her right now.
The moment we step into the penthouse, she dashes to her room, leaving me alone in total silence.
After a shower, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water.
My mind is a mess, and not only because of Nick’s comment about Owen. No, a dozen confusing emotions stir inside me, and most of them are because of Riley. The need to make sure she’s okay is familiar, but the jealousy? This desire to mark her so no one else looks at her?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Head lowered, I put the empty glass in the sink and pad back to my bedroom. As I pass her door, I come to a stop.
What are you doing? My brain knows I should move, but my body doesn’t agree.
Just as I take another step closer, she makes a sound. It’s low, almost breathless. What—
Is that a moan? Holy fuck. When she moans a second time, my heart stops.
I press my ear to her door, and sure enough, she does it again.
There’s another sound too, a low hum. Shit.
She’s masturbating using her pink vibrator.
Fucking herself in my penthouse. Pleasuring herself when there’s nothing but a wall between us.
Struggling for breath, I press my forehead to the doorframe and close my eyes.
Her next moan is louder. I shouldn’t be here, but I’m glued to the spot.
All I want is to be inside her room. To watch the way she moves her vibrator in and out of her wet pussy.
To see her tits, her toned body. To feel her lips against mine.
My body heats, the sensation settling in my groin. Fuck, even her sounds are perfect. I squeeze my hard cock through my sweatpants, but it doesn’t bring me the relief I need. So, I dip my hand beneath the waistband and stroke once, twice, and before I know it, I’ve come in my pants.
Shame washes over me a second after the relief. I should’ve walked away the moment I heard her. I should’ve respected her privacy.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Standing under the spray for the second time in one night—this time, the water ice cold—I stare at the tiled wall. My thoughts race. I try to convince myself I came in my sweatpants because I haven’t had sex in months, but the truth is like a neon sign in my brain.
It’s her.
It’s Riley.
And I have no idea how much longer I can resist her.