7. Ryker
7
Ryker
H ayes and I finish our drinks and I can’t help but wander toward the club entrance. The bar is hopping, but it’s running smoothly and they don’t need me. I’ve been so busy running the bar, I haven’t been on the club side of Gravity in quite a while, and I’m feeling the pull.
I push through the door, like I’m on a mission, and take the stairs to the basement, where I’m smacked in the face with debauchery of all kinds. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the feeling it gives me to be down here. My dick twitches at the sound and smell of sex and sin within this space.
With no intention of participating, I head in the direction of one of our viewing rooms when I’m practically knocked off my feet after colliding with someone who clearly isn’t paying attention. Looking down, all I see is bunned up dirty blonde hair and black silk. She’s still not looking at me when she speaks. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. It’s so fucking hot in here. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
With my hands in my pockets, I glare down at the careless woman and wait for her to look back at me. “You should look a person in the eye when you apologize. It’s more effective.”
She tilts her head up, looking me dead in the eye, “Listen. You don’t have to be a dick about it. I said I was sorry.”
Fuck my life. I’d know those green eyes anywhere. “Arabella.” My back stiffens and I do a double take. I have no clue what to say. Am I being punk’d?
She hasn’t registered who I am yet. Maybe she doesn’t remember me at all. It’s been about six years since I drove her to a date and then promptly broke up with her mother. I still wish I’d said goodbye, but I couldn’t stay.
“Listen, whatever your name is. I’m sorry if I didn’t call you back. It’s you, not me. No, that’s wrong. Or is it? Fuck me, why can’t I get that right?” Her words sound slightly slurred. It’s subtle, but still there. “It’s nothing personal, I just can’t be tied down. It’s called a one-night stand for a reason, you know. You have a great dick and all, but you should probably work on your execution. Wait… You look older than I remember.”
My face twists into a grimace as I process her drunken words. Who the fuck does she think I am? It would probably help if she was actually looking at me.
“Arabella, look at me. How much have you had to drink and how did you get down here?” I have so many questions, starting with where her fucking clothes are. Jesus fuck. My pulse is pounding between my ears as my confusion turns into rage. She should not be here at all, let alone in this part of the club.
“Wait… Ryker? As in, my mom’s old man-friend Ryker? What the fuck are you doing here ?” She’s looking at me cross-eyed now. It hasn’t been that long since she’s seen me.
“I own this place. Now answer my question.”
She stumbles and lets out an exaggerated huff. “I’ll have you know, I’ve only had two drinks since I’ve been here. See? Scan me.” Her hand nearly smacks me in the face as she shows me her wristband.
Where does she think I’m hiding a scanner?
Unfortunately, she’s giving herself away by holding up four fingers, which still seems kind of low, considering her obviously drunken behavior.
It still doesn’t answer how she got down here. We have a system in place to prevent this and she’s not exactly subtle. Any of our employees should be able to see from a mile away that she’s too drunk to be let anywhere near the door, let alone through it.
Grabbing her arm, I pull her upstairs, back to the bar area and into the VIP booth. I need to have a conversation with the door handler responsible for letting her through, but I need answers from her now.
Gesturing with two fingers for a server to bring some water, I sit her in the booth and slide in next to her, trapping her in place. “Arabella, look at me.”
With a huff, she rolls her eyes in my direction. “What do you want, Ryker? I really need to get back to my date, if you don’t mind. He’s around here somewhere.”
“I do mind. You have no business being in that part of the building sober, let alone drunk. And don’t even try to lie and say you’re not. Who are you here with?” I ask, pushing the water toward her. “Drink this. It’ll help sober you up.”
“I’m more fun with a little alcohol in me, anyway. Why are you trying to ruin my fun?”
“Fun? If you knew anything about what goes on there, you’d know that it’s not safe if you’re impaired. Now, who did you come with?” I ask again while crossing my arms over my chest.
“If you must know, I came with Wrinley,” she pauses to giggle. “Also Thadd, with two d’s and Brad, with one.” I stare at her with a confused look on my face, because I have no clue how to respond to that. “You heard me. Thadd and Brad.” She slaps her thighs, laughing hysterically.
I’d laugh with her if I wasn’t so pissed off. “You’ll stay here and sober up,” I order with a firm tone. “Then we’ll talk.”