Keep Me (RLU #3)

Chapter One

Camille

October

A pair of hands wraps around my waist, and I instantly freeze as my mind transports me back to that day. Suddenly, I’m not at some nightclub in America but rather in the backstreets of my home island, Lorsica, just off the coast of France.

His hands grip my ass, and I shove him away the best I can. The man snarls at me, his face going beet red as he backhands me, making my vision blur before he shoves me to the ground, my elbow thumping into the concrete. I quickly scramble to my feet. No time to cry or scream as I remember my training, and I run as fast as I fucking can.

Even though my calves scream at me in protest, the alarm bells going off in my head are louder and they propel me to keep the lead on the three men chasing me.

When the hands currently gripping me grow tighter, it pulls me back to the present and I shove the stranger off. “No, thank you,” I tell him politely, not wanting to make him angry .

Where’s my best friend, Jasmine? I could really use her help right about now.

He grins mischievously, and my breath hitches as I worry that he’s not going to leave me alone.

My eyes dart around the room, trying to focus on anything that isn’t this man. I crane my neck, looking over the man’s shoulders, and that’s when I see him .

Ryker Lewis.

The man I’ve had a crush on for three years but have refused to approach.

And he’s making his way toward us with a scowl on his face.

“No means fucking no,” Ryker grits out, shoving the other man back. “If I see you near her again, you better fucking run. If I catch you, it won’t be good.”

His brawny chest heaves up and down as he glares at the man. While his attention isn’t on me, I take him in for the first time up close like this. My eyes snag on his tattooed sleeve down his right arm, his biceps taut against his black T-shirt.

He’s tall, broad, and full of sculpted muscles from his years of training as an athlete. And my favorite trait of his, those shoulder-length, dark brown waves resting on his shoulders that contrast with his stormy blue eyes.

He’s domineering, broody, and intimidating as hell.

In my peripheral vision, I see Jasmine rushing to my side, but I can’t take my eyes off him. There’s something about him that draws me to him, like a gravitational force I have no control over.

“Camille, are you okay?” Jasmine asks, her mocha eyes fixated on me with concern.

I nod unconvincingly.

“Let me take you home, Camille,” she urges, knowing exactly why I’m internally freaking out .

Ryker takes a protective step toward me, crowding my body with his. “I got her. You can go.”

The feeling of safety cloaks my entire body, and it’s almost foreign. I can’t remember the last time someone made me feel like that.

My lips part as my breath is sucked into the back of my throat while I gaze between Jasmine and Ryker. “I’ll be okay. I just want to get some fresh air.” I shrug my shoulders, trying to seem unaffected.

“I’ll go with you.” Ryker’s deep voice cuts through the loud bass music. His tone is final, with no room for discussion.

I swing my eyes back to him, surprised. Why is he insisting on going outside with me? The part of me that still has a crush on him is thrilled, while my romantic heart is bursting at the seams at the idea of spending a fraction of time with him. But the logical part of me knows not to get my hopes up.

Jasmine looks between the two of us with hesitancy. She finally relents when I give her a small nod of approval.

Ryker’s warm breath hits my ear as he whispers, “Would it be okay if I hold you in front of me while we walk out? That way no one can touch you.”

A shiver skates down my body, and for once, it’s not from fear.

I haven’t been able to stomach being touched since the incident because every time a guy tries to get close to me, my body sets off alarms that I’m not safe.

But I find myself nodding, wanting to be embraced in the safety of his arms.

Ryker places his hands on my waist, and surprisingly, the contact makes shocks of something unnamed pop in my belly as he pulls me toward him and twists so that my back is to him. I’m rather tall at five-foot-eleven, but I fit perfectly under his chin, my body easily shielded by his as he wraps his arms gently around the middle of my stomach .

It’s the first time I haven’t flinched from another man’s touch.

“I got you,” he murmurs into my ear. With that assurance, I begin taking steps forward and he follows suit.

To my amazement, the sea of bodies seems to part for us, people getting out of the way when they see us moving toward the front door. It must be because of the scowl that takes residence on his face.

Once we break free into the cool fall breeze, I can finally breathe for the first time tonight. I take a deep inhale, close my eyes as I hold it, then let it go. I repeat it three times while I try distracting myself.

All while forgetting Ryker’s still holding on to me.

Why hasn’t he let go yet?

We stay silent for a moment until I start to enjoy the feeling of his arms around me a little too much.

I clear my throat and he lets his arms fall from my waist as he takes a step away from me.

I turn to face him, and I’m nearly knocked on my ass as I take him in this up close for the first time. Out of the dim lighting and flashing strobes, I can see his face more clearly.

He’s beautiful.

His beard is neatly trimmed, covering a prominent jaw, with striking deep blue eyes to top it off. They’re darker than mine and steal the breath from my lungs. He has this bad boy feel to him with his medium-length tousled hair and tattoos. Not to mention he plays baseball, which happens to be my favorite sport.

I like it all more than I should. He’s everything I’ve been raised to stay away from.

I’ve never been more attracted to a man than I am to him. It’s been that way for the last three years, ever since I first laid eyes on him.

I was on my way to cover the girls’ softball team’s game that day, when I nearly ran into him on my way to get there. Words failed me at that moment when our eyes locked, but I quickly pulled it together, apologized, and kept hustling toward my destination.

But ever since that glance, he intrigued me. I heard about him around the baseball facility, but I had never had the courage to speak to him. Instead, I just crushed on him from afar. Eyeing him from the highest spot in the bleachers, making sure I went unseen.

Not that he’d notice me, but any girl with a crush gets it. I’d ogle him from afar, his signature low bun under his ball cap, his baseball pants doing nothing to hide his muscular thighs or perfect ass.

And now? He’s up close and personal, looking at me with concern.

“What happened in there?” he asks. “No bullshit.”

I falter, not quite sure why I want to explain what happened to a stranger, yet I find myself wanting to.

“No bullshit?” I question him back, raising a single brow to try to lighten the atmosphere surrounding us.

He doesn’t budge, his scowl loyally on his face. “It means don’t bullshit me. No secrets, no lies. I don’t do that shit.”

“Why do you even want to know? Why are you out here to begin with?” I blurt, unable to contain the questions swirling in my mind.

Ryker remains stoic, except for his sapphire eyes. They soften a smidge, just enough for me to notice it. “I feel protective of you for some reason,” he grumbles like it’s the last thing he wants to admit.

My heart threatens to flutter in my chest at his words, but I know not to read too much into them. He’s a man, a seemingly good man, who wants to keep another person safe. It’s a natural human thing, not because he feels something for me in particular .

I’d do well to keep that in mind.

Our eyes linger on one another’s for a moment, the perfect fall weather wrapping around the space between us. As much as a part of me yearns to tell him, I don’t. He’s getting the bullshit he specifically asked not to get.

“I just don’t like when people touch me without my permission. That’s all,” I partially lie because it’s still a true statement.

Ryker scowls at me, crossing his corded forearms over his chest. “You looked like you saw a ghost in there.”

“If I’d seen a ghost, I would’ve screamed, and that would’ve been interesting. I put heavy metal singers to shame,” I attempt to put some humor into my words, but it falls flat.

He just stares at me, his dark blue eyes bouncing back and forth between mine, like he’s trying to see through them.

“I know we don’t know each other, but if something happened to you—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“Exactly. We don’t know each other, so it’s none of your business.” My voice is curt, more than I intended it to be.

Ryker’s scowl deepens, his chest heaving a deep breath as he looks up at the sky. He clearly doesn’t like my answer, but it’s the truth.

We don’t know each other. I don’t need to go spilling my demons to him.

But my heart tells me to lighten up a bit because it’s not in my nature to be sassy like that. I step forward and place my hand on his forearm. “Hey, look at me,” I order, using the confident and direct tone I was raised to speak in. I may be Camille Blanchette here, but Maribel De Pont is hard to get rid of.

Ryker’s eyes meet mine, looking down at my manicured nails on his tattooed arm. I remove my hand, noting how the brief contact made warmth unfurl in my belly .

“I’m okay. You don’t even know my name anyway, so let it go and go enjoy your night.”

His brows pinch together, and it’s then that I wonder if I’ll ever see him doing something other than frown at me. “I know your name, Camille.”

Oh.

He knows my name. But how? I was sure I remained invisible to him for the past three years.

“Must be a lucky guess,” I say with a grin.

He shakes his head, his eyes roaming over my face. “The gala last year. Jasmine introduced you.”

“That’s right, I remember seeing you briefly. I only knew who you were because of baseball. I work for the school’s paper and I cover the girls’ teams. I also love baseball in general, so obviously I know of both the men’s and women’s team’s players,” I ramble, something I never, ever do. It’s that damn crush making me talk faster than an auctioneer and spill more than I need to.

“You like baseball, princess?” His eyes lighten, but his lips remain in a tight line.

My stomach threatens to bottom out. Princess? Where did that come from? There’s no way he could know…right?

“Princess?” I balk, taking a step back from him.

“You just don’t seem like the kind of girl who likes baseball, that’s all,” he grunts, eyeing my outfit.

“And you don’t seem like the kind of guy who smiles much.”

“You’re not wrong.” He shrugs and blows out a breath. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I already was okay. I just needed a minute to clear my head outside. You can’t take the sunshine out of this girl.” I smile, feeling that part of myself coming back to life. Whenever I get triggered, it fades, but it always comes back .

I expect to elicit a smile out of him, but I’m rewarded with another grunt instead.

“Good.” Then he digs into his jeans, and a beep sounds from behind me.

I turn to see a sport bike at the curb, an all-black beauty. Seriously? Does he also need to drive that ? How much hotter can he get? I’m already feeling warmer than is normal in the middle of October.

He takes his key to the back end, then lifts it to retrieve his helmet. As I eye him, I find myself reeling with envy. I want the rush of riding on the back of his bike, feeling the wind around us as we drive through the winding roads near the mountains.

Ryker walks back over to me, and for a second, I think he’s going to offer me a ride, but my hopes deflate the minute he opens his mouth.

“Are you good to walk back in there with your friends?”

“Yeah, go. Thank you for helping me,” I say, my voice smaller than I’d like. I turn on my heel, not giving him time to see the disappointment in my eyes that shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“Princess,” he calls out, stopping me in my tracks.

I’ve never liked the title, but hearing it laced with his rough, gravelly tone has me rethinking my stance. I like it coming from him. I like it a lot.

“Ryker the biker?” I respond, looking at him over my shoulder with a small smile.

His brows narrow, nearly touching in the middle. “Absolutely not.”

I giggle, unable to contain it. “Too bad.” I smirk, then head back into the club, leaving Ryker on the curb, likely with a scowl on his lips. I’d bet my entire savings on it.

I find Jasmine with ease and we agree to leave. Our car ride is quiet as we’re both exhausted from the night. I can tell Jasmine’s upset about something, but I won’t push her to talk about it. Just like I know she’s not pushing me to talk about what happened with Ryker.

Because truthfully, I don’t even know what happened myself. Ryker’s a lot grumpier than I imagined. I itch to find out why, but what’s the point?

My upbeat attitude would annoy him, so it’s best I just let go of my stupid crush. Even if it got worse tonight after looking up at him so close, feeling his muscles twitch under my palm and the way he held me in his arms.

Ugh, I need to stop. This is my last year of university, and I need to spend it investing in myself, not in feelings.

Besides, if my parents were to find me somehow, I’d be forced to move back home and live out the life they have planned for me. Finding some way to use my love for the people of my country to lure me back in.