“What’s up?” he said. His blond hair was buzzed short, and he had tattoos on his neck. He wore a tight t-shirt emblazoned with some bar logo and low-rise straight cut jeans. He seemed like someone Brooklyn would go for. Stormy stifled a half smile as she thought about what Brooklyn would think of him. She’d probably make fun of him and then jump his bones later when no one was watching.
“Stormy’s staying with me for the weekend,” Ryder said.
“You’re not from around here?” Zander seemed confused.
“No, remember? This is my brother’s wife,” he replied.
“Oh,” Zander said, his face turning white for a split second.
“My late brother,” Ryder said. “You never met him.”
Zander shrugged and then proceeded to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Fiji water from the refrigerator.
“A bunch of us are going out to the Crow’s Nest tonight,” Zander said as he slurped his water. “You two wanna join?”
“It’s up to Stormy,” Ryder said with raised eyebrows. “We’re doing whatever she wants.”
Stormy instinctively wanted to decline at first. She knew what happened at biker bars and how crazy things could get, and she didn’t come here to meet new people. She didn’t want to stand out in the city full of big-breasted blondes. She just wanted to talk to Ryder and get to know him better. She wanted some one-on-one time with him, but then again she didn’t want to seem weird or unfriendly. She wanted to prove to him that she could try new things and have fun, as much as she really didn’t want to.
“Yeah, sounds fun,” she lied. She plastered the biggest, fakest smile on her face that she could muster while she made a mental note to herself to Google “The Crow’s Nest” the next chance she got.
CHAPTER 9
Ryder brought them home from the biker bar around eleven. Stormy had spent the entire evening swallowing her pride and chasing it down with glass after glass of cheap draft beer. There were about seventeen people in their group that night, most of whom were men. The two girls with them were friendly enough. They didn’t make Stormy feel too out of place, and they even complimented her hair.
Ryder introduced her as his new girlfriend so as not to raise any suspicions. The group treated her like gold, as they dared not cross the VP in any way. He was still hopeful that she’d be willing to go along with his little plan to find out which of his men killed Jett.
Stormy was hammered. Ryder wrapped one arm around her as he led her through the parking garage, to the elevator, and then down the hall to his place. Through her drunken stupor, she knew she was coming across as a bumbling, giggly idiot to him, but she didn’t care. The alcohol took away her ability to care about what other people thought of her, if only for a short while.
As she stumbled in the door, he pulled her over towards the kitchen island where he propped her up onto a bar stool.
“Sit here,” he said. He fished around in the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade. “Drink this.”
“I’m so not thirsty right now,” Stormy giggled. “Seriously. I feel like I’m going to explode.”
“You need some electrolytes,” he insisted. “You’re going to feel like crap tomorrow. Your whole Saturday will be wasted. You won’t want to do anything. Seriously, just do what I say.”
“You’re a little bossy, Ry,” she smirked. “I kind of like it.”
He rolled his eyes as he shoved the bottler closer to her.
“Why did you drink so much tonight?” he asked. He was clearly upset, and the alpha male in him was coming out to play.
“Did I embarrass you?” she asked in response.
“No, not at all,” he said. “My men, they think you’re a cool chick. I just don’t know why you needed to drink four or five glasses of beer. Just seemed a little excessive.”
“I guess I was nervous to meet everyone,” she said.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “First of all, I wouldn’t let you meet my friends if you weren’t a nice person, and second of all, I don’t hang out with assholes and douche bags, so you had nothing to be nervous about. Third of all, there’s a hierarchy in our club. If you’re with me, you get treated like me. They know that.”
He had a point.
“Well, I know that now,” she said in a sing-song voice. She began sliding back and forth and side to side on the bar stool.
“Stop that. You’re going to fall off and hurt yourself.”
Stormy turned side to side even faster. The room was spinning, and she felt so free. Within seconds, and just as Ryder had predicted, she lost her footing and fell off the bar stool. She was about to smack her head on the floor before he swooped in and caught her.