“Thank you. You look hot too. You’re totes, a babe,” she says, nodding appreciatively as she gives me a once over. Great, drunk Isis says ‘totes.’ We walk to the bar’s entrance arm in arm, and instantly hear the music and laughter. The place is pretty packed tonight. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride as I walk in. Ryan has really done well for himself. Ryan, Tag and Reid are all serving customers, and I instantly know why the bar is filled with women. Reid is wearing a black T-shirt, and Ryan is wearing white. Apart from Reid’s scar and their different hairstyles, you can’t tell them apart. Tag is wearing a tight white singlet, showing off his muscles. This is like the male version of fucking Hooters. I try to tone down the jealousy, but as I look around and wonder which one of these girls Ryan has been with, I start to grind my teeth. Ryan spots me and smiles, biting his bottom lip as he sees what I’m wearing. High waisted denim shorts and a black crop top, showing about two inches of my stomach. Paired with red platform heels, I think I clean up pretty well.
“I want to run my hands over that bald head,” Isis says into my ear. I scrunch up my face at that visual, and head to the bar as I see Ryan walk towards me.
“Look at you,” he says, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. “What do you want to drink?”
“Juice for me and I think Isis needs a water,” I tell him, looking behind me at Isis who is blowing Tag a flying kiss. Get some game woman! Ryan chuckles and leads me to the stool right in front of where he was standing. He lifts me onto the chair, giving me a look so heated, I forget all about my jealousy and insecurities.
“You take my breath away,” he says so only I can hear. “I’m going to fuck you in those heels tonight.”
I blush. Ryan leads Isis to her seat and helps her up; he says something to her before getting back behind the bar. Reid and Tag both say hello, and Ryan gets us our drinks. I don’t bother trying to pay because last time Ryan made a scene over it when I told him I wanted to. He went all dramatic and told me that this bar was mine, and if I wanted cash, I could take it from the cash register. He then opened said register and asked me how much I wanted. I want to kill him all over again at the memory.
Isis looks at the bottle of water and then narrows her eyes. “Water? Really?”
I shrug. She isn’t slurring her words so she can’t be too drunk, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
“One water, then one drink,” she says, nodding her head like we made a deal.
I grin. “Are you bartering with me?”
“It’s called compromise, and… wait what was I talking about? Oh, hi Tag,” she says, leaning on her palm.
“Isis,” he says, smiling. “Taiya, looking gorgeous I see.”
“Always,” I answer, winking at him. He chuckles and looks behind us, asking if anyone is waiting to be served. I look for Ryan, and frown when I see him at the opposite side of the bar talking to a woman. He’s shaking his head no at her, while she leans closer to say something to him. Who exactly is that? It could just be a friend. Men have women friends all the time, right? When she reaches up her hand to touch his jaw, I have my answer. Ryan looks over at me, as if checking to see if I saw that, grimacing when he realises I did. The woman follows his line of direction and her lips tighten. She walks away, and I see Ryan rub the back of his neck, as if steeling himself before having to deal with me. I look away and down into my juice, moving the ice cubes around with the straw.
“Tay,” he says, wrapping me in his arms from behind.
“Who was that?” I ask, not beating around the bush.
He sighs, like he knew the interrogation was coming. “Someone I used to know.”
“Right, and I get that, Ryan, but why was she touching you now?”
“She didn’t know I was taken.” Then he mutters under his breath, “And she didn’t believe me when I told her I was.”
I nod. “Why would they believe you, right? I mean you’ve been every woman’s go-to-cock for the last year.”
He flinches at my comment, gripping the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to happen, beautiful, and each time I’m going to tell them I’m not interested.”
That mollifies me somewhat, and I know I may be overreacting, but it still hurts. “Stupid whore,” I mutter under my breath.
“She’s not a whore just because she slept with me, babe. Don’t be like that,” he says, sounding disappointed. Disappointed! In me!
“Are you sticking up for her?” I ask, my mouth gaping.
“No, but it’s not her fault, is it? I’m the one in the wrong, not her.”