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Juliet
“Oh I'm sorry, I'm married," I say, lifting my hand to show him the ring.
Though I'm not sorry at all. He may be a good-looking guy but he's no Ryker.
He pulls the barstool out that Ryker was sitting on before our dance and takes a seat. "That's fine, I don't mind."
Yuck.
"Well, I'm sure he'll mind. And you're in his seat," I tell him, hoping he'll get the hint that my husband is in the bar and should leave before Ryker sees him.
But he grins instead.
“You're the most beautiful woman in this bar. All I want to do is come by and say hi. Is that a crime?"
"Depends on what country you're in." The deep timber of my husband’s voice comes from directly over my shoulder.
I look back over my shoulder to find Ryker staring daggers at the guy sitting in his spot, his sage green eyes darkening to a deeper hue than I've ever seen before.
I've seen Ryker angry on the ice, but I've never seen it up close. He always seems so calm, even when he's upset. Like when he kicked Amelia out of the penthouse.
"She told you she's married. I think it's best you leave."
"We were just talking, man," the guy says, putting up his hands and standing up from the bar stool.
He finally got the message. However, Ryker had to deliver it.
"Don't come anywhere near my wife again," he warns.
"Fuck… ok, I got it," the guy says, and starts walking away.
Ryker stands in the same place, and even in the dimness of the bar, I can see his heart beating wildly at the pulse point of his neck.
I put my hand on Ryker’s arm.
“Ryker, it’s fine. Just come sit with me,” I say.
But he ignores my request.
“Come with me,” he says back.
“Where are we going?”
“Just come with me, please," he says, opening his hand and offering it up for me to take.
The vulnerability in his eyes has me lifting my hand off his arm and placing it in his.
He guides me carefully off the barstool and then leads me through the bar, past table after table until we near the bathrooms.
He turns into the alcove where the men’s and women’s bathrooms are.
“We’re going to the bathroom?”
He pushes through the men’s bathroom with my hand still in his.
“Anyone in here?” he asks.
No one answers.
