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When he notices me staring, he flashes a cocky smile and flicks his hand in a casual wave.
Alex follows my gaze. “You should go thank him,” she says with a grin.
“For what?”
“You flew here on his plane.”
My jaw drops. “Oh my God.” I turn to Ryder. “We flew on Vizza Billity’s plane.” Although now it makes sense why everything was white.
“He’s actually pretty cool,” Alex says. “I’ll introduce you in a bit. First I want to hear everything you’re up to.”
We haven’t seen each other since Tahoe, but it’s hard to catch up over the pounding music and we spend most of the time screaming in each other’s ears. Meanwhile, Ryder stands there sipping a whiskey the server just delivered to him. I ordered my trusty scotch and soda, which made him grin.
“So, this is a thing,” Alex remarks, her manicured finger dancing between Ryder and me.
“Yes,” I answer, rolling my eyes.
“You’re tall,” she tells him.
“Thanks?”
“It’s an observation, not a compliment.”
Ryder chokes out a laugh.
“And you’re both hockey players,” she continues, giggling at me. “You and your hockey player fetish.”
“It’s not a fetish,” I say with a loud snort.
“Wasn’t the last one a hockey player too?”
Ryder narrows his eyes.
She flips her hair and touches his arm. “Don’t worry, you’re cuter. And taller.”
My attention suddenly focuses on a familiar face in one of the other booths. I gasp when recognition dawns.
“That’s Mac from Fling or Forever!” I exclaim. “And he’s not with Samantha! Oh my God, I need to text Diana. And my dad.” I grab my phone out of my purse.
ME:
Spoiler alert for Fling or Forever finale. Text unsubscribe if you don’t want to know.
DIANA:
Tell me!
DAD:
Subscribe.
ME:
Even if Mac and Samantha end up together in the finale next week, they sure as hell aren’t together now.
I punctuate that with the grainy photo I manage to snap of Mac with his tongue down some girl’s throat.
Eventually Alex drags me to the small dance floor. I feel bad abandoning Ryder, but he just waves us off. When I glance over at some point, he’s chatting with Vizza Billity. I wish I had my phone so I could commemorate the moment, but it’s in my purse, which is slung over Ryder’s muscular forearm.
I have successfully managed to turn Briar’s grumpy, bad-boy hockey cocaptain into a hold-my-purse boyfriend.
I’ve won the world.
We take a dancing break, and a waitress comes to take our order for another round. This time Alex requests champagne, and we toast and drink until she drags Ryder to dance while he pleads at me with his eyes to make it stop. But despite his pained look, there’s no way he’s not enjoying having her body rubbing all over him. This time I don’t feel jealous, though. Maybe because his heated gaze remains on me the entire time.
When he returns, he checks his phone and frowns before shoving it back in his pocket.
“Stop checking the time,” I chide.
It’s nearing midnight when a loud burst of noise echoes from the elevator and new arrivals stream in.
Alex glances over and laughs. “Your people are here.”
I grin. “Our people?”
“Hockey crowd.”
The group rolls in, ushered by the staff toward one of the roped-off booths, while half-naked bottle girls race over to serve the newcomers and stroke their egos.
Someone shouts, “Ryder!”
The next thing I know, Owen McKay strides toward us. He and Ryder are exactly the same height, so it’s sort of intimidating when they’re both standing there looming over us.
“Hey.” Owen throws his arms around Ryder in an enthusiastic hug. He pulls back, arching a brow when he notices my cousin. “Hi, aren’t you…?”
Alex bestows him her dazzling smile, and his eyes glaze over.
“Jesus Christ.” He looks back at Ryder. “This is the company you’re keeping now that you’re on the East Coast? Supermodels?” He groans out loud, appreciation heating his eyes as he glances from me to Alex.
Call me a superficial bitch, but I enjoy being included in the category of “supermodel.”
“What’s going on?” Ryder says gruffly. “Didn’t even know you were in town.”
“I didn’t know you were in town,” Owen counters. “What are you doing in Manhattan? You said you were spending the holidays with a friend in Boston.”
Ryder reaches for my hand. Tugs me toward him. “Yeah, this is the friend.” He pauses. “Girlfriend, actually.”
“Nice save,” I tell him.
Chuckling, Owen stares at our joined hands. “Jesus, Luke, there’s a lot you’ve been keeping from me. We have a girlfriend now?”
Ryder shrugs.
“I’m Gigi,” I say, extending my free hand. “It’s nice to meet you. And you already know Alex, apparently.”
“Owen,” he says.
He’s still scrutinizing me, as if my presence in Ryder’s life mystifies him. And when those blue eyes lock on my face, a strange feeling travels through me because I realize they’re the exact shade as Ryder’s. I don’t think I’ve ever been in the same vicinity as two guys with the same dark sapphire eyes.
