I repeat my mantra to myself several times. I am Phoebe Adams. I am a strong woman. I am a survivor. Once I’ve said the mantra enough to convince myself it’s true, I stand and exit the restroom.
I walk down the hallway with my head bowed, my mind full of all the things Hailey has to look forward to. Things I will never have. Marriage, children, happiness. I threw those things away. Well, not the happiness part. My past and happiness do not belong in the same sentence.
Too busy wallowing in self-pity, I miss the man standing at the end of the hallway, blocking the entrance to the bar. I run smackdab into him. “Oh, sorry,” I say and try to move around him.
His hand grasps my upper arm to stop me. “Phoebe, isn’t it?”
A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of his deep voice. I look up and gasp. Shit. Shit. Shit. This man is dangerous. I can feel it. I met him a few months ago when he approached me at the bar and asked for my name. When I told him my name was Phoebe Adams, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. I was convinced I’d been found out, but I haven’t seen the man since. I thought I was in the clear. I guess I was wrong.
“Um, yes.” I clear my throat. “And you are?”
“Ryker,” he grunts.
The name Ryker fits him to a T. He’s tall – way taller than me and I’m five-foot-nine. He must be at least six-six. He’s also wide as a linebacker. And it’s all muscle, not an ounce of fat to be seen on this man. His long-sleeved Henley is pulled taut over his chest and stretched to the limit on his biceps.
He’s handsome in a rough, outdoorsy way. He sports a scruffy, dark beard, and his hair is a bit long and out of control, as if he couldn’t be bothered to waste any time on it. My eyes land on his and I swallow before I can gasp. They are bright, mossy green and I swear they can see right through me.
My body warms and I nearly stumble when I realize I’m interested in this man. I haven’t been interested in any man in such a long time I barely recognize what the warming in my belly means.
“Can I help you?” I ask after I wrestle my hormones into control. I am cool and collected. I am the ice queen after all.
“Yeah.” He leans closer. “Do you want to go out with me?”
Go out with him? Whether I want to or not is immaterial. I can’t go out with him. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that men cannot be trusted. Which is why I’ve sworn them off, except for book boyfriends. Book boyfriends are the only boyfriends in my future. I look up at him, determined to tell him no, and my body starts to tingle from the heat in his eyes.
“I …”
Suzie comes barreling around the corner. I never thought I’d be excited to see her.
“This is a private party. What are you doing here?” She’s a foot and half shorter than him, but she has no problem getting right up in his face. I should take lessons from her.
“My mistake,” he says with a shrug. “I’ll see you around.” I’m not sure if his words are a threat or a promise.
Suzie watches him leave. “Wow. The man is h-a-w-t. Hawt.” She fans her face. “You should totally go to bonetown with him.”
Go to bonetown? I’ve never taken a trip to bonetown. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a virgin, but bonetown sounds like way more fun than I’ve ever had in the sack. Unfortunately, I will not be going to bonetown with him or any other man. Sigh. My life sucks.
“Come on.” I put my hands on her shoulders and steer her toward the bar. “Let’s get you a drink to celebrate.”
At the word drink, Suzie forgets all about Ryker. I shudder. His name is as sexy as the man himself. I better not see him again or I’ll be in trouble. And I’m already in enough trouble to last a lifetime.