Page 9 of Clashing

Chapter six

Distractions

Scarlett

C old air coasted over my back, and I shivered. I reached out, but instead of finding Ryker, I found the edge of the bed. Opening my eyes revealed his absence. My chest bowed under a heavy weight. He didn’t owe me anything. We had a casual fuck. I couldn’t be upset he didn’t stay.

Did he wait until I fell asleep to leave?

Great. Another thing to be embarrassed about.

Worse, I couldn’t avoid him. Tammy told me he and his friends came in every Friday through Sunday, occasionally dropping in during the week as well.

Apparently, he was part of a biker club that frequented the bar.

They’d all served in the military at some point.

Ryker had been a Marine. That explained his insane body and stoic demeanor.

Stoic demeanor when he's not flirting, at least .

I’d planned to stay away from him when he came in last night, but he sat at the bar watching me, and I grew increasingly horny under his attention. He made it pretty clear he wanted me before he said the words, and it was stupid to deny I wanted him. Being with him was next level.

Until it all came crashing down. I freaked out.

Lost control. Hurtled into a different place with a different person.

Ryker had been the one with me, but that small touch confused my mind, and when I tried to reassure myself, all I saw was Todd’s face.

His unwanted intrusion. Stupid. Nothing like that had ever happened before.

Thinking about it turned my stomach and made me want to cry all over again, but I’d cried enough.

Unwilling to wallow, I forced myself up for a shower and hurled Ryker’s shirt into the corner.

I made myself get dressed and eat while watching the local channels Dan’s old TV received.

He didn’t upgrade with the times. Only recently did I get him to send a text, and it wasn’t likely to happen with anyone but me. Set in his ways, he hated technology.

I can’t believe I have to face Ryker after last night. Mortification told me to curl into a ball and not leave my room, the thought of interacting with him abhorrent.

Throughout the day, my pissed-off demeanor shifted focus. Anger at myself overpowered my anger with him. He hadn’t done anything I shouldn’t have expected. A guy who blatantly says “I want to fuck you” is not the kind of guy who spends the night.

Still, I thought he would since he handled everything so well. Shockingly well. He knew I needed to be covered up and held. Knew what to say. Didn’t push and was very sweet.

I almost wished he hadn’t been so I could be pissed at him rather than me.

Instead of being angry, I wanted him all over again.

Last night, before my stupid episode, was by far the best sex I’d ever had.

Despite being a bigger girl, he threw me around like I weighed nothing.

If it weren’t for me freaking out, we probably would’ve gone again. Maybe all night.

Then I ruined it, and he probably didn’t want to deal with me again. He probably thought I was weak and needy. I hated looking that way, especially to someone like him. He was all tough guy—rarely smiled, never showed emotion unless teasing—and I cried like a baby on his shoulder.

Could you be more pathetic?

Not only that, now he knew something very personal. Something no one knew except Todd. That fucking asshole. At least I wasn’t crying anymore. At least I was angrier than anything else now. Anger was easier than sadness.

My stomach knotted. I’d be lucky if Ryker touched me again.

He was probably afraid to lest I fall into tears while he gave me an orgasm.

The worst part? I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

How he’d act when I saw him tonight or how I’d act, I didn’t know.

I only hoped he’d keep his word about not telling anyone.

He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to spread gossip, but I also didn’t know him well.

Can’t even make it two weeks without creating another problem. Why did I generate drama everywhere I went? I was a magnet for it. The mess with Todd—how did that happen? I inherited my mother’s horrible taste in men is how, I guess.

That wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t blame her.

The painful truth was I didn’t know what a healthy relationship looked like.

I wasn’t good at making friends, so I had no one to ask except Dan, who was divorced, and my mother, who only picked douchebags.

Tammy seemed nice enough, and despite Ryker being a fucking god, she hadn’t batted an eye at him.

Maybe I could try to be friends with Tammy.

How do people make friends? I only had one friend before moving.

I got made fun of a lot in middle school and high school for being a thicker girl.

I was always socially awkward. Always too much for people to handle.

And last night, I’d been too much for Ryker.

Dwelling on it wouldn’t help. I threw my frustration into working at the bar.

Dan would be home Sunday, so I had one more night without him.

After last night, my self-esteem took a hit.

I skipped the short skirts and plunging shirts.

Instead, I wore a slightly longer skirt— still want those tips —and a blouse that was low but not plunging.

Every time the bar door opened, my heart raced, and I subtly glanced over.

A sigh of both relief and disappointment escaped every time it wasn’t Ryker.

The sun disappeared below the horizon before his usual group swaggered through the door.

At first, I thought maybe he was avoiding me since he often entered first, but no, he walked in last with one of the guys, chatting on their way to the bar.

My breath caught as they both sat. Ryker’s eyes found mine, and my heart stopped.

A half-smile played on his face. “Hey, Scarlett. Can you get us both my usual?”

Unable to speak, I nodded and placed two glasses in front of the guys. I poured a double of Ryker’s favorite scotch, GlenDronach Parliament. Apparently, he had a lot of money because it wasn’t cheap, and he always paid in cash with a generous tip.

As I poured their drinks, he didn’t look at me again.

It shouldn’t have bothered me. Yet, it took me a moment to give up and move on to another customer.

Unlike last night, his gaze didn’t follow me everywhere I went.

Was it because of my change in clothes or his change of heart?

Or maybe he’d done exactly what he wanted. He fucked me, and now he was done.

Maybe I would’ve been okay with it if not for my freak-out, and the moment I thought we had while he held me.

No. He was just being nice. He may be a fuck them and leave them type, but unfortunately, he was also a sweetie.

It was the second time in one night I’d witnessed his soft side, and I hated it.

It would’ve been a lot easier if he were a jerk.

Serving kept me distracted until I got less and less tables.

New people came in, and after their initial greeting, asked for Tammy.

I was getting pushed to the bar. Again. I glared at Ryker, but he never spared me a glance.

Somehow, he’d done this. I ended up with one single table.

Tammy had the rest while I worked the bar.

What the hell? There were way more seats at tables than at the bar. She had more than half the people in here. I couldn’t be mad at her because I knew the culprit.

Getting his attention didn’t work. Anytime I tried to talk to him, he’d turn away from me and focus on his friend instead. My palm prickled with the desire to slap him.

What’s worse, my body responded to him anyway.

One look at him in jeans and the black shirt showing off his sculpted body, and I ached.

Last night was an experience , and despite my annoyance, my vagina remembered his attentiveness.

Now, I’d never feel him again. All the sex in my life seemed suddenly boring comparatively.

That jackass.

Needless to say, being stuck behind the bar except for one table and being horny on top of it, with the reason for my horniness inches away, I got crabby.

I played it off well with my customers, but the more Ryker avoided me, the more everything about him agitated me.

Was he that put off by my display? I knew it was bad, but come on .

Fine. If he was going to be that way, I would too. I refused to look at him. Not even when I refilled his and his stupid friend’s drinks. Everyone else I chatted—and sometimes flirted—with. Not him. I was done hoping for his attention.

Maybe I needed someone else. I’d already broken my rule of swearing off men.

It seemed ridiculous to jump from one guy to another, but Ryker was off the table, and I had a distinctive urge to have my next sexual encounter end better.

I couldn’t dwell on that as the last time I had sex.

That, and I might have needed to feel more in control.

The idea rolled around in my head, especially regarding the single table I had left.

One guy’s gaze had glued to me the moment he walked in.

His flirtatious smile was cute. The table had been there for hours, almost since we opened, so they didn’t fall victim to Ryker’s plan to keep me behind the bar.

Initially, I talked to the flirty guy like anyone else. Then I stood there, cleaning a glass and observing him. He wasn’t as average as I’d made him out to be. He just wasn’t Ryker.

This stranger had a trim build with an obvious dedication to bicep curls, blond hair, and green eyes. Not a bad combination. Maybe I’ll be a little friendlier when I approach this time.

Their pitcher of beer dwindled. I adjusted my shirt to show more cleavage and sauntered over, fixing my gaze on Green Eyes. “Another round, boys?”

“Please.” Green Eyes grinned. “You know how to take care of a guy, Scarlett.”