Page 33 of Rear View

Ryah

The pub was conveniently located across the street from the hotel, a fact that made walking in my heels infinitely easier. They were pretty, but built for comfort, they were not.

The place was noisy, but the upbeat kind.

A band played in the far corner, and there was a small dance floor in the middle.

The walls were dark-stained wood, the old sort, with nicks and names carved into them from patrons of years past. The air was warm and thick with the scent of fried foods and alcohol.

The surrounding booths and tables were mostly filled with the team, who were still riding their high off the stages from earlier.

Xavier, me, Alec and Sheila stood at the bar, chatting and watching the crowd while we waited to order.

The bartender tapped the counter. “What can I getcha?”

Leaning in, Xavier set his mouth to my ear. “What would you like, darlin’?”

A warm shiver ran up my spine as I bit my lip. I pressed closer. “A vodka cranberry,” I declared, my tone high with an entirely disproportionate amount of enthusiasm.

He ordered, and the drinks arrived right away. I drank the first one quickly, so he ordered a second on the heels of it.

Sheila wiggled closer, taking up post on my other side. “Us girls need to stick together.”

I clanked my glass to hers. “How’re the wedding plans going?”

Her expression lit the room as she counted things off on her fingers. “We secured the venue, the caterer, the photographer and the officiant. I wanna send out the save the dates in a few days. Give everyone from out of town time to make travel arrangements.”

“You’re killing it!”

She smiled and gestured between Xavier and me. “I’m assuming you’ll be his plus-one.”

“Damn right she will,” he cut in.

I trailed a finger down my throat and bowed my head to hide the blush burning my cheeks.

Sheila shimmied her shoulders and nudged Alec. “Told you.”

He laughed and tipped his glass in salute.

Turning back to me, she pulled out her phone. “We’ve decided to do paperless. Give me your email. I’ll send the info to you.” She shook her head. “Lord knows X’ll just lose it anyway.”

I snickered and told her what it was, before the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A clawing feeling gripped my spine, as if someone was watching me. I glanced around, but half the attention in the place was fixed our way, drawn to my rally driver.

Xavier brushed my wrist. “You good?”

My smile was tight. “Yeah.”

His eyes tracked between mine. “Sure ’bout that?”

It’s just a bar, Ryah. Stop being paranoid. He’s not here. I sipped my drink and nodded.

“Xavier!” a group of guys called from nearby.

His gaze held mine while his head turned toward them, only releasing at the last moment. They closed in, clapping his shoulder before they asked him and Alec for autographs and pictures. I made to step aside, but Xavier caught me.

“Stay,” he said low.

I smiled and did as he said, but turned my back to the crowd, because the last thing I needed was my face floating around online.

Yara dipped in, and their group fell into talk about the rally car, and a series of technical and mechanical things that soared way over my head.

Sheila found me and playfully rolled her eyes at it all.

“Can we buy you guys a beer?” one of the fans asked.

“Appreciate it, but we’re on water tonight,” Alec said. “Gotta keep a clear head for tomorrow.”

Yara’s hand shot skyward. “You can buy me one.”

Xavier’s lip pulled up as he peered my way and winked.

My core clenched, and my mouth ran dry. God, he was sexy. Those eyes, that jaw and the black hoodie he wore that showed off his broad shoulders. He was everything I wanted. And I was desperate for him.

I needed a distraction. Fast. Ducking down, I took a selfie of me with my drink, then pinged it off to Zoya. Of anyone, my photo was safe in her hands, because the girl knew enough not to share it.

Less than ten seconds later, a shock-faced emoji arrived.

Zoya: IS THAT ALCOHOL???

Me: Sure is. I’m living dangerously.

I snickered. Or just actually…living.

Xavier side-eyed me.

“Z thinks it’s funny I’m drinking.” My stomach dropped because the words were out before I could stop them. Dammit, Ryah!

The music changed to a faster tempo, a fiddle playing wildly in the background.

His stare narrowed. “You don’t drink?”

Crap. I wasn’t drunk. Not by any stretch, but said alcohol had gone and loosened my stupid tongue.

I’d fallen deeper and deeper for Xavier.

I loved the way he looked at me, like I was beautiful, and fun, and normal .

His career was soaring, so I didn’t need to add the weight of my baggage to his shoulders. Become a burden.

I shook my head. “I’m just paranoid.”

My phone buzzed again with another text.

Zoya: So, have you two…? *Wink. Wink*

Me: Wink, wink?

Zoya: You know what I mean. Now spill!

I bit my lip and eyed Xavier again.

Me: I’ll keep you posted.

Tucking my phone away, I drank deep, feeling the alcohol as it warmed its way down my throat.

Someone bumped my shoulder and instinct had me turning to apologize, but the hooded guy was already ten steps out, melting into the crowd.

The group around us thinned and Xavier angled my way. “Get over here.” He banded his arms around my waist before he dragged me to him so my back was against his chest.

I sank into him, loving every second as I breathed, “Thank you for letting me meet your mom.”

“You’re welcome.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Wish she could be here in person. See all this.”

My heart twisted. What was that like? To be completely alone. His brother gone, father in jail and his mother in hiding. I might’ve isolated myself, but I still had my family. Yet for Xavier, every success, every milestone, it was just him.

“How’d you do it?” I said, my voice soft and low. Only for his ears.

There was a flash, as if someone’d taken a picture. My head snapped around, scanning the room, but whoever it’d been, I couldn’t tell.

The music slowed, the song sultrier. Xavier moved us to it. “Do what?”

My gaze slid to his. “Survive?”

His Adam’s apple dipped low when he swallowed hard. “I did what I had to do. No rear view. No lookin’ back.”

No looking back.

The words struck my already heated blood. I was two drinks deep and feeling good. Relaxed. Happy. So damn happy. I sighed and leaned farther into him.

His warm, calloused hands stroked my side. “You doin’ alright, dream girl?”

My head brushed his shoulder when I nodded.

The song changed, a faster tempo this time, with a heavy base.

I started to sway, my hips rolling as I let my liquid courage guide me and I pushed my ass into him.

He cleared his throat, his fingers tightening over my ribs like he was trying to control himself. But I didn’t want that control.

“Why don’t you touch me more?” I asked.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest. He canted forward, setting his mouth against my temple. “We move at your pace, yeah.”

I frowned. “I thought speed was your thing.”

He rasped a laugh. “When it comes to you, we go slow. With everything.”

Half-turning, I peered at him over my shoulder. Those arctic eyes held mine when I uttered, “What if I wanna go faster?”

His grip snapped to my hips, and he spun me to face him. My hair whipped through the air, brushing his pecs before it cascaded over my chest. He hooked his knuckle under my chin, angling me up. “There’s no brakes on this one. Once I start, I ain’t gonna stop.”

My heart did a stutter step as his words sank in. He wanted me, and he wanted me bad. My body screamed for him. Pleaded, and clawed, crawling on its knees for his attention. I needed it. Couldn’t wait anymore.

I languidly grazed my hands over his chest, nails raking his flesh before I plunged them into his hair and pulled him to me. My words were scarce above a whisper when I said, “And what if I don’t want you to stop?”

He edged one of his palms to the base of my spine while the other gripped the back of my neck.

Sealing his arms tight, he pressed every line of my body to his.

That intense, glacial stare pinned mine, the heat burning there darkening that ice to a smoldering smoke. “You want me to touch you, darlin’?”

My knees grew weak, my breath coming in soft pants before it hitched in my lungs. “Yes.”

He drew back, but barely. His stare dipped, skimming my throat, and breasts, down to my waist and hips, lingering over the V of my thighs before it lifted again. “Tell me where.”

My core ignited because sweet baby Jesus, that was hot. My words were a soft, husky lilt when I practically begged, “Everywhere.”