ryder
I stand at the railing,staring out at the haze blanketing the Los Angeles skyline as the sun slowly sinks toward the Pacific. There’s a party raging behind me on the hotel roof, two hundred people drinking and laughing and chatting, but I pay it no attention at all. I drain my glass in one gulp, barely tasting the whiskey as it slides down my throat. It’s the first drink I’ve had since we got here, but the four I downed on the plane to numb Lacey’s incessant chatter are still sloshing around in my empty stomach.
I don’t know why she thought I’d want to speak to her, after the shit she pulled last night. In fact, I tried two separate times to get the flight attendants to switch my seat before we boarded, to no avail. Lacey either didn’t notice my indifference or simply didn’t care, keeping up a running commentary for the entirety of the four and a half hours we were in the air.
I couldn’t tell you what the hell she said. Sipping my whiskey, I stared out the window with my mind fixed on only one girl — and it sure as shit wasn’t some peroxide blonde psychopath dressed head to toe in bubblegum pink.
Felicity flashes in through my mind in fragments.
Her mouth, parted on a moan.
Her eyes, flashing with heat.
Her fingers, clenching against my skin.
Turning, I cut a path through the crowd, heading for the bar. I need a drink if I’m going to last the whole evening at this gathering. Red Machine’s stocked the place to capacity with newly signed artists, social media influencers, and execs from the label. It’s supposed to be a pool party, but most of the people here aren’t even wearing bathing suits. If they are, they’re the type worn as a fashion statement, never to actually get wet.
Everyone seems just a tad too perfect as they glide around in sarongs and designer heels — their bodies too toned, their teeth too bleached, their tans too even, their enthusiasm too genuine. They eye my bruised face, black jeans, and faded tee with looks ranging from skepticism to outright distaste, as though someone’s let the hired help attend the party by mistake.
I’m almost to the bar when Lacey’s familiar shrieks pierce my eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. My head turns in time to catch a glimpse of some blond surfer type picking her up and jumping into the water. Three girls in barely-there bikinis and sky-high stilettos scowl when they’re hit with the resulting splash, shooting death glares at my singing partner.
Lacey Briggs, ladies and gentlemen. Making friends wherever she goes.
At the bar, I wait for an available bartender. They’re all slammed making complex cocktails for every girl in the crowd who wants some low-calorie, high-maintenance drink. I overhear someone ordering something called a Skinny Cucumber Cosmo —with a twist— and snort under my breath. Apparently I’ve left theshot-and-a-beercrowd behind in Nashville.
Shame.
A raven-haired girl in a hot pink dress props herself onto the stool beside mine to wait. She smiles and I nod politely in return.
“Hey,” she says after a minute of awkward silence.
My eyes slide over. “Hey.”
“So, should I see the other guy, or…?”
My brows go up. “Excuse me?”
“Your face,” she clarifies, indicating my bruised cheekbone and split lip. “Usually, when you ask someone about a fight, they say,you should see— Oh, forget it. A joke you have to explain isn’t worth repeating.” She laughs. “I’m Becca.”
“Ryder.”
“Pretty lame party, huh?”
I shrug. “Don’t really have anything to compare it to. It’s my first night in LA.”
“Promise me you won’t judge all of us by this crowd.” She grimaces. “I swear, it’s usually more fun than this.”
“How do you know I’m not having fun?”
“You mean besides the perpetual scowl on your face…?” She giggles. “Don’t worry, the group orgy in the pool should liven things up, later.”
I stare at her.
“Kidding!” She giggles again. “God, my jokes really aren’t panning out today, are they?”
“It might not be you. I’m in a particularly shitty mood.”
“Horny, heartbroken, or in need of a hit?” she asks, winking. For the first time, I notice how wide her pupils are, the black almost overtaking her pale blue irises. “If it’s the latter, there are plenty of people here who can hook you up.”