I stare quietly at Ryan. He’s turning fiftyshades of red.
“What’s Ryan’s usual?” I ask Sean evenly.
He shrugs, “You know, dark hair, light eyes.Neither of which you have.”
“Do you know all of Ryan’s girlfriends?” Iask coolly.
Sean’s lips twist up into a wicked smile,“Ryan doesn’t have girlfriends. He has fuck friends.”
Ouch. As if it isn’t enough that Ryan takesoff his clothes for half the women in New York City, I now have avisual of the ones he likes to take home.
“What’s your name?” Sean asks like mypresence is entertaining.
“Alana,” Ryan bites, catching us both bysurprise.
Sean pauses as if connecting the dots. Thenhe glances quickly to me and then back to Ryan, “Is that some kindof coincidence or something, bro?”
Ryan shakes his head sternly. Sean’s eyesgrow a little wider as he gauges his brother’s response.
He must know all about me.
“Nice to meet you Sean,” I say sardonically.“I’m Ryan’s girlfriend.”
Sean dips his head and then looks up at mewith a cocky grin. “Nice to finally meet you, Alana. I’ve heardsomuch about you.”
“And I you,” I respond audaciously, neverbreaking eye contact with him.
I measure up the person mostly responsiblefor our separation. I say mostly because Ryan played a part too,but it was Sean who lit the fuse.
“So what are you doing in NYC Sean?” Ryanasks. “I thought you couldn’t leave the state of New Jersey.”
Sean scoffs, “It’s the city, it doesn’tcount.”
“I think your PO might disagree with that,”Ryan contends.
“She’ll never know.”
“Let’s hope not.”
The waitress comes over, interrupting theirtaut chitchat. Sean orders a coffee. Black with a double shot ofespresso. Damn, and I thought I liked it strong.
I gauge him as he looks at Ryan. His voicesounds relaxed, but his body language tells a different story. Hisfingers never stop twitching and neither does his leg. It’s likethere’s a rhythm only he can hear.
“So,” Ryan presses after Sean gets hiscaffeine.
“So what?” Sean sounds implicated. “I went tothe clinic this morning and decided it was a nice day. So I hoppedon the train to come hit up my little brother.”
Clinic?
“Hit him up for what exactly?” Ryan crosseshis arms. I look at Sean. He has another tattoo on the side of hisneck - the number 1254 - and I can’t help but wonder what itmeans.
“That hurts bro,” Sean pounds his chestfaking injured feelings. “I thought we could hang out, but I seeyou already have plans,” he says, and I can’t tell if his words aregenuine or sarcastic. He’s kind of hard to read. I do know onething about him though; he’s on one hell of an ego trip.
“You’re right, I do have plans, and I’m goingto be busy for a while,” Ryan smirks at me, then shoots Sean anirritated look.
Sean’s eyes narrow, “I gotcha brother.”
“I hope you do.”