Page 24 of Between the Ropes

“You enjoying yourself?” he asks, leaning against the bar next to me.

“Yeah,” I say, even though my mind is elsewhere. “I just got here, but it’s nice to get out.”

Stephen nods, taking a sip of his beer. “You’ve been doing a great job, by the way. Everyone’s really happy to have you onboard. If things keep going this well, I think you will absolutely be offered a permanent position,”

“Thanks. I would really love that.” I say, glancing over his shoulder to where Ryan is still sitting. He’s laughing again, his head thrown back, and I can’t stop watching him. My stomach twists. Why am I like this? It’s like I’m waiting for him to notice me, to acknowledge me in some way. It’s stupid. I don’t even know him, not really anyway. Plus, Stephen just gave me amazing news, news I should be lighting up over, but being this close to Ryan has me completely consumed.

Stephen continues talking, but I’m distracted, my attention constantly shifting back to Ryan. I sip my margarita, trying to focus on the conversation, but my heart isn’t in it. All I want is for Ryan to get up from that booth, so I catch him alone, so I can finally work up the courage to talk to him.

Why is this so hard?

I’ve never been the girl who gets flustered around guys, especially not ones like Ryan. But there's something about him, it’s like he sees right through me. And that scares the hell out of me.

I take another sip of my drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through my veins. Stephen is still talking, but his words blur together as my eyes drift back to Ryan. He’s still sitting there, his gaze sweeping over the room, and for a moment, just a brief second, his eyes meet mine.

I freeze.

His expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in the way he looks at me. It’s like a spark, something that ignites between us, and I feel it in the pit of my stomach.

I need to talk to him.

But I don’t know if I’m brave enough to make the first move.

18

Laughter surrounds me, Jason’s antics getting a rise out of everyone at the table. He’s going on about how he’s been messing with the guys in the locker room, hiding their stuff, watching them lose their minds. Adam Morris is choking on his drink, trying to keep it together while Max Albright wipes tears from his eyes, howling. It’s stupid, but it’s exactly what we need after the show. We’re all loose, the weight of the nights matches finally off our shoulders, knowing we’ve got 72 hours to ourselves before the next one.

I sip my whiskey, savoring the sharp burn as it slides down my throat. No room for extras—no mixers, no unnecessary calories. Discipline. It’s the backbone of everything I do, and it doesn’t stop even on nights like this. I limit myself to one drink, I don’t like to be out of control, but I do enjoy the taste of fine whiskey.The glass is cool in my hand, condensation running down the sides, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

Then I see her.

Natalie.

When I spot her it’s like the entire bar shifts. The noise fades, the people blur, and all I see isher. That dress—black, tight, hugging every curve of her body like it was made just for her. Her blonde hair spills over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the low lights of the bar. She’s a vision, pure and simple. Stunning. My chest tightens, that primal feeling stirring deep inside me.

But I’m not the only one who notices her.

Kyle’s eyes are on her too, his gaze trailing over her in a way that makes my blood boil. I see him stand, his hulking form moving toward her, and without thinking, I rise from my seat, my focus locked on her. My body reacts before my mind does, instinct driving me forward.

She’s talking to Stephen, laughing at something he said, her lips parting in a smile that sends a wave of heat rushing through me. The pull toward her is undeniable, like a current dragging me under, and I’m not fighting it anymore. I’m going to take whats mine.

Just as I reach her, I feel a tug on my arm.

Chrissy.

Her tiny hand grips my forearm, and I glance down to see her wide, drunken smile, her hair wild around her face. Her drink sloshes in her other hand, spilling onto the floor.

“Dance with me, Ryan,” she purrs, her eyes glinting with something she thinks is seductive.

I grit my teeth, fighting back the irritation. “Not now, Chrissy. You’re drunk. Go have fun.”

She tries again, tugging harder, but I sidestep her, my focus snapping back to where Natalie was standing.

Except she’s gone.

I curse under my breath, scanning the room, my heart hammering in my chest. I need to find her.Now.My eyes dart through the crowd, and then I see him—Kyle, standing over her, his massive frame leaning into hers, one of his arms resting on her shoulder like he has some claim on her. Her body language is tense, her smile strained. She’s trying to be nice, but I can see the discomfort in the way she shifts.

A surge of possessiveness crashes through me, raw and primal. She’s not his. She shouldn’t be anywhere near him. I told her that already. I told her he wasn’t safe. I told her not to be alone with him.

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