Page 212 of Break the Ice
“Finley.”
“Hi, Finley.” He offers his hand. “I’m Ryker.”
We shake. He doesn’t let go right away, just eases me a fraction closer. “What’s your poison?”
“Strawberry and lime seltzer, please.”
“Coming up,” he tells the bartender, then to me, “Cheers.”
We tap glasses. I take a long pull and scan for Christina and Honor. Too long. It’s been too long.
“So, what do you do, Finley?” he asks.
“I moved to California a couple months ago,” I say, choosing my words. “Still finding my feet.”
“Is that a roundabout way of saying you’re unemployed?” The crooked grin takes the sting out.
“No.” I sip. He raises his glass.
“Cheers to finding your feet and living your best life while you’re doing it.” He leans in again, closer than I want. “You wanna dance?”
“My friends are in the bathroom.” I edge back, checking over his shoulder.
Summer went to get Parker. Alice is… busy. My pulse ticks higher.
Ryker drops his forehead to my shoulder and laughs. “Good for your friends.”
His closeness skims wrong down my spine. I’m about to excuse myself when an arm hooks around my waist and hauls me away.
“Tonight is not your night, buster.” Christina spins me behind her, eyes raking me head to toe. “Bitch, I leave you for two seconds. Get your pheromones in check.”
I dissolve into laughter, launching into her. “Ryker’s not into women.”
“Let me guess, fuckhead told you that?” she mutters. When I nod, her mouth flattens. “Babe, you can’t be naïve out here. It’s a jungle and assholes like that will say anything to get in your pants.”
I glance back at Ryker scrolling his phone like we’re already forgotten. The prickle in my belly says she’s right.
“I’m sorry.” I hug her hard.
“If your boyfriends find out about this, they’ll never let you out withme again,” she says, palms holding my face. “I’ve missed you too much for that.”
“They’re not the boss of me,” I say, haughty and buzzed.
“Mmhmm,” she chuffs. “And I’m a fairy dust farting unicorn.”
We snort-laugh until my stomach aches.
“I love you, Amish,” she says, kissing my cheek and squeezing until I squeak.
“Love you more, Tina.”
The band hits a track she played on repeat while we got ready. Before she can say a word, I grab her hand and twirl her onto the dance floor. Honor and Alice reappear, Summer returns with Parker, who brackets her belly with both hands, protective and tender. It hits me in the softest place, how much I want my men here, how much I like who I am with them.
“This song is my crack,” Christina squeals, throwing her arms around my shoulders as the chorus crests.
We sing and sway and laugh until the world blurs to light and night and the people who feel like home.
Christina presses her cheek to mine, grinning so big it spreads to me. “Best bitches for life.”
