Punk 57(83)

“I need a drink.”

I step off the stage and walk to one of the tables, taking a swig out of the water bottle.

A girl stands behind the bar—one of the owner’s daughters, I think—her chin resting on her hand as she looks at me. She’s about my age. Maybe a year younger.

She looks like Annie. Blonde hair, pert nose, slender shoulders… Annie never listened to me play, though. She wasn’t unsupportive. She was just too busy to take an interest. Of course, I could say the same thing about myself and her hobbies. The only reason I attended as many girls’ volleyball games as I did was because she asked me to be there. She needed people to be proud of her, and I knew why.

The girl smiles at me, and I smile back and then quickly look away.

There was a time when she might’ve been my type. Cute, soft, sweet. But just the memory of Ryen’s nervous breath across my lips before she kissed me that first time in the truck has my body stirring. She’s a complicated, temperamental little mess, but she gets me going.

I pick up my phone and check to see if I have any messages. I’m hoping for anything. A rant. Insults. A bitchy text, telling me to f*ck off.

But nothing. I know I should leave her alone and give her space. There are just so many things yet to say, so much she doesn’t know, and I need to tell her before she pushes me away for good.

Maybe she’ll meet me. Tomorrow at my house, and I can tell her everything. I don’t want to ambush her, but maybe she’ll give me a chance if I open myself up and lay everything on the line.

Clicking my Facebook app, I type in her name and go to her profile, deciding I’ll just send her a message and leave the ball in her court. I have to try. If she doesn’t go for it, then I’ll wait for as long as I need to.

But when her profile pops up, I see a video she’s tagged in, and I hesitate. Without giving myself time to think, I click on it, noticing it was only posted a few minutes ago.

Ryen is standing by a pool, surrounded by people drinking and dancing, with one of her thighs turned out as some guy kneels between her legs.

What the f*ck?

I watch as he dives in, licking a long stroke up the inside of her thigh, as she breaks into laughter and everyone cheers.

The * has his back to the camera, tips back a shot as the crowd eggs him on, and Ryen laughs, sticking a lemon wedge in her mouth and inviting him in to suck it from her.

The music is blaring, and Ryen wraps her arms around him, their mouths touching before she breaks away and starts shaking her body to the music.

“Son of a bitch.” I squeeze the phone in my hand, scrolling the comments to see the party is at Trey’s house. She’s at his house?

And people are sharing this video of some guy licking her, too.

“What’s up?” Dane asks.

I grab my keys off the table and stuff the cell in my pocket. How the f*ck is she at a party at that *’s house, and who the hell is she screwing off with?

“Let’s go,” I bark at the guys.

“Where?”

“I’ll explain in the truck.”

I head through the pool hall, hearing them put their instruments down and run after me. Once outside, I hop in the cab. Dane climbs in the passenger side, and Lotus and Malcolm jump in the bed behind us.

Firing up the engine, I speed away from Sticks and hop onto the highway. I lay on the gas, determined to make the thirty-mile drive in ten minutes. Is she actually drinking at his house? She has to know how stupid that is.

She wants to party? Fine. She wants some space? Okay. But going anywhere near that * or being entertainment for some horny little shit who wants to touch her is pushing me too far. Ryen doesn’t do f*cking body shots. She’s trying to piss me off, and it’s working.

And I think of Annie and what she did to herself, because she wasn’t thinking straight, either.

By the time we make it to Trey Burrowes’ house, I’m more worked up than I’ve ever been, but I know if I go in there half-cocked, she’ll just fight back, and I’ll walk out of there without her.

We climb out of the truck, and I can feel the vibrations of the music out to the street. “Bad Girlfriend” plays, and I glance around, seeing the houses all a good distance away from each other, but some of them have to be able to hear this noise. I’m tempted to call the cops myself, if they haven’t been called already, just to break it up and send Ryen home. But no. I’ll let her choose.

As we walk into the house, a group of girls runs past us to the stairs, laughing and falling into the wall as they stumble up the steps.

“Nice,” Lotus laughs, making like he’s going to follow them.

But I grab his black ponytail and pull him back. We’re not here for that.

“Hey, man.” J.D. comes up, shaking my hand. “I’m glad you’re here. You going to set off some fireworks?”

I laugh to myself, knowing he knows I would rather swallow needles than be in this house. “I wasn’t planning on it. Have you seen Ryen?”

He shakes his head. “Not in the last fifteen minutes.” And then he narrows his eyes on me. “You going to tell me what’s going on between you two?”

“No.”

He snorts. “Okay.” And then he moves around me toward the family room. “I’ll be close. If you need me.”