About That Night (3 page)

Rylann shook her head.
Not a chance.
“Didn’t your mother ever warn you about that kind of guy, Rae?”

“Yep. On my sixteenth birthday, when Troy Dempsey pulled into my driveway and asked if I wanted to go for a ride on his motorcycle.”

“Did you go?” Rylann asked.

“Hell, yes. I was wearing a denim miniskirt, and I burned my calf on the exhaust pipe. Still have the scar to this day.”

“There’s a lesson to be learned there,” Rylann said.

“Never wear a denim miniskirt?”

Rylann laughed. “That, too.”
And stay away from bad boys.

They moved on from the subject of Kyle Rhodes and joined their friends in the Fifth Amendment fracas. Before Rylann realized it, over an hour had passed, and she was surprised when she checked her watch and saw that it was after midnight. She caught herself glancing in the direction of the pool table—her treacherous eyes seemed to have a will of their own that night—and noticed that Kyle Rhodes and his friends were gone.

Which was just fine with her.

Really.

THE BAR LIGHTS came on, a signal that it was time for everyone to clear out.

Rylann checked her watch impatiently, saw that it was a quarter past one in the morning, and wondered what could be taking Rae so long in the bathroom. She didn’t think her friend was sick—sure, they’d both had a few drinks that night, but they’d spread them out over several hours.

When another person, the third in the last five minutes, bumped into Rylann in the half stampede/half stumble of drunk patrons to the door, she figured she should check on what was keeping Rae. Moving against the herd, she waded deeper into the bar. Without warning, a guy slammed into her from the left, spilling his beer down the front of her black V-neck shirt.

Rylann cringed as the cold, sticky liquid trickled between her breasts and down her stomach. She glared at the culprit, a guy wearing a Greek-lettered baseball cap low on his forehead. “That’s just great,” she said dryly.

He managed a lopsided grin. “Sorry.” He turned around and pushed his friend. “Look what you made me do, asshole!”

As Asshole & Co. made their way out of the bar without another glance in her direction, Rylann shook her head. “Undergrads,” she muttered under her breath. No more campus bars, she decided. Sure, the drinks were cheap, but they clearly needed to find someplace with a more
cerebral
crowd.

“Now, now, counselor. Not so long ago, that could’ve been your pledge-dance date.”

Rylann recognized that teasing tone. She turned around and saw Smug Dimples, aka Kyle Rhodes, relaxing against the bar, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

She walked over, resolved to remain cool in the face of such undeniable attractiveness, and tried to decide how annoyed she was that his assessments of her were getting more accurate. She
had
been in a sorority and had, in fact, gone to pledge dances and several other functions with inebriated frat guys in baseball caps who inevitably ended up spilling beer on her at some point in the night. Good times.

She stopped alongside Kyle at the bar and pointed to the stack of cocktail napkins behind him. “Napkin, please.”

“You’re not going to tell me that I’m wrong about your pledge-dance date back there?”

“It was a lucky guess.” Rylann held out her hand and repeated her request. “Napkin.”

Kyle looked her over, then turned to the man standing behind the bar. “Think we could get a towel, Dan?”

“Sure, no problem, Kyle.” The bartender opened a cabinet underneath the bar and pulled out a fresh towel. He handed it to Kyle, who passed it over to Rylann.

“Thank you. They seem to know you around here, Kyle.” She pointedly repeated his first name so that she didn’t need to feign cluelessness if he offered it. For some reason, she didn’t want him to know that Rae had told her who he was.

“The manager is a friend of mine.” Kyle gestured to his two friends, who were playing pool in the corner of the bar. “He gives us free drinks. Can’t beat that deal.”

Rylann bit back a laugh. She wouldn’t have thought that a billionaire’s son would care about getting a
deal
on drinks. Then again, having never met a billionaire’s son before, she really didn’t know what they cared about.

She dabbed at her wet shirt with the towel, grateful that she’d worn black and didn’t have to worry about see-through issues. She half-expected Kyle to make some kind of smirky remark about the way the material clung to her chest, but he said nothing. And when she’d finished with the towel and set
it on the bar, she looked up and found his eyes on hers, not zoned in on her boobs.

“So where are your friends?” he asked.

Shit! Rae
. Rylann had completely forgotten about her after Frat Boy had dumped the beer down her shirt. “That’s a good question.” She looked around the bar and noticed that it was empty except for a few stragglers. Neither Rae nor her other law school friends were among them.

This was starting to get odd.

“She was supposed to meet me by the front door after she went to the bathroom, but she never came back…Excuse me for a moment.” Rylann left Kyle standing at the bar and strode into the ladies’ room. A quick check of the stalls revealed they were all empty.

After exiting the ladies’ room, she headed toward the wide wooden staircase that led to the second floor. A bouncer promptly cut her off at the pass.

“Bar’s closed,” he said. “You need to make your way to the door.”

“I’m looking for my friend who said she was going to the bathroom. There’s one upstairs, right?”

“Yes, but there’s no one in it. I just checked,” the bouncer said.

“Is there anyone still hanging out by the bar? Tall girl, light brown hair, wearing a red shirt?”

The bouncer shook his head. “Sorry. The whole floor’s empty.”

Kyle appeared at Rylann’s side as the bouncer walked off.

“Okay, now I’m worried,” she said, more to herself than to him.

“Does she have a cell phone?” Kyle asked.

Rylann frowned. “Yes, but I don’t.” She caught Kyle’s look and went on the defensive. Rae, and pretty much everyone else she knew, had been nagging her to get a cell phone all year. “Hey, those plans aren’t exactly cheap.”

He pulled a black cell phone out of his jeans pocket. “It’s called ‘free evening minutes.’ Welcome to 2003.”

“Ha, ha.” Rylann thought about leveling him with a
withering stare but decided against it—she really could use that cell phone. The sass could wait.

She took the phone from Kyle, realizing that this was the second time she’d accepted help from him in the last five minutes. Common courtesy meant this obligated her to be at least somewhat pleasant to him.

Crap.

She dialed Rae’s number and waited as the phone rang.

“Hello?” her friend answered in a perplexed tone.

Rylann breathed a sigh of relief. “Rae, where are you? I’m standing here like an idiot waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. But you’re not
in
the bathroom.”

“Carpe diem.”

Rylann scooted a few feet away from Kyle. “‘Carpe diem’? What do you mean by that?” She had a funny feeling she wasn’t going to like whatever her friend was about to say next.

“It’s Latin for ‘Don’t kill me.’ “

Oh boy
.

“What did you do, Rae?”

“Okay, here’s what happened: when I came out of the bathroom, I saw Kyle Rhodes at the bar, checking you out,” Rae said. “I decided that if you aren’t going to treat yourself to a little fun after the long year we’ve had, then I’m going to make the fun come to you. So I grabbed the guys, and we all sneaked out the back door.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. He’s the son of a billionaire, Rylann. And he’s gorgeous. You should be thanking me, actually. We’re already a block away from Shane’s apartment, and I think I’ll hang out here for a while. Give you some space.”

Rylann lowered her voice further. “This goes against the woman code, Rae. We never leave one of our own behind. Now I have to walk home by myself.”

“Not if everything goes as planned…” Rae sounded very evil genius-like before her tone turned coy. “Whose phone is this, anyway?”

No way was Rylann going to answer that. “Come to think of it, I am going to kill you. And then I’m going to steal the
black Manolos you bought last winter and dance in them at your funeral.” She hung up the phone with emphasis.

She walked over to Kyle and handed the phone back to him.

“So?” he asked.

Rylann quickly thought up an excuse. “One of our friends got sick, so Rae and the others had to get him home fast.”

“Or maybe she left you here so that you’d be stuck with me.”

Rylann threw up her hands. “Okay, that’s freaky. How would you know that?”

Kyle shrugged. “I heard the ‘carpe diem’ part and guessed. I have a twin sister. I’ve seen how her and her friends’ scary matchmaking minds work.”

Rylann blushed. “I hope you know that I had nothing to do with this.”

Kyle seemed more amused than bothered by Rae’s schemes. “Don’t worry, counselor, I won’t have you charged as a co-conspirator.” He nodded toward the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

Rylann began making her way toward the exit. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I only live eight blocks away.”

Kyle scoffed as he followed her to the door. “Like I’m going to let a woman walk home by herself at one thirty in the morning. My mother raised me better than that.”

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.” Not that it was Rylann’s first choice to walk home alone, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t made similar late-night treks across campus as an undergrad. Besides, Kyle Rhodes was a virtual stranger himself. Who said
he
was safe?

Kyle stopped her just as she reached the front door. “It’s not only what my mother would say; it’s what I think. My sister is a grad student at Northwestern. If I found out that some jerk let her walk home alone this late, I’d kick his ass. So it looks like you’re stuck with me. Like it or not.”

Rylann thought through her options. The speech about his sister seemed genuine enough. From what she could tell, Kyle Rhodes was cocky and trouble, but not
that
kind of trouble.
“All right, fine. You can walk me home.” She paused. “Thank you.”

“See? Was it that hard to be nice to me?”

Rylann pushed the door open and stepped outside. As usual, the crowd was thick in front of the bar as students discussed the all-important questions of which after-hours party to go to and whether to make a pit stop at La Bamba for burritos along the way. “I’m sure there are plenty of women who are more than happy to be nice to you,” she said to Kyle while navigating her way through the crowd. “I figured I’d buck the trend.”

Kyle followed her. “Who’s making assumptions now?”

“You hang out at a bar preying on random women buying multiple drinks. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this isn’t the first time you’ve ‘escorted’ a girl home.”

“First of—” Kyle was cut off as he became momentarily separated from Rylann by a group of women walking in the opposite direction. Ignoring the women’s interested looks, he continued. “First of all, I don’t
prey
on anyone. Second of all, I don’t, as a habit, hang out at bars picking up women. Tonight was an exception. I saw you at the table with your friends and followed you to the bar when you walked over.”

“Why?”

He shrugged matter-of-factly. “I thought you were hot.”

“Thanks,” Rylann said dryly.

An inebriated undergrad stumbled obliviously as he walked past them. Kyle took Rylann by the waist and pulled her out of the man’s path just before they collided.

They stopped at the street corner, keeping a safe distance from the drunk guy, and waited for the light to change. Kyle looked her over. “I didn’t know then that you’d also be this…spicy.”

“You’re free to rescind your initial offer of interest.”

Kyle laughed. “Christ, you
are
a law geek. I’m not rescinding anything. I don’t mind hot and spicy. Actually find that appealing in a girl.” He cocked his head, thinking this over. “And chicken wings.”

Rylann turned her head and stared at him. “Did you really just compare me to chicken wings?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Chicken wings are the bomb.”

Rylann had to fight not to smile at that one. “Why do I get the feeling you’re never serious?”

Kyle gestured with his arm to the surrounding crowd milling on the sidewalk and spilling into the street. The feeling in the air was tangibly ebullient. “Who wants to be serious tonight? Law school’s over for the year, counselor. Live a little.”

Frankly, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of Kyle Rhodes. The logical part of her knew that with the whole hot-billionaire-heir-wearing-work-boots thing he had going for him, she was likely one in a parade of women he’d hit on. Still, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she found the attention at least somewhat flattering. This was a guy many women would chase after, and he was chasing after her.

At least for five minutes.

“Look,” she said to Kyle. “I appreciate you walking me home. Really. But just so we’re on the same page, that’s all this is. A walk.”

The light turned green, and they crossed the street in tandem.

“No offense, but you seem a bit uptight about the rules here,” Kyle said. “Don’t you ever just go with the flow?”

“I’d say I’m more of a planner than a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type.”

He groaned. “I bet you’re one of those people with a five-year plan.”

“Mine’s six.” Rylann caught his look. “What? That’s how long it will take to get where I want to be,” she said with a touch of defensiveness. “Not all of us have the luxury of ambling our way through our twenties until we decide it’s time to grow up, Kyle
Rhodes
.”

Kyle spun around and stopped in front of her, so abruptly that she nearly barreled into him. “Listen, I’m going to fast-forward through the whole give-the-rich-guy-his-comeuppance speech. I’ve been dealing with that routine since high school.” He pointed emphatically. “And I don’t amble my way through
anything. As a matter of fact, the reason I was out celebrating tonight is because I just took my qualifying exam to become a PhD candidate.”