I Did Before I Do: A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance (No Regrets Ink Book 2)

by Adele Niles

  He was hooking up with other women behind my back.

  But I couldn’t even think of it like that. We weren’t dating or anything. We hadn’t even really had sex. I’d just let myself get a stupid crush on a guy who would never want to be in a serious relationship.

  “God, Sydney,” I said, shaking my head. “God, you’re so stupid, you’re so stupid!”

  I balled my hands into fists, slamming them on the steering wheel. The horn beeped, but I didn’t care, even when my neighbor turned on their porch light.

  “Stupid,” I mumbled again, leaning forward and resting my head on the steering wheel.

  I sniffled and grabbed my purse, finally getting out of my car and going inside. I stood in the entry of my apartment and took a look around. Was this how my life was going to be? A lonely virgin living in a half-furnished apartment? I didn’t even own a real bed, just a mattress on the floor.

  I just needed to adopt about five cats, and I’d seal my own fate.

  I dropped my purse on the table and went into the kitchen, where I poured a glass of wine. While it breathed, I changed into pajamas and pulled my hair up.

  I could at least unpack some of my things, since I clearly wasn’t doing anything else with my life.

  Good men didn’t exist. All men cared about was getting their dicks wet. It didn’t matter if they hurt somebody in the process—they just wanted to fuck as many girls, or guys, as possible.

  I’d wanted Ryker to be different. Even with Kenzie telling me he wasn’t, I’d wanted it so bad.

  He was just as awful as Mark.

  But I still wanted him.

  God, what was wrong with me?

  I went to my purse, grabbing my phone. I pulled it out and sighed.

  No texts.

  I opened our thread anyway, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. What could I say?

  Hey, that was fucked up, especially after you sent me flowers.

  Do you have any idea how stupid I feel?

  Why?

  How could you?

  I didn’t type any of it.

  What good would it do? He’d have an excuse. Men always had excuses. They could always justify their actions.

  It never mattered that I was hurting over their actions.

  I tossed my phone back into my purse and grabbed my glass of wine. There were boxes in the living room that I could go through. It wasn’t fun, but it would keep me occupied.

  It would keep me from thinking that maybe I was the problem.

  I took a long drink from my glass, then refilled it and moved to sit on the floor in front of the boxes. There were only a few, and even if I only went through one, it would make me feel like I’d accomplished something.

  The top of the box was filled with framed photos. Most of them were my family, my friends. There was a photo of Kenzie and me at our high school graduation, and one of her holding the beautiful cake she’d made for my going away party.

  Congratulations, Sydney and Mark! was piped across the top in teal icing.

  Fucking Mark.

  Fucking Ryker.

  I closed the box again.

  Both of the men I’d been with had just…lied to me. My whole relationship with Mark was based on a lie, and my time with Ryker was the same.

  He’d sent me flowers and then tried to take another girl home when I had to work through our date.

  I thought about throwing my wine glass against the wall. But cleaning up red wine was a bitch, and I didn’t want to deal with that on top of everything else.

  I finished the glass, staring at the boxes like they were the enemy, not men. When the wine was gone, I got up and trudged down the hall.

  I fell into bed, pulling a pillow to my chest to muffle the sound of my sobs.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ryker

  I went home alone.

  I mean, as much as she had wanted to, Emily was in no shape to go home with anyone. And neither was I.

  Sydney had jumped the gun, but who could blame her? I didn’t know what Kenzie had told her about me, and I’m sure it looked like I was trying to get Emily to go home with me.

  I had to explain it to her, but I needed to wait a little while first. Give her time to cool down.

  Women, in my experience, listened better when they weren’t furious.

  It was hard to sleep, though. I kept thinking of the look in Sydney’s eyes as she’d turned away from me.

  After tossing and turning for hours, dozing when I could, I gave up.

  At least the gym I went to was open twenty-four hours. Working out at four in the morning wasn’t the worst decision I’d ever made.

  I packed a bag and headed to the gym. I was the only one there—no surprise—so I didn’t bother with headphones, I just turned on some angry music and letting it play in the empty gym.

  It felt good to burn restless energy. It felt good to listen to hard music and focus on lifting. I tried to concentrate on what I was doing, on keeping the right form and posture and not letting myself do anything stupid.

  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering.

  I kept thinking about Sydney. How horrified she’d looked, and how badly I wanted her. How much I wanted to apologize and explain everything.

  But would she even listen?

  I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Her ex had lied and cheated. If she wanted to write me off because of what happened with Emily, well. it would suck, but I wouldn’t blame her.

  But I wanted her to hear me out. So she’d know what had really happened and how I felt.

  Because I definitely felt something. I felt a lot of things when it came to her. I hadn’t felt this much for a woman since Bay, and Bay had torn my fucking heart out.

  I’d fucked up, that was true. She’d wanted one thing for me, and I’d taken my life in a different direction. And by the time I’d realized that I really wanted her and came back, well, she was gone.

  I still missed her.

  I missed her every single day.

  But since I’d met Sydney, it hadn’t been the same kind of missing her. It was nostalgic, but not sad. The sense of regret wasn’t as strong.

  I kept thinking about what Sydney had said when we had dinner at her place. Everything works out in the end. Was that true about me and Bay? About me and Sydney? Because this didn’t feel like everything working out.

  It felt like a problem I needed to fix.

  I’d lost one girl by making a stupid decision too late. I didn’t want to let it happen again. Not with Sydney.

  This wasn’t about being her first anymore.

  This was way, way bigger than that.

  I put down the weights I had in my hands and moved to pick up my phone from the floor. It wasn’t quite five yet, but this couldn’t wait.

  I sent her a text.

  Sydney, can we talk? I know how last night looked, but that’s not what was happening. Please just hear me out. That’s all. Text back if you want to meet up.

  I had to fix this before I lost another good girl forever, before Sydney gave up on me like Bay had.

  I couldn’t let myself lose her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sydney

  Work dragged on too long. But not because of any sense of anticipation; it dragged on because I didn’t want to fucking be there.

  I wanted to be wallowing. Rolled up in my blankets in bed, drinking wine, and listening to sad music until I cried myself to sleep.

  I wanted to be in a bar, finding a stranger who would take me home and fuck me until I forgot who Ryker Hart was.

  The clock finally hit five. I grabbed my bag, booking it out the door. I didn’t stop to chat or say goodbye to anybody, just left.

  I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries or gossip. I wasn’t in the mood for Jay being a petulant child over my lack of interest in him.

  And I still hadn’t replied to Ryker’s text. What could he possibly have to say that would mean anything to me?

&
nbsp; I stopped on my way home and picked up dinner. I didn’t have it in me to cook, and a cheeseburger and fries sounded like the right kind of comfort food. I still had wine at home and probably a few beers in the back of the fridge.

  Nobody could stop me. I could go to work with a legendary hangover tomorrow. Nothing wrong with that.

  There was so much wrong with that.

  I wasn’t that person. I didn’t get drunk when I was hurting. I didn’t shut myself off from the world and ignore my problems.

  At least, I hadn’t been that person, once. Everything that had happened with Mark had changed me, and Ryker was just making it worse.

  A lonely, alcoholic, miserable virgin. That was the direction my life was going.

  I drove home. The commute was so familiar now that it barely registered until I was on my street, where I almost drove past my own condo.

  Because there was a car in the driveway—Ryker’s car.

  Dammit.

  I sighed heavily and turned into my driveway. Ryker was sitting in his driver’s seat, watching me.

  I could already see the enormous bouquet of flowers in the passenger seat.

  I hated the way it made my heart flutter.

  For a moment, I sat in my car, just breathing. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to do this. But he was here. And there was something small, something deep down inside me, that wanted to hear what he had to say.

  It’s just gonna be a bunch of lies. He’s made up some bullshit story to cover for himself because he wants to be your first.

  I sighed.

  Even if that’s all it was—more lies, more excuses—I should at least let him say whatever he felt like he needed to say.

  I got out of my car.

  He opened his door. “Sydney—”

  “No. Wait.” I held my hand up. “Inside. I’m not doing this in the driveway.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, ducking back into his car. He grabbed the flowers and a bag.

  He’d brought dinner.

  My heart fluttered against my will.

  No, I was not going to give in this easily.

  I unlocked my front door and held it open. Ryker came in and set the bouquet of flowers on the dining table next to the other. It was a beautiful arrangement, done in pale pinks and purples and white.

  He was really trying to apologize, and it was starting to work.

  “Sydney.” He turned to me but didn’t move to touch me. He held his hands out at his sides, plaintive. “I’m sorry.”

  “Okay.” I tossed my purse on the table and stepped out of my heels.

  “Please, just hear me out?”

  I sighed and looked back at him. “All right. Fine.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “I know that girl. Emily. She’s a regular at the shop. Yes, I’ve hooked up with her before, but not recently.” He sighed, lifting one hand to rub his forehead. “She came over to our table. Me and the guys were talking about the shop expanding, and she just kinda latched on to me.”

  Right. Of course. He hadn’t invited anything like that at all. I crossed my arms, looking at him.

  He looked at me, frowning. “She was wasted, Sydney. I wasn’t going to take her home. Or let anybody else take her home. I know I have a reputation that I’m sure Kenzie’s told you all about, but I’m not total garbage.”

  I bit my lower lip. “So, what happened, then? After I left?”

  “I put her in a chair, told Bradley and Benny to keep an eye on her. I went after you, but you were already gone.” He shrugged. “I paid for my shit, left money for Emily to get a cab, and went home.”

  “If I were to ask Bradley and Benny, would they tell me the same thing?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. ’Cause it’s the truth. Anybody in the bar could tell you that I didn’t take Emily home. In fact, here.” He pulled his phone out, tapping the screen a few times, then handed it to me.

  It was a text from Benny, dated from the night before.

  Hey, man, hope you can catch up to Sydney. We got Emily in a cab home. Text if you need anything.

  He couldn’t have staged that.

  It had to be real.

  And that meant he was telling the truth. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

  But I wasn’t quite ready to let him in.

  I wanted to know that he wanted me, not just to clear his own name.

  I handed his phone back. “Okay. So you didn’t fuck her.”

  I shrugged and moved past him, taking my burger and fries to the kitchen.

  He nodded, looking at the bag he’d brought with him. It smelled like Mexican food, and I wanted it, but he had to work for it. “I was trying to do the right thing. Make sure she got home safe.”

  And he had, and I’d reward him for it later. But not yet. I grabbed a plate, then glanced at him, sighed heavily, and grabbed another.

  “Sydney. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you like Mark did. You told me he fucked around and hurt you, and I don’t want to put you through that again. I know we’re not dating, but as long as we’re interested in each other, I won’t mess with anybody else.”

  Interesting.

  I brought the plates and a small heap of silverware to the table, putting them down. “You won’t?”

  “No. I’ll stick around until you find somebody you’d rather settle down with, or…” He trailed off and shrugged.

  What wasn’t he saying?

  I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to open up anything I wasn’t ready to deal with tonight.

  I handed him a plate. “Sit down. Eat.”

  He took it and lowered himself into one of the chairs.

  “What did you get me?” I asked.

  “Um… I wasn’t sure what you liked, so…” He pulled out one container, setting it aside for himself, and pushed the bag toward me. “Chicken burrito, shrimp chimichanga, and an order of nachos. Whatever you don’t want, I’ll take home.”

  I picked through the bag and settled on the chimichanga. I opened it. It was still crispy.

  Ryker was watching me. I glanced up at him, then back down at my food.

  “Sydney?” he asked.

  “Yeah?”

  He seemed hesitant.

  I looked up, raising my eyebrows.

  “Yeah?” I repeated.

  “Look. If you want me to leave, I will. I guess I just want to know where we are. What you want.”

  God. The way he said it made me sigh. The stupid butterflies were in my stomach again. I leaned back in my chair.

  “I just want to have a nice evening and go from there,” I said. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “All right. I’m good with that.”

  We let silence settle as we ate. The food was good, but it was missing something. I rose and went to the kitchen, returning with two bottles of beer. I put one in front of Ryker, then sat back down with the other, opening it and taking a sip.

  “Thanks.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He looked at me for a moment. A faint smile appeared on his lips. “You know, it’s cute.”

  I raised one eyebrow at him. “What’s cute?”

  “How you’re pretending to still be mad at me.”

  Dammit. “Who says I’m pretending?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I can tell. It’s fine. Keep going. I like it.”

  I cracked. Just for a second, I smiled.

  He knew he had me and he chuckled, shaking his head.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes, continuing to eat.

  When we finished dinner, Ryker rose before I could, grabbing the plates. To my surprise, he washed the dishes while I sat and finished my beer.

  Maybe I could let him have a little something.

  As he passed me to come back to the table, I kicked one leg up. He stopped and looked at me.

  “Hey,” I said. “We’re good. Okay? We’re good.”

  “Are we?” He put one hand under my ankle, holding my leg in place.

  I watched as he ben
t at the waist and kissed the inside of my ankle.

  Lust rushed through my body, hot and fast, and I pulled my foot out of his hand. I placed it on the ground and stood up.

  Ryker opened his arms and I stepped into them. He kissed me hard, his hands already moving down to grip my ass.

  I didn’t care. I wanted him. I wanted this, and I wanted it now.

  I was ready to lose it, and it was going to be to Ryker.

  He pulled back from the kiss. “Bed? We can do what we did the other night.”

  I shook my head. “No. I want more.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  We hurried down the hall to my room. I unbuttoned my blouse as we went, but before I could take it off, Ryker pulled me into another kiss. His hands slid under the shirt, resting on my waist. His thumbs moved over my bare skin.

  It felt like he was leaving trails of fire everywhere he touched.

  I lifted myself up on my toes, kissing him harder. He raised his hands, sliding my shirt down my shoulders and letting it drop.

  I unzipped my skirt and, with nothing holding it shut, it dropped as well. I stepped out of it, kicking it into a corner somewhere. I’d find my clothes tomorrow. All that mattered now was him.

  He was entirely too dressed.

  I leaned back, tugging Ryker’s shirt up. He raised his arms, shrugging out of the fitted t-shirt and tossing it over his shoulder.

  When I glanced down, I could see how hard he already was.

  I shivered.

  Ryker ran one hand up my side. “Bed?” He nodded behind me.

  I nodded and moved to lie down, watching him. He smiled at me, unzipping his jeans and sliding them down.

  God. He was huge.

  Not that I really had a frame of reference, but still.

  I bit my lower lip, shifting to make room for Ryker on the bed. He joined me, stretching out over the top of me. His hips fit against mine perfectly.

  He gave a slow thrust. Even though we both still had underwear on, it felt incredible.

  My jaw dropped and I closed my eyes.

  “You want my fingers again?” His voice was in my ear, breath hot on my neck. He leaned close, kissing just under my ear.

  If I’d been standing, I would have collapsed. I already felt like Jell-O under him, just from what little he’d already done.