The Popularity Project

Chapter Eight - Playboy Playbook

We finished and started to leave the diner shortly after Ryder's proposal. He stands and leaves disappears for a few minutes, I start to assume he is off with Gabriella, until she approaches me.

"You've caught yourself quite the guy," she remarks and sits down across from me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I crease my eyebrows.

"Well, hun, while you were sitting here all by your lonesome, stuffing those pancakes in your mouth pathetically, he was off screwing me," she gives me a sickly sweet smile. "And he made me feel so-"

"I've heard enough," I stand from the booth and look around for him.

"And the way he moaned my name, man he is amazing, but you already know that, right?" Gabriella stands, towering over me. Her face is smug. "I would never be so pathetic to marry a man like him, not when he is off having sex with someone in the bathroom only moments before proposing to his knocked up whore."

"That's enough," Ryder snaps at Gabriella and takes my hand in his. I flinch away from him, thoughts of Damien surface. I am getting worked up over nothing. I just nod my head and excuse myself from the company, not trying to listen as she cusses me out.

A few minutes later, he joins me by his car. Ryder regards me for a second before unlocking his car and climbing in. I follow suit, not bothering to look at him.

"Thanks for the breakfast, it was delightful," I say as cheery as physically possible.

"I didn't intend-"

"I know you didn't plan on Gabriella cussing me out, but honestly," I pause and look at him with an honestly confused expression. "What did you expect to happen?"

"What do you mean?" He raises his eyebrows and drives away from the godforsaken diner.

"You.. You left me at the table to go have sex with that hostess. You invited me out to breakfast, and then you left me alone to eat so you could screw her," I laugh humorlessly. "Maybe this is charming to the girls around here because they expect you to pull shit like this, but this isn't acceptable to me. You can't treat me like shit, because I know who you are Ryder. I know you're more than some goddamn playboy without any regard for feelings."

"You don't know anything," he grunts.

"Maybe I don't, perhaps you are simply a self serving asshole," I shake my head.

"I am," he agrees.

"You do realize that being a self serving asshole isn't a compliment, right?" I scoff.

"Don't insult my intelligence," he retorts. "I know exactly what you're saying, and I'm accepting it because you're the first girl ever to call me like I am."

"What do you.."

"I have done that on dates before, and the girls are polite about it, like, I should expect the playboy to do nothing less than have sex with the waitress. I shouldn't expect him to abstain from sex for the time it takes to finish a meal." Ryder shakes his head and the speedometer reaches a potentially dangerous number.

"Ryder, slow down, okay just stop the car," I say gently and he pulls over. We are in the middle of a forest woodsy area. The trees are lush and green, and the ground is a mixture of black pavement and mossy green grass.

We sit in silence. I am unsure of what to say, and he seems to be mulling over something. I take the time to silently admire his features. Dark hair, dark blue eyes, thick dark eyebrows, pink lips, a great jawline.. I can see why all the girls love him. If worth was only based on physical appearances, Ryder Daniels would be a diamond surrounded by a shit load of coal.

"Those girls only went out with me for sex or credit. I wasn't the player, they were all playing me," he laughs lightly. "The irony is humorous. The girls would get bitchy and pissed when I moved on, but that's what they wanted. They wanted to be one of the girls I screwed, not one that I actually have a damn about, and that's exactly what I gave them."

I nod my head, his words making sense in my brain. I don't speak, he isn't looking for my input, just for my support. So, I stay quiet and nod my head politely while he continues.

"Charlotte LaForce," he nods his head and sighs deeply. "She was the only girl who ever made me feel something. I fell for her, somehow I loved her. I'm not sure, to this day, I'm not sure how the hell she accomplished that."

"Was she your girlfriend?" I look forward at the seemingly endless road ahead.

"Yes, she was.. until she cheated on me with some worthless prick," he shakes his head and starts the car. We are moving seconds later, not nearly as fast, but I'm still not convinced he is okay.

"Her loss," I whisper, unsure if he heard me and unsure if I wanted him to or not.