“Piper, three years together is a long time. You just don’t throw a relationship away when things get rough. You work through it.” Riley slopped salsa over the cheese and chips.
“Just because my longest relationship only lasted two months doesn’t mean I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, but you don’t.” Riley huffed, a tightness squeezing her jaw.
“But I understand you.” Piper lifted the remote, muting Mark. “I know you’ve been feeling down lately. I know you’re scared, and I would be too if I were you, but you’re not alone. You’ve got me and Casey. We’re your family. I know we’re dysfunctional as fuck, but we love you, ’kay? You don’t need that selfish idiot.”
Piper, you don’t know the half of it…
“No matter how he spins it—”
“Josh proposed.” Her words hung in the air, freezing the room into silence.
Five
Her spoon clanked loudly on the counter. Fuck. I didn’t want to tell her like that.
“What?!” Piper snapped her gum and dropped the remote. “Did you say yes?”
Riley opened her mouth, about to say something, but settled into a silent pout. She scattered more cheese and then stopped, her eyes fixed on the plate. “I was going to suggest we take a break. With everything going on, I thought we could both use some space, focus on school and stuff without the constant obligation of checking in with each other every day. Then after graduation, we could see if we wanted the same things—see if we wanted to stay together.” She spun the plate around, her finger trailing along its edge. “On Thursday, we were alone—finally—and I think he sensed something was up. He took me out for a surprise meal. Fucking great, right? I’d have to do it in a public place. Not ideal, but I was running out of chances since he’d be playing hockey again the next day…but before I could say anything, he asked me. I couldn’t believe it! He got down on one knee with two packages of Reese’s—”
“That’s lame.”
“He had a toy ring underneath the candy. He said he loved me so much he couldn’t wait any longer to make things official. He doesn’t want to spend another winter without me and…” Her eyes drifted across the wall, settling on her Lairds and Liars calendar.
“And what?”
“He said…” As Riley shifted her weight from foot to foot, the floorboards creaked underneath her socks. “He said when he signs with the Wild this spring, he’ll take care of everything…bills and all that…”
“He what?” Piper squinted at the mail on top of Riley’s suitcase. “Oh, so now he’s bribing you? Fucker—”
“He’s not bribing me. It’s what committed couples do, Pip. They support each other emotionally, physically—financially. He says he doesn’t want me to worry—”
“Worry? Jeez, it’s a bit too late for that. My God! Be still my cold heart. Josh is such a romantic.” Piper curled her lip. “The manipulative dick, I’d like to cut—”
“His balls off—yeah, you’ve told me a million times.”
The veins in Piper’s neck bulged. “He’s totally playing with your emotions!”
Riley opened the toaster oven and slid the nachos inside. “No, if anything, he’s being…practical. He knows we’ve grown apart because of the distance, and he knows how desperate I—” Her words stopped abruptly as tears began to sting her eyes.
“Aww, don’t sweetie.” Hopping to her feet, Piper swerved around the ladder and wrapped herself around her best friend. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. It’s just…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Josh complicating matters isn’t helping.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Wiping her nose, Riley withdrew from the hug and retreated to the fridge. Leaning down, her tired, watery eyes searched its bare interior. “My worst nightmare’s coming true and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, but Josh’s money might make a difference.”
“Why don’t you ask Erika instead?”
Riley selected a crusty bottle of ranch dressing and closed the door. “I know we joke about her being loaded, but it’s Scott’s money, not hers—and besides, they’re saving for their wedding.” She opened the lid and sniffed the contents.
“Yeah, which will cost the same as two years’ tuition and be splashed over Page Six—the hockey star and his ballerina princess.”
“She hasn’t danced for years, Pip. You wear more tutus than she does.”
“I’m just saying you could ask. She’s got money to burn.”
Riley left the bottle on the counter. “No way. Talk about putting her in a really awkward position. I can’t do that to her. And Josh offered—”
“Yeah, putting YOU in a really awkward position. Funny how he never made that kind of financial offer before—”
“He didn’t have money before!” Riley pulled open the toaster oven, peering at the bubbling pool of cheese. “He won’t actually get it until he signs with the Wild after graduation.”
“He was drafted three years ago, right?” Piper hovered, chasing breaths as her voice grew louder. “He’s known about this signing bonus he’ll be getting for THREE YEARS!”
“Piper, enough! You’ll have an asthma attack.” Riley scowled over her shoulder, slamming the toaster oven shut. “Go sit down, you’re in the way—”
“Why didn’t he offer to help eighteen months ago, huh? When everything kicked off? He’s such a fucking dick! He watched you cry over FaceTime, applying for loans, struggling to keep up with school…he only offered when he realized he might lose you.”
Riley threw her a dirty look. “No, he offered because he loves me.”
“That’s not love, that’s manipulation—and when was the last time you said you love him and meant it?”
“I do love him.”
Piper huffed loudly. “He’s holding your heart hostage at the worst possible time and you’re falling for it!” Her eyes swept Riley’s fingers for the toy ring, but the only jewelry was the small moonstone ring of her mom’s that always graced her right hand. “You didn’t say yes, did you?!”
THWUMP, THWUMP, THWUMP!
Riley jumped, her wide eyes glaring at the wall. “Great, my neighbor. She’ll call the super—fucking awesome.” She scowled. “Just…stop yelling! And stop calling Josh a dick. I hate it. I wish you guys would get along—”
“Rye, tell me.” Piper lowered her voice. “Did you say yes?”
She fiddled with her glass. “I’m thinking it over.”
“Riley, no, there’s got to be another way. We’ll figure it out…together.” Piper rubbed her friend’s arm. “If you say yes, you’ll move to Minnesota and end up hitched to a guy you don’t love, raising his brats, and all your dreams of California and a TV career will be gone. Promise me you’ll follow your dream, not some boyfriend? Please don’t throw away your happiness.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to do what’s best—for everyone.” Riley handed her the tequila and lemonade bottles. “And that includes you. Now, let’s drink, eat nachos, and rewrite your dating profile, okay?”
Biting her tongue, Piper tilted the bottles and poured and poured, filing Riley’s glass until lemonade and tequila tickled its rim.
Six
Impatient taxis and drunken shouts rose from the street as Riley watched Piper turn the corner, disappearing into the darkness. Her best friend’s room in NYU’s Alumni Hall was the next street over, and she’d be safely home within minutes. With Piper gone, Riley could finally exhale.
She picked up her iPad (a hand-me-down from Erika), and flopped on the loveseat, propping up her phone on the cushions so she wouldn’t miss Piper’s ‘I’m home’ text. With a finger flick, she popped the button on her jeans. Grrrrrrrowlllllll! Her stomach wasn’t happy—too much cheese or too much angst? The argument with Piper had left her unsettled during Lairds and Liars, dizzy with tequila-soaked questions about the past week, the future, and what made her happy. Josh’s mind might be cluttered with dreams of hockey pucks and trophies, and he’s more hyped
about me being a WAG than a TV director in California, but that doesn’t make him a bad person…does it? He loves me. Her thoughts tangled into a dull headache. Piper meant well, but Riley’s relationship with Josh was complicated. More was at stake than a broken heart.
She fanned her flushed face and tapped her tablet, unleashing the high-pitched FaceTime ring. It cut out, replaced by thumping bass and “YEAH…YEAH…”—Usher’s assured vocals blasting through the speaker. Josh’s scruffy moustache and beard, grown for good luck during the tournament, appeared first and then the picture swept up his face, capturing his slightly crooked nose and hazel eyes, muddy and half-lidded.
“Hey, baby gurrrrl!” His voice fought with what sounded like the entire population of Grand Forks, North Dakota, crammed into whatever drinking establishment he was in. His phone lurched, sailing over a table crammed with empty glasses and surrounded by boisterous males downing inky-colored shots. The guys were familiar: Josh’s North Dakota Fighting Hawks teammates, all oozing ego and entitlement—not to mention booze—through their sweaty pores. “Guys, GUYS!” Josh demanded off camera. “Say hello to the future Mrs. King!”
Red faces flooded the screen, their slurring voices competing with each other.
“Kingy shoots, he scores!”
“Fuck the trophy, man—she’s the real prize!”
Josh started his own chant. “She said yes! SHE SAID YES!”
“Hey! Hi guys.” Riley waved politely, blushing.
The drunken chorus grew louder, hammering her phone. “WE’RE NUMBER ONE! NUMBER ONE, BABY! NUMBERRRR ONNNNNE!” The chants sloppily swerved into a shouty out-of-tune rendition of the college’s fight song, the lyrics an incoherent mess.
“JOSH!” Riley raised her voice, waging a losing battle for her fiancé’s attention. “Sorry I missed your calls.” She winced as the screen bobbed from face to face. “I was with Pip—”
“Argh, Hyper Piper!” Josh sneered. “Did you tell her the good news?” His lips curled into a smile. “My baby said YES!”
Riley’s phone lit up on the loveseat—Piper texting she was home. “Um…no. Wasn’t a good time.”
“Is it ever with her? Anyway…Rye, my goal! It was EP-IC! Their defenceman was clinging to me, pulling me backward, but I dragged him and the puck over the blue line, across the slot, then my wrist shot—”
“MVP! MVP!” Teammates pumping the air with bottles invaded the screen, their deafening chants sending Riley’s fingers scrambling to lower the tablet’s volume. They jumped around, slopping beer on each other without regret or concern. “MVP! MVP!” They tried to hoist Josh up on their shoulders, but he wrestled them off with laughter and a round of aggressive high fives.
“YASSS!” With each smack, the vibrations jarred Josh’s phone, distorting the picture. “I am! I am the FUCKING MVP, right, fiancée?!”
Riley nodded with a tight smile. She was happy for Josh, for all of them. Their season had been a rollercoaster ride of nail-biting wins and devastating losses. Going into the tournament as underdogs, their guts and grit captured the title, and her guy—the science nerd from school who was bullied as a preteen for competing in figure skating—was now a sculpted, six-foot-two hockey god who could outskate all competition and had scored the game-winning goal two games in a row. Celebrated in chants, plied with booze all night, and destined for the NHL in six short months, Josh was proving wrong all those bullies who called him weak, weird, or a waste of space. What had made him a target as a kid was now his gift. He was the MVP—and her fiancé.
Fiancé. Most f-words I have no trouble saying, but this one…?
High fives morphed into ‘I love you, man’ hugs, bro back slaps, and Josh’s phone zooming into some guy’s plaid shirt.
Riley exhaled heavily. Anything she said now wouldn’t be heard. I should let him go…
His red face flew back on screen. “Aww, babe, wish you were here.” He pushed off another teammate invading their conversation. “Make sure you tell your mom about our engagement, okay? Tell her.”
“I will, when I see her.” She grinned. “You should go, have fun. I’m glad I got to see you…”
“Rye?”
“Yeah?”
“Wait.” He covered his phone, only a flicker of light making it through the gap between his fingers. The booming bass and locker room chants faded, replaced by the brief squeal of a hinge. “Woah, c-c-old!” Josh gasped and his phone shook, revealing a flash of dirty Nikes crunching snow underfoot. “It looks like Christmas…see?” His phone tilted, sweeping across the woodland bordering the bar’s property. Snow-kissed evergreen trees stood still, pointing toward a jet-black sky pierced with tiny dots of tinsel, faraway stars twinkling hello. No wind, no voices, just the passing splash of tires through slush on the road and the muted thump thump thump of bass from the bar keeping them company.
Returning to the screen, Josh chuckled, muting another hiccup. “The chill…it’s sobered me up a bit.” He inhaled deeply, blowing out a cloud of breath. “So, fiancée…” A sly smile raised his cheeks. “I couldn’t be happier. It’s what everyone wants—you and me engaged!”
Not Piper. Piper thinks I should dump you—now.
“My parents, Erika, your mom—yeah, think about how happy Maggie will be.”
Erika wants another WAG-y partner in crime, and Mom? How will Mom feel?
Josh stared, his eyes dropping to her thin tank top. “Hello…Riley? Are you thinking about our wedding night? I am! Riley?”
She blinked, rejoining the conversation. “Yeah.”
“Aw, babe, you and me in the same city, our own apartment with actual rooms—not like that shitty dump you’re in now. We’ll have a huge bedroom with a king-size bed, an en suite bath, maybe even get a place with a pool so you can swim whenever. I’ll take care of you—of us. I’ve got this.”
“Josh—”
“I know. Maggie raised an independent girl and you hate letting a guy take care of you, but that’s what a husband does.” A laugh burst from his lips. “I’m so gonna let you pick out a massive ring with my signing bonus.”
“You can’t blow your bonus on me, Josh.”
“Can’t I spoil my fiancée? Make sure everyone knows you’re mine? The Wild veterans, man, they’re gonna be so impressed—and envious. I may be a rookie on the ice, but off it—with you—I’m anything but! I’m dying to show you off. You’ll be the hottest girl at the rink.”
You want me to play a role that’s not real—that’s not me. “Those girls will think I’m a freak. I’m not into shopping or babies. I hate manicures. I have more in common with your future teammates than their girlfriends—I actually know what a failed offside challenge is.”
“Erika and Leia don’t think you’re a freak.”
“Leia does,” Riley shot back. Erika’s bestie wasn’t her biggest fan.
“Leia shouldn’t talk. She’s named after a Star Wars character.”
“She hates Star Wars.”
“Yeah, and that’s why she’s a freak. Look, when we move to Minnesota, you’ll meet girls nicer than her and Erika with none of that snotty New York ’tude. Sometimes I think that city’s a bad influence…”
Riley pulled the elastic from her hair, letting it fall long and wavy to her shoulders.
“Babe,” Josh groaned, his words slowing down. “Your hair…so soft, so fucking sexy. I wish I could get lost in it, spread out on the pillow beneath me…”
She gave him a wistful smile.
“I’d kiss your neck, suck your boobs…while your hands—” He gasped. “Your hands would play with my hard cock.” He licked his lips. “Baby, remember how good it feels? How wet it makes you? I can’t have you forgetting your MVP, your most valuable…” Josh stared half-lidded into his phone.
Player…
“Penis.” Josh breathed heavily. “MVP, get it?”
Typical guy. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Ahh, babe.” Josh let out a shuddering breath, his eyes needy. “I’m dying
here. You should’ve stayed another night. I should’ve made you stay.” He fell into a whisper. “Rye, if I went into my truck, would you…”
She slouched into the cushions. “Josh—”
“Babe, c’mon.” He shivered. “I won’t take long.”
You never do. She exhaled, not budging. “It’s getting late…”
“Oh…right.” He nodded, shoulders slumping. “Rye, I love you.”
“I…” Riley’s stomach pinched. “I love you, too.” The mumbled words slipped through her tight lips without being fully formed, a reflex, a force of habit—a lie, now impossible to pull back. “Night.”
“Night, babe.” He waved and the screen went black. 1:06 A.M. popped up in his place, but sleep would have to wait.
Riley stepped over to the sink, squeezed a green blob of dish detergent into the small basin, and turned on the faucet. The FaceTime conversation replaying in her head, she mindlessly swirled a dish cloth through the water, encouraging bubbles to grow and overtake the dirty stack of plates and utensils. Waiting for the soapy cloud to consume her hands, tears began to sting her eyes. She looked up past the NYU pool schedule tacked to the wall to the Lairds and Liars calendar hanging above the faucet and the appointment circled in blue marker on Monday’s square—11:15 A.M., Brooklyn Health Center.
Seven
Ben jolted awake, his eyes assaulted with a flash of red—a high ceiling coated with an obnoxious slick of scarlet paint. The scent of coffee teased, and childlike voices squealed from afar, chased by a tinny laugh track. Can’t be real kids. TV…cartoons? He rolled to his right and the edge of the lumpy sofa, the coarse but colorful knitted blanket on his bare chest falling toward the floor. Grabbing hold and covering himself, his fingers poked through the blanket’s holes, his blurry eyes focusing, sliding along a black wall to meet two round, tanned—butt cheeks?! What the FUCK? Shifting up on his elbows, his bare heels digging into the sofa, Ben backed into the armrest, creating as much distance as he could between himself and Mr. Rock-Hard Buns crouched in a low squat.
Until The Last Star Fades Page 4
