“Pigs ’n’ blankets, pretzel bites—mac ’n’ cheese cupcakes?” Ben’s eyes lit up. “How does that work?”
He didn’t stop hijacking appetizers until Riley groaned with satisfaction. She gave high praise to the Buffalo chicken lollipops while Ben broke away from his pretzel obsession to proclaim the BLT lobster rolls his favorite. “I’ve never had lobster before. It’s lush!” A spot of bacon and tomato jam rode the corner of his boyish grin.
He doesn’t try to be adorable—he just is. “You’re got a little…” Riley motioned with her finger, and Ben’s tongue licked his lip with a soft flick.
Lucky lip. Riley’s gaze stuck, her memory rewinding to Ben’s earlier surprise strip in Hunter’s apartment, his tight backside, the impressive bulge stretching the thin layer of cotton… Heat spread up her neck to her cheeks. Ben’s obviously a show-er, not a gr—
His eyebrows creased. “Is it still there? You’re staring.”
“Oh, no, you’re good.” Looking away, she hid behind her hair and scrunched her eyes. SO good! Jeez, stop torturing yourself! She inhaled a deep breath and exhaled into a smile, her glance skating across a silver table topped with flickering candles, half-drunk cocktails, and a guy leaning on the far edge, staring. Josh. A shiver crept up her spine. Act natural. She turned back to Ben. “Let’s head to the roof deck.”
“Sure.” He laid his hand on her lower back, staying close and guiding her through the noisy crush.
“I don’t think we’ve met.”
The loud voice turned Ben’s head.
Riley’s jaw stiffened. Great. She painted on a breezy smile and glanced back. “Josh, hi.”
His wall of a body weaved. “You act fast.” Boozy breath lingered between them.
And he’s drunk. Riley’s eyes flirted with the ceiling. “Josh, it’s not like that.”
“Seriously, mate, we’re friends.” Ben shifted closer to Riley. “Calm down.”
“Great.” Josh snorted. “He’s Australian?”
“Josh, Ben. Ben, Josh.” Riley shook her head. “I’m here to support Erika and Scott, not to rub your nose in a new relationship. Speaking of which…where’s your date?”
“She fucked off already.” Josh swayed and whiskey slopped over the lip of his glass.
“Well, why don’t you mingle? Introduce yourself around. It’s the perfect opportunity to meet more NHLers, right?” Riley looked over her shoulder, hoping he’d take the hint.
“Yeah…mingle. I should meet teammates and…” Josh opened his mouth but forgot his point before the words came. “Get another drink.” He staggered away, spilling a trail of whiskey.
“Nice save there, Riles,” Ben whispered. “I wasn’t relishing another broken nose.”
“Let’s head to the roof. I don’t want Josh bothering us again.”
Arriving on the thirty-second floor’s east terrace, Ben was mesmerized by the sparkly lights of the city. “It would be peaceful up here if there wasn’t a party going on.”
A crisp breeze tousled Riley’s hair.
“You warm enough? Want my jacket?”
Josh would never offer. Too bad I’m not cold… “That would be great!”
Ben swiftly wrapped it around her shoulders, and Riley fought the urge to bury her nose in it for a deep sniff.
They walked along the north side, marveling at the lights from Times Square as they passed clusters of beige couches filled with Erika and Scott’s guests. Searching for seats, they shuffled through the crowd, passing the women’s restroom where raised voices slurred and sparred. Riley snickered at Ben’s wide-eyed headshake, the pair turning a corner where a tiny nook’s gray L-shaped sofa sat vacant.
“Finally!” Ben fell into the cushions. “Work did a number on my back today.”
“You’re such an old man!” Riley dropped down beside him.
The yelling inside the restroom grew louder, closer, two angry female voices competing with Justin Timberlake crooning through the terrace speakers.
“That’s why this couch was free.” Ben chuckled.
“For fuck’s sake!” a woman howled. “I can’t go anywhere, not even to my best friend’s party without one showing up!”
Shit! That’s Leia. Riley bit her lip.
“Well, I didn’t invite her!”
Holy crap—Tyler!
“Ooh, drama! Where’s the Real Housewives people when you need them?” Ben laughed.
“Maybe we should give them privacy?” Riley stood up, grasping Ben’s jacket at her shoulders so it didn’t fall off. “I don’t want to be in the middle of a domestic situation that ends up on Page Six.”
“You fucking liar!”
Okay, that wasn’t Leia. “Ben, let’s go.”
The warring couple careened out of the restroom, closely followed by a disheveled brunette, her dress half-unzipped, teetered on sky-high heels. The intoxicated trio blocked Riley and Ben’s escape.
“Shit!” Ben frowned and looked over his shoulder. “Can we head back the other…?”
Is THAT the girl who came with Josh? Riley’s jaw dropped.
“Leia, calm down!” Spying the slack jaws of Erika, Olivia, Riley, and his riveted teammates, Tyler buttoned his shirt and lowered his voice. “I think we’ve both had too much to drink. Lemme take you home—”
“Oh, listen to husband of the fucking year!” Leia looked angry but broken, mascara streaking down her cheeks. Riley felt pity for her.
“Leia, baby, c’mon. Don’t do this. Let’s get out of here.”
“You bastard! You promised me—never again. You enjoy it, don’t you, you sick fuck—hurting me?” Leia’s wobbled precariously, steadying herself with the help of a table. As she gained her balance, her eyes widened, spotting Riley and Ben. “TWO can play that game.” She pointed a wobbly finger at Ben. “See that guy? I fucked him hard in our bed.”
Forty-Three
“RILEY! WAIT!”
A taxi screamed its disapproval as Ben stumbled into its path.
“Oh, fuck it!” The Brit went for it, darting north across West 39th Street, his sudden sprint unleashing a shrill chorus from the barrage of cars grinding to a halt.
Riley didn’t dare look back. Keep going, get to the subway—oww! Her boots pinched as she rushed toward the colorful pandemonium of Times Square.
“WAIT!” Skirting bumpers and rude hand gestures from passing car windows, Ben swerved around the curb, turning right and crossing Seventh Avenue before a red traffic signal had a chance to end his chase. Legs pumping, he fought with his jacket, stuffing his arms through the sleeves. “RILEY!”
The glow of her phone caught her eye. Mom? No, Erika. In a texting frenzy.
Everyone’s gossiping—I said no drama!
Srsly? Ben and Leia? WTF???
You OK?
Riley shook her head. NO! Turning it off, she began to run, jamming the phone in her purse. She frantically dug around inside, her fingers searching, the subway entrance half a block away. Shit! She flicked past her BBC security pass, Sephora name tag, and wallet. Stupid MetroCard! Where is it?! Boot heels scuffing the pavement, she looked over her shoulder. Ben was stomping to a halt, something on the ground grasped his attention.
He stooped, picking up her MetroCard.
FUCK! She turned away. With twenty dollars loaded on it, she couldn’t afford to leave it behind.
“Riley! We need…” Heavy breaths fought through his words as he ran, meeting her on the corner of Seventh and West 40th. “To talk…please.” His shaky hand grasped her elbow.
“Talk?” She whipped her arm away. “Why? We’ve talked for hours and it turns out I don’t know you at all.”
“Please, let me explain.”
“No, let me explain.” She leaned in, not backing down. “Your little secret with Leia embarrassed me in front of my friends, in front of my ex, and God knows who else! There were TV people there, Ben!”
“I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you on purpose, especially like this.” An ambul
ance stuck on Seventh raised its shrill siren, urging traffic to move and prompting Ben and Riley to cover their ears.
“You slept with Leia!” she shouted and spun around, racing quickly past the crowd crossing West 40th Street, the chaotic flashing billboards around them no match for the electrical storm inside her head.
Ben darted after her. “I didn’t even know her name was Leia until you told me. She said her name was Lisa!”
“Oh, spare me.” She crossed her arms and kept walking, her boots barely touching the Fashion Walk of Fame disks embedded in the sidewalk.
“It’s true! Look, I know you’re pissed—you have every right to be—but give me a minute and I’ll tell you everything.”
“A minute?” She huffed.
“There’s not much to tell. Please?”
She yanked her MetroCard from his hand. “One minute!”
“I met her my first night at the strip club, in the bar watching the guys. She introduced herself as Lisa and said she was checking out venues for a bachelorette.”
“And?” The pedestrian crossing blinked 05, 04, 03—Riley didn’t wait. She ran across West 41st with Ben’s long strides overtaking her. They reached the other side without a second to spare.
“She kept buying me drinks and flirted—a lot. I was flattered. A club full of fit blokes and she was giving me the eye.”
“You weren’t flattered, you were horny.”
He exhaled heavily and looked up. Airbrushed actors and models, all Hollywood smiles and picture-perfect lives, passed judgment from gigantic ads. “Hunter came over and asked if I could stay out for the night. He was bringing some girl home. I had told Lisa—Leia—I was sleeping on his couch. That’s when she offered.”
“Sex…” Riley grimaced, weaving through the non-stop onslaught of people.
“Not upfront—no. She just said I could stay at her place for the night.”
She shook her head. “She wanted to fuck you. You wanted to fuck her.”
His face fell as he tried to catch her eye. “I needed a place to kip! And Leia never mentioned hockey or you. She told me she was a student, working on her master’s at some fashion school.”
“The Fashion Institute of Technology.” A bus wheezed by with a Lairds and Liars season three advertisement stretched along its side, but everything beyond Ben was just a noisy blur.
“I swear, I didn’t know she was married.”
Yeah, right. Riley stared ahead, the dazzling billboards advertising everything the heart desires—cars, clothing, jewelry—but nothing she craved most: honesty, loyalty…love. “So that huge rock on her left hand didn’t mean anything, huh?”
“No ring—her fingers were bare. I noticed at the bar.”
“So, you were interested. Don’t pretend you weren’t.”
“Riley, what hot-blooded single guy chatting to an attractive woman doesn’t check for a ring? I checked your hand the minute I met you. And don’t deny it—women do it, too.”
Damn. Yeah, he’s got me there. “Well, you would’ve seen wedding photos in her apartment. She has tons.”
“I saw paint cans, a ladder, furniture covered with drop sheets.” He scratched his head. “And to be honest, after five minutes, I wasn’t exactly hunting around for evidence she was married…”
“Don’t paint me a picture.” Riley stopped abruptly, the dancing lights above the door to the West 42nd subway entrance inviting her in. Your minute’s up.
“It was a mistake.” He swallowed heavily. “I left in the morning. We didn’t exchange numbers.”
“No, just bodily fluids.” She crossed her arms again and swayed back and forth, as agitated as she was chilly.
Ben dipped his head. “Two weeks later, she’s at the club, you’re at the club—I was fucking gobsmacked. Riley, I really liked you!”
And I liked you! You were lovely and respectful, dancing with me, and then… “You were a dick at the bar.”
“I figured Leia told you about us sleeping together…but when it never came up, it was like…I dunno, a second chance.”
“What? A second chance to fuck me? Yeah, ’cause that’s what you do.” Her palm tightened around her MetroCard. “You’re just a fuckboy. You’re all attentive and sweet until you get what you want.”
“I know you think I’m a dog, but I’ve only slept with two women here, that’s it, both one-night stands, and neither meant anything.” He moved closer. “Riley, please, don’t be cross—”
“I can’t believe you slept with her. Of all people…”
“Yeah, she’s not my type. You’d never catch Leia eating a chicken dinosaur.”
Wha—? Oh. Riley’s angry glare softened into a defiant pout.
“You said she wasn’t a close friend, Riley, so I thought, great, lucky escape—it’ll never come up. I was stupid thinking you would never hear about it. I should’ve mentioned it…”
“Yeah, you should’ve. I guess I was a real disappointment to you, offering a place to stay that night, without benefits…”
“Please don’t think I stayed at yours expecting sex, Riley. You’re…different…”
Here we go again. He thinks I’m some fragile born-again virgin. “I’m not a prude!” Her chest rose and fell as she spit out her response, earning a “You tell ’im, girl!” from a passing clique of women out on the town.
Ben edged closer, ducking his head to keep their conversation private. “I know you’re not.”
Riley lowered her volume. “What you or any of my friends do behind closed doors is none of my business.”
“So then why does any of this matter?”
Chasing breaths, her mind raced. Why? WHY? Because of Christmas socks and candy heart hellos, peanut butter breakfasts and bedhead hair. Because you make me laugh even when my heart is breaking. Because you ask and really listen to my answers. You see me like no one else has…you were my escape. Her mouth gaped. You were my island.
“Riles, why do you care who I was with?”
Because… Riley swallowed, her heart pounding, leaping into her throat. “Because I—” She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him in, capturing Ben’s mouth with her own. Soft and warm, his lips responded immediately, parting with a surprised moan as his hands claimed her waist, fingers digging in, tugging her close.
His lips…oh, wow…I’m not imaging this—this is happening! A pleasurable tingling sensation swept from Riley’s chest through her body. She tilted her head and slipped her tongue in his mouth, kissing him harder, deeper, tasting him as her hands weaved into his hair, so fluffy and thick. She clutched fistfuls, refusing to let go, holding on so her knees—trembling with relief, excitement, lust—didn’t give way and end their impromptu clinch.
A heavy warmth grew in her cotton panties and she pressed her hips against his, prompting Ben’s fingers to grip her sweater. The sounds he’s making…little moans in my mouth, and his kiss—so eager, so…confident, it’s all unraveling me deep inside and it feels…amazing! HE feels amazing. She reluctantly left his mouth, catching her breath.
Ben gasped with a smile and returned to her mouth, his tongue flirting along her lips. Riley let him in, desperate to taste him again, desperate to prove how much she cared. His hands roamed up her back, pressing her into his chest as if he was afraid he would lose her to the neon circus beyond their embrace.
More! Oh, God, I want more! Riley melted into him; all her pretending, all her denial surrendered to her desire and their kiss. The roar of impatient taxis and the glare of glittering billboards faded away as two lost souls found their escape in one another.
Forty-Four
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen nor even touched, but just felt in the heart.”
– Helen Keller
We’re here…finally. A flutter danced in Riley’s chest as the fairy lights, left behind from Ben’s party, doused the darkness and twinkled overhead like a sky full of stars. “Ben…tonight, I’ve thought about this for ages.�
��
He closed her apartment door, his gaze heavy and never wavering. “I have, too.”
She reunited with his mouth, impatient to recapture the heat of his body, of his lips, and make up for lost time. She pressed him against the door and widened her stance, taking his thigh between her legs.
Ben didn’t need any coaxing. Closing his eyes, he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeply, sinking into the coat-covered door as Riley’s hands slipped underneath his jacket and above his belt. One palm took a detour through the gap between his shirt’s buttons. Abs! Firm, mmmm! And hair—happy trail hair! Grown back! Her cheeks flushed, but curiosity overruled shyness as the confident strokes of his tongue and the sounds coming from him urged her fingers to explore. I love that he’s not quiet! It’s so HOT. She chased the trail higher, her persistence sacrificing one button, then another, her fingers skimming the shallow dip of his belly button to drift and ride each subtle ridge of toned muscle. Oh God, he feels SO good.
Heat pulsed through her core, the wait to feel skin against skin dizzying, but Ben wasn’t in a hurry. He moaned his approval against her lips as he took his time, caressing her back through her sweater, memorizing every inch. His hands roamed down to her skirt and lingered over the curve of her ass, his mouth kissing her with reverence, like she was a hard-earned prize. Such care and patience felt new to Riley. Is he for real? Not that I’m complaining! She couldn’t remember a kiss with Josh that didn’t feel like a hurried necessity, a means to an end-ing—always his happy ending. She had forgotten what real intimacy felt like, but as Ben savored their embrace and the sweetness of her mouth, it all came flooding back, how it felt to be appreciated, respected…adored. A smile graced her lips when Ben broke away with a soft groan.
“Riles, is Piper—”
She shook her head, her hand exiting his shirt to join the other, sweeping up the path of buttons to his collar. “Cicely’s on Fridays.” Her fingers swooped, teasing the soft hair at the nape of his neck as she sighed into another long, deep kiss.
Until The Last Star Fades Page 26
