Riled Up

by Robin Leaf

  He laughed. “Me, either. I don’t suppose you want to try the barstools again?”

  She squinted her eyes. “That’d be a ‘not on your life.’ The table is good. Plus your view from this window is breathtaking, especially in the evening.”

  “It’s only 5:30. You should see it at sunset.” He smiled. “We can go outside if you want. Javier will tell us when the food gets here.”

  “Does he live here? I never see him around.”

  “Yes, in an apartment above the garage. He and his wife take care of everything. He kind of came with the house. Both of them can do anything, well, except for take care of the pool, and that he’s had to learn how to do, um, quite recently.”

  “Wait. He came with the house?” Vanessa asked, trying not to sound completely appalled.

  “Sort of. He worked for the former owner, whose job quickly transferred him to London, and he was looking for a quick sale. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and I bought the house before it even went on the market. Since Javier and his wife were gone for their son’s wedding in Modesto, and Javi won’t get a cell phone, the owner couldn’t tell them he was moving. I told the guy I would handle Javier, and when I met him, I hired him on the spot. Now, I consider him a good friend.”

  “Wow.” She swallowed, not sure how to respond without looking like a fawning idiot. She changed the subject. “I haven’t seen his wife.”

  “I’ll have to introduce you tomorrow. She is not feeling well this evening. And she doesn’t speak any English. Do you speak Spanish?”

  “Only what I learned in the two years I had to take it in high school. So no, not much. Do you?”

  “Fluently.”

  The wonders of Riley Tate never cease.

  FOURTEEN

  Riley led Vanessa outside and waited for her to sit before he sat on the adjacent chaise.

  “How long did they say it would take for the food to get here?” Vanessa asked.

  “It should be here in a little while. You’re pretty hungry, huh?”

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the breeze from the ocean on her face. She took a deep breath, not to relax, but to smell the sea breeze. “Mmmm. Starving,” she said, not unaware of her sultry tone. Are you really gonna try to flirt, Dr. Taylor? Shame.

  He remained silent for a long time, so she turned her head to face him and opened her eyes. He was looking at her, a strange expression on his face, like something was on the tip of his tongue burning him to get out.

  “What?” she asked lazily.

  “Well, I’m wondering how strict you still are about the whole, ‘no personal question,’ thing. I really want to know something.”

  “I never said you couldn’t ask. Fire away, and I’ll decide if I should answer,” she responded, trying to sound flippant.

  “Okay. Besides your family, what do you miss about Texas?” His eyes searched again.

  She smiled. “The food. Whataburger and real Mexican food most of all. Brisket and barbecue. Blue Bell ice cream. But non-food related? Bluebonnets in the spring, eating what I want without judgmental stares, saying ‘y’all’ without people looking at me like I have a horn growing out of my head,” Riley laughed, “people waving and smiling. I love that everywhere serves Dr Pepper there. But I really miss Jesse. I love him.”

  His gaze hardened. “Jesse? A boyfriend?”

  She smiled. “Love of my life.” She laughed at the surprised expression on his face. “My dog. Big floppy teddy bear. He’s my baby. Why?” She considered asking if it was jealousy she detected, but at the last second, she changed tactics. “What do you miss about it?”

  He looked surprised and then raised one eyebrow. She realized he hadn’t told her where he lived before California. He smiled. “Darby?”

  She nodded. “Darby.”

  “The food, definitely. And I do miss that Texas had seasons, at least more than they do here. I don’t miss the heat in summer, though. And hurricane threats aren’t fun.”

  “Aww, c’mon. You never had a hurricane party?”

  “No. We always took a trip to San Antonio or Dallas when a hurricane came.” Riley smiled.

  “So why did y’all move to Texas then?” Vanessa asked.

  “Mom was from there originally, and she wanted to move closer to my grandmother, so Dad put in for a transfer. It took me a long time to like Texas. It was so different from Illinois and not at all what I expected. Now, you haven’t told me where you grew up.”

  “Pearland.”

  “Ah, so I was right. A little south of Houston. We were practically neighbors.” Riley smiled.

  Javier appeared at the door. “The food is here, Riley.”

  “Thanks, Javi.” He turned to Vanessa. “You wanna eat out here?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She helped carry the bags with the food outside while Riley grabbed plates and silverware. They ate and chatted about their favorite things, from foods to music to movies and books. That led Riley to talk about his mother’s job as a librarian. Vanessa asked questions about his mother, and he told stories about what kind of woman she was, tough and loving, the kind of woman no one wanted to cross but whose approval everyone sought. Vanessa listened, laughed and nodded, and she asked questions to guide Riley’s catharsis. She could tell that he hadn’t talked about her like this to anyone since her death, if ever.

  Without thinking, she reached across the table and grabbed his hand when he seemed to get a little emotional. “Why haven’t you talked about her since she died?”

  The corners of Riley’s mouth turned upward. “No one has asked but you. Darby tried, but I wasn’t ready. I think she interpreted that to mean I never wanted to talk about her. Plus, she felt she needed to try to help me with the Bailee situation.” He paused and looked down at his plate. “That was a lot to handle in a short amount of time.”

  She squeezed his hand and he slowly looked up at her. “I think your mom would agree with me. That Bailee was one class-A bi…” She blushed. “Well, I doubt your mother would use that word. I’ll go with harlot.”

  Riley smiled fully, just about knocking the breath out of Vanessa. “That’s exactly the word she would have used to describe her. Mom never met her. But I’m fairly certain she would have hated her.”

  “Good for your mom.” Their eyes locked for a long moment, and Vanessa’s insides grew warm. She began to feel a little nervous, so she blinked and looked down. “We should probably get this cleaned up and go pick out a movie before it gets too late. And I really ought to ice my ankle. But first, I really need to call my dad.”

  “What happened to your mom?” Riley asked before she could stand. “You never mention her.”

  “Died in childbirth. My stepmother married my dad when I was eighteen months old, and she was the only mother I knew. She had been married before, so she brought Seth, my step brother, with her. A few years ago, she died. It was ruled a car accident.” Vanessa stood and began to gather their dishes. Riley grabbed her arm, set down the plates she had in her hand, and turned her toward him.

  “Ruled? Either it was or it wasn’t.”

  “She drove into a concrete column under an overpass. She just got off the phone with me, and based on our conversation, I’m sure she did it on purpose.” Vanessa noticed Riley wince when she told him that. “My mom was bipolar and refused to take meds. Before we knew she was sick, when I was thirteen, my dad divorced her. He didn’t like it when he found out that she had consulted a plastic surgeon to perform a breast reduction on me because my development was ruining my dance career, a career I didn’t even want. She was institutionalized when I was fifteen and got better, so they released her. She was okay for a while, but she went downhill when I left for college because she stopped taking her meds. She died at the beginning of my junior year, and I took the year off.” Riley looked as though he didn’t know what to do or say. She smiled. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m not gonna get upset. I�
�ve made my peace with it, with a lot of help. It’s one of the perks of being a psychology student. Free therapy.”

  She resumed clearing the table and left Riley outside. She hobbled over to the sink and set the dishes in it, realizing her hands were shaking, not from the memories of her mother; she really had come to terms with everything. She shook because she had just revealed something incredibly personal to Riley, and there was no turning back.

  She took her antibiotic quickly before Riley joined her in the kitchen. While she rinsed and placed dishes in the dishwasher, he stored the leftover food in the refrigerator. She turned and almost ran into Riley. He touched her chin and gently lifted it to meet his eyes.

  “You broke your rule.” He stared deep into her eyes. “Thank you.”

  He’s going to kiss you, Nessa. C’mon. Just do it.

  No. It would be a pity kiss. I don’t want that. It’s wrong.

  He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t like me that way. He’s just being nice.

  Again she blinked and turned away.

  “I need to call my Dad before it gets too late there.”

  Riley stepped back. “Okay,” he said and sighed. What was that? Disappointment? No way.

  “You can get the movie ready,” she encouraged. “I wanna watch the one with you and Darby first.”

  He smiled. “I thought you might.”

  ***

  “How’s your dad?” Riley asked from the opening to the loft when Vanessa came down the stairs from her room, cell phone still in her hand.

  “Overprotective as always.” Vanessa stepped down the first step to go to the kitchen to make an ice pack.

  “I already made it.” He held up the bag to show her. “Come on. You need to get off that ankle.” He helped her to the couch where she first met him. “How does it feel?”

  To fall for you? Scary. But I’m pretty sure I could because you sure are making it easy. I just wish you felt the same.

  She blinked. “What, my ankle? Stiff, but better.”

  “Good.” He waited until she settled herself on the couch, and gently grabbed her leg and propped it on a pillow on the coffee table, setting her cell next to the pillow. He gently set the ice pack on her ankle. Then he seated himself next to her, close, but not touching her. The space between them felt awkward; she wanted to lean into him, but fear of how he would react kept her upright.

  “Before we start, there’s something else I want to know,” he said, remote in his hand.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “If you ask my bra size, I’ll have to hit you.”

  “No,” he laughed. “It’s just… well, the other night at dinner, you said that you started your research with the pageants. What happened next?”

  She turned to face him, careful not to lose the ice pack off her ankle. “I researched child actors next, then went on to the youth competitive dance world, and finally, the overly-competitive little leagues.” She hoped that was enough to satisfy him, but upon his urgent stare and his wait time, she knew he wanted more of an explanation.

  “Tell me about the young actors’ parents.”

  “It wasn’t so much the parents that intrigued me there, it was the kids. Most of them seemed more grown up than they should be. I felt bad for them. The one famous kid I met, who shall remain nameless…”

  “I would expect no less from you, Doctor,” he teased.

  “Yes, well, he just seemed, I don’t know how to put it, hardened, maybe? He mentioned to me that he had a hard time trusting people. He couldn’t tell who his true friends were. He was tired of the fame and just wanted to live a normal life. It really threw me. And the kicker was that he, not his mother, was the one who wanted to be an actor. She didn’t discourage it, but he was the one who pushed for the career. I almost changed my dissertation to revolve around fame at a young age, but I had already invested so much in the research. I didn’t include him in my final paper because his mom was really supportive.”

  “Did you get anything out of the child actors?”

  “Yes. Moms who would do anything, including falling victim to the Charles Pickneys of the world. I got some interesting research. It was a different culture entirely.”

  He looked deep into her eyes, soul searching. “Why don’t you go into practice specializing in child stars?” he asked, throwing her.

  “I don’t know if I could do that,” she answered, not letting her eyes leave his.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why not? You don’t like kids?”

  “It’s not that,” she began, breaking eye contact to look at her hands. He grabbed one hand, and she returned her gaze to his face.

  “I think you’d be great at whatever you choose to do,” he smiled and she looked at him with wonder. No one had ever said anything like that to her. She realized her mouth had fallen open, so she broke the eye contact to stare at their joined hands. He misread her and too suddenly let go of her hand. He stood and removed his denim shirt, leaving only the green t-shirt, and settled back next to her. She marveled at how much deeper green his eyes seemed and got lost in his gaze again. Smiling at her, he broke eye contact to remote the TV on and push play. She turned to face the television, trying very hard to breathe normally. The exchange seemed a tad too intimate, but she realized she liked it. Play it cool, Nessa. Play it cool.

  The movie took about an hour longer than the 117-minute run time. He paused periodically and explained how the movie was filmed out of sequence. He shared silly stories of how Darby kept flubbing her lines and how they had a hard time keeping straight faces during the serious scenes. Plus, he pointed out every inconsistency in the movie. Vanessa’s sides hurt from laughing, and she enjoyed watching Riley’s animated recollections.

  During the credits, Vanessa looked to Riley and studied his face, which was only illuminated by the glow of the TV. When Riley raised his eyebrows, Vanessa said, “Darby told me how you had the love scene cut from the script for her. It was nice of you to do.”

  “I didn’t just do it for her.” He smiled. “I know Darby told you about the promise I made to my mother.”

  Vanessa blushed. “Yes. No on-screen love scenes.”

  Riley smiled and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Not just on screen. She taught me that any physical expression is not to be taken lightly.”

  She turned and faced him, dragging the ice pack to the floor as she pulled her leg off the coffee table. “So last night, when you kissed me…”

  “I didn’t think you remembered that.” His expression became serious. “I’d been wanting to do it since before you were unconscious on my…”

  She pounced forward and interrupted the end of his sentence with her lips pressed against his. He jumped at the surprise of her forwardness. She pulled back.

  “I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.”

  He wrapped one hand around the side of her face, skimming her cheekbone with his thumb. His other slid around her waist to her back, and he smiled shamelessly. “I’m not.” He pulled her toward him slowly and lightly brushed her lips with his, just like the night before. She sighed happily against his lips. The kiss deepened, and his hand at her back urged her closer. She opened her mouth slightly, his tongue grazed her bottom lip lazily. When it slid past her lips and touched hers, it awakened a frenzy of lustful need within her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and threw her leg over to straddle him, pressing herself as close as she could to his chest, not breaking the kiss. She moved her hips forward slightly, feeling his need growing against her. His hand at her back moved down from her waist to her hips to the bottom of her shirt, finding entrance under it. He lightly touched her bare skin just above her shorts, and she felt her breath hitch audibly. It spurred him to trail both of his hands slowly up her sides to her ribs, thumbs grazing the sides of both breasts through her bra. She let out a deep, throaty moan and entwined her hands in his hair just above the back of his neck. His hands languidly moved to her back and nimbly unhooked her bra under
her shirt. The tips of his fingers lazily trailed up and down the flesh he exposed on her back.

  He stilled his hands. Not sure if he was rethinking what they were doing or if he was waiting for her to make the next move, she moved her hands down his chest, grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, and yanked it over his head, diving back to his lips as soon as it cleared their heads. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling his breathing increase during her exploration. The tips of her fingers relished the bumps and grooves contained underneath his smooth, warm skin.

  Noticing his hands returned to caressing her back, she opted to lean back slightly, never breaking away from his mouth, hinting toward permission to access her breasts. He slowly complied, circling around her ribs with careful deliberation, stroking her skin tenderly. Finally, he gently gained access under her bra, cupped both breasts in his hands, idly circling her sensitive, awakened nipples with his thumbs. She moaned against his mouth and arched into his hands, his touch sending electric currents straight through her.

  Is it possible to come just from him touching my nipples? That would be embarrassing, but fuck, that feels good.

  His hands temporarily left her chest to lift her shirt and bra above her breasts. He retreated from the kiss, waited until she opened her eyes, looked at her longingly, piercing green eyes searching hers for something. He smiled sexily and leaned in to kiss her tenderly one more time, but the intimacy of the kiss warmed her more than the others had. He set off south, blazing a trail of kisses down her chin and neck to her exposed breasts. Her hands raked through his hair as he mouthed her right nipple, grazing it against his teeth slightly. She moaned and arched her back against him, slowly and methodically moving her hips against the hardness pressing into the heightened sensitivity between her legs. He moved to her other breast, giving it equal treatment.