by J. Daniels
RILEY BLINKS AT me as my fingers weave through her damp hair and find the soft skin underneath.
“Hey,” she says, voice quiet and mouth curving up.
“Darlin’.”
Her smile grows. A flush burns across her cheek.
“You got in late. Did you have to stay at the hospital for something?” I ask, dropping my hand back on my chest.
Riley’s mouth pulls down. She turns sideways to see me better. “No. I met up with Mia, Tessa, and Beth for girl’s night,” she answers. “I guess I should’ve called so you knew not to expect me for dinner. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to check in with me, babe. I was just asking.” I give her a smile, easing her worry a little. “And I can handle my own meals occasionally. I am a man.”
Her eyes widen with interest. “Oh yeah? What did you eat? A bear? A lion?”
“Half a box of Raisin Bran.” My brow furrows. “Wait, did you say a lion?”
Riley pulls her lips between her teeth, fighting a grin, and shrugs.
I smile at her. Fuck, she’s so damn cute. I missed this; playful Riley. The girl who’s comfortable with me. Who’s herself with me. “Did you have fun tonight?” I ask.
She nods quickly. “Yep. I’m part of their squad now. They let me in,” she states, sounding and looking really fucking happy about that development.
“Seems like a good squad to be a part of,” I reply.
“It is. It’s the best.”
“I don’t know.” I drop my head to the side, wincing. “The one we got seems pretty fucking good too.”
Riley sits up taller, smiling with pride and looking even happier about me calling this thing we got a squad. “You’re right. Ours is better,” she states. “Everyone else can suck it.”
Laughing, I push up and slide back on the couch. “Do you want to watch something? You can turn that off,” I tell her, tipping my chin at the TV.
“Nope. I want to play you.”
My brows raise. I look from the paused game to her face. “Oh yeah?” I ask. “You sure about that, little girl? I’m pretty fucking good.”
Riley rolls her eyes, hands over the remote and gets to her feet. “I’m a fast learner, big boy. Don’t you remember how well I shot yesterday?”
“How could I forget?” I answer, swinging my legs off the couch to sit up as she grabs the other remote from the console. I roll my ankle to stretch it out.
It feels good. Even after all the exercising and walking on it I did today.
“You didn’t even aim for the target and you hit it,” I remind her.
“I aimed.”
My face tightens. “Say what?” Riley giggles as she sits down beside me. “That’s even more impressive,” I tell her. “I thought you hitting it was just beginner’s luck.”
She aimed for bullseye and actually hit it? Fuck. She’s not just a good shot. She’s a damn good shot.
Riley shrugs, brushing her shoulder against mine as she smiles big at me. “Told you. Fast learner,” she explains.
“Yeah, well this is Madden, baby. You need to play to get good at this,” I say, holding up my remote. “Want me to run through the controls? Give you a few pointers?”
“I got it.”
“You sure?”
Her eyes narrow. “Stalling? Afraid you’re about to get your ass kicked, Tully?”
“My ass kicked? Do you have any idea how many years I’ve been playing video games? I’m about to school you.”
Riley giggles and leans into me. “We’ll see about that,” she teases, turning toward the TV. She bends her knees and rests her feet on the trunk, curling her black painted toes over the edge.
I look away too and stretch my own legs out, propping my feet up and crossing them at the ankles so my injured one is being supported by the other. As I’m bringing up the menu to restart the game, Riley nudges her knee against my leg.
I smile and nudge her back. “Ready?”
“To win? Yep.”
I slowly turn my head.
Riley’s body is shaking with laughter as she giggles through pinched closed lips, eyes focused on the screen. She’s really enjoying herself. Goofing off with me. Doing what we always do. Nothing is weird or uncomfortable like it was last night. We’re back to this—us.
This is us.
“You know, for someone so fucking pretty, you sure talk a lot of smack,” I share.
Her laughter stops and her mouth relaxes. Riley turns her head to look at me, blinks, and wets her lips. “Are you saying that because you mean it, or is this just part of your strategy?” she questions.
I stare at her, waiting for her to smile or to tell me she’s joking by asking this. She doesn’t do either.
“My strategy?”
“You want me off my game, so you’re going to flirt with me. It’s all just for show.”
“I think I recall saying you were pretty before. Do you remember?”
Riley takes a second, one I’m not sure she really needs, then nods. “I remember.”
“Have I ever said anything to you I didn’t mean?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I haven’t,” I verify, needing her to know this as a fact. “Even if I needed a strategy, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be telling you something like that and having you feel it if it wasn’t true. Everything I’ve ever said to you, I’ve meant, darlin’. The same goes for anything I’m ever going to say. You hear me?”
Riley pulls in a deep breath through her nose after I’m finished speaking, then looks away, exhaling forcefully. “I hear you,” she says, voice rough and profile no longer relaxed. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
I watch her sit up and scoot to the edge of the couch so we’re no longer touching. She looks ready to kick my ass. I figure Riley’s just wanting to stay focused so she actually has a shot at beating me, and thinking about everything I’ve ever said to her is bound to jar that focus, same as us touching, so I don’t question her sudden change in demeanor.
Smiling, I sit forward, drop my feet onto the floor and my elbows onto my knees. I choose two player and start the game.
“You’re going down,” I taunt under my breath.
“Don’t think so,” she says with some sass on her tongue.
“Aw come on, defense! Wake up!” I slam back against the couch cushion and gesture at the TV as Riley springs to her feet. “Oh, that’s nice. Taunting? Where’s the flag?”
Riley giggles as her guy holds the ball out behind him, teasing my players with it, and then takes it into the end zone. “Booyah!” she cries, throwing her arms into air. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeahhhh.” She wiggles her hips, doing her celebratory dance next to the trunk.
I drop my head back and watch her, laughing when she breaks into the running man. “This is fucked up. You’re like some secret gamer, aren’t you?”
Seriously. She’s kicking my ass.
“Nope! I’m just awesome at everything,” she replies, smiling big as she turns to face me. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are shining bright. “Want to watch the replay again?” she asks, wiggling her brows and tucking her hair behind her ear.
“No thanks. I’m not sure my delicate man pride can handle it. I'm already depressed as fuck.”
Riley presses her hand to her stomach, throws her head back, and laughs.
A sound comes from the kitchen, like an alert on a phone. Riley tosses her remote onto the couch and walks around it as I stretch out my legs. I check the time on the DVR. It’s after midnight. We’ll probably turn in soon.
I toss my remote beside hers and rub at my face, yawning. A quiet gasp turns my head.
“What’s up?” I ask, watching Riley put her phone on the counter and start going through her book bag.
“Grades are posted,” she says, voice anxious. “I can finally see what I got on that test.” She grabs something out of the front zipper pouch, then pulls out her laptop and rushes over with it, sitting down beside me. She slip
s on a pair of glasses I’ve never seen her in.
“You wear glasses?” I ask.
Riley looks over at me after opening up her laptop. The glasses are black-rimmed and rectangular, and fuck, they make those big, blue eyes of hers pop even more. “I need them to read if I don’t have my contacts in,” she explains, sounding like she’s apologizing for it, which tells me Riley isn’t a fan of wearing them.
Or, that maybe some piece of shit never told her how pretty she looks wearing them.
I watch her long lashes blink behind the lenses. “You should skip the contacts more often,” I suggest. “Trust me. They look really good on you.”
Riley stares at my mouth as if she can't believe the words I just spoke, then lifts her gaze to my eyes again. She smiles, quick and shy, and ducks her chin to hide her blush, putting her attention back on the screen.
I figure even if I do point out that I saw what my compliment just did to her, she’ll deny it. And right now, I know she’s more concerned about finding out her grade. I am too. I’m curious.
“You thought you did good, right?” I ask.
Riley keeps her focus on the screen as she chews on the side of her thumb, pressing keys with her other hand and swirling her finger over the trackpad. She doesn’t answer me. She’s nervous.
“Hey.” I place my hand on the small of her back and rub my thumb there. I get her eyes. “Remember how sure you were after you took it? You said you nailed it, babe. You wouldn’t have felt that way if you didn’t have this.”
Riley stares at me, thinking back to the words she spoke, then remembering them, she nods, but keeps chewing on her nail and holding onto that worry. She looks back to the screen, and I feel her body draw away from my hand as she pulls in a deep breath and clicks on the trackpad.
“Oh . . . my God,” she whispers.
I drop my feet and sit forward, sliding my hand around to her side as I prepare to comfort her. “Hey . . .”
“Ninety-seven.” Riley's head whips around. She beams at me. “I got a ninety-seven. A fucking ninety-seven! Holy crap! CJ!” She shifts her laptop to the couch, twists her body and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into a crushing hug. “This was a unit test! It’s worth so much of my grade. This is awesome!” Her excited breaths are sharp against my ear, and the quick pounding of her heart thumps beneath her hoodie.
“See? What’d I tell you?” I give her a squeeze, my other arm around her now too. “My girl’s a fucking genius.”
Riley giggles quietly, and for seconds we’re just holding each other, neither one of us easing away or even relaxing the slightest bit. Her arms keep their pressure and mine hold her captive, circling her tiny waist. My face is half buried in her hair. I can smell her shampoo and the soap she uses on her skin. I can feel the blunt curve of her knee against my thigh, and I know if I were to lean back I’d pull her with me, forcing her to straddle my lap.
“You said we would celebrate when I got my grade,” Riley reminds me.
“I did.” I smile when she leans back enough to look at me. My grip slides to her hips. “Anything you want, darlin’. Name it.”
She keeps one hand on my shoulder and brings her other up to stroke her chin. “Mm. Anything I want, huh?”
I chuckle.
She giggles at herself, then grips onto me again, sliding her fingers to the back of my neck and holding there. “You seem sure of yourself. I should say something you have no chance of following through with.”
“Like?”
“Like,” she looks over at the TV, then turns back to me, stating, “Fireworks.”
“Fireworks?”
“Over a football field.”
“Oh, you’re getting specific . . .”
She drops her head into a firm nod. “I want to lay in the middle of the field on a pile of blankets and watch them together while we eat coconut inspired food and listen to music.”
My chest rumbles with laughter.
Jesus. Riley was getting very specific. It’s cute. I want her honest desires. All of them.
“Give me a week. I’ll make it happen,” I promise her, knowing this won’t be a problem and feeling confident about it.
Riley tilts her head and stares into my eyes as if she’s reading something hidden behind my irises. Her gaze narrows. Her mouth twitches. “And I want it to happen on July fifth,” she states, voice victorious.
“Damn,” I mumble through a grin, watching her smile stretch wider. “For a second, I thought you were going to make this easy on me.”
“Not a chance,” she chuckles. “And don’t think you’re getting off easy tonight either. We are still celebrating.” Riley pulls back and leaps from the couch, hurrying into the kitchen. She heads straight for the refrigerator, yanks open the freezer door and takes out the bottle of tequila she bought and stuck in there, holding it above her head.
I groan and drop my head back against the cushion, causing Riley to giggle before she starts hunting for glasses.
“You know what they say about that stuff—it makes you pretty. And I’m not sure you can handle me getting any more attractive, darlin’. Why don’t we celebrate with you kicking my ass in Madden some more?”
I throw out this other suggestion hoping she’ll take it, not because I hate tequila. Typically, I don’t mind drinking it. I just don’t think getting shit-faced off it right now is a good idea. Riley and I are touching again. We’re both flirting. Me more than her, but she’s giving it back. All in all though, we’re keeping things friendly.
And there’s nothing friendly about tequila.
“It only makes girls pretty. I doubt it said that in the men’s bathroom,” Riley argues. She rounds the couch and sets the bottle and shot glasses on the trunk, then she crouches behind it and pushes it closer to my knees. “There. And we don’t have any limes, so we’re drinking it straight.”
“Awesome,” I say, voice heavy with sarcasm as I sit forward more. I look at her with wide eyes as she claims the spot next to me.
Riley knocks against my shoulder. “It’ll be fun,” she says before pouring us both a shot.
“Famous last words,” I mumble.
“A ninety-seven. That’s like, so close to a perfect score, CJ. They should really just give it to me, you know? I always have gum for everybody.” Riley tosses a grape into the air, aiming to catch it in her mouth, but it hits her chin and bounces to the floor. “Ugh. I’m never going to get this.”
“Hit me.”
She smirks, leans forward, grabs another grape out of the bowl on the trunk, and tosses it at me. I bite into it.
“Show off,” she mumbles before shooting back another shot.
Her sixth.
“I agree with you. Supplying gum to the class is worth three points, at least.” I chew up my grape, laughing at Riley when she misses with another one. “Hey, you’re a perfect score in my book, darlin’. Just remember that.”
Cheesy? Yeah. But I’m one shot ahead of her so I can’t be responsible for any of the shit I’m saying right now.
And I’m saying a lot. I just told her five minutes ago I thought she was my ideal woman.
Thanks to the tequila, Riley found that to be hilarious.
She slaps her hand over her mouth and giggles until her eyes water. “Oh, my God. I got a good one. Wait.” She sets her shot glass down on the trunk, swaying a little as she rights herself, then once she’s straight, she tucks her legs underneath her and gets up on her knees so she’s hovering in front of me on the couch. One hand on the back cushion, she leans closer and points her finger at me, opens her mouth to speak, and then hesitates, closing it again. “Oh, wait. You need to sneeze first,” she prompts.
I breathe a laugh. “What?”
“You do!” She shoves at my chest, laughing. “It won’t work unless you sneeze. Come on.”
“I can’t sneeze on command.”
“Just . . . pretend sneeze.”
I stare at her, straight faced. “Ahchoo.”
“Smooth.” I hold my hand up, getting a high five from her. “I can top it though.”
“Yeah? Try me.”
I shoot back my seventh shot, wince as it goes down, and point at her with the hand holding the glass. “Did you sit in sugar? `Cause you got a sweet ass, baby.”
“Yes!” She pumps her fist into the air. “Oo! How about, are you a parking ticket? `Cause you got fine written all over you.”
“Do you have a name? Or can I call you mine?”
“You put the stud in bible study . . .”
I lean forward, set my glass on the trunk and slowly turn my head to look at her. “Christian pickup lines? Really?”
“What?” She shrugs, still laughing as she brushes hair out of her face using her sleeve covered hand. “I think it’s a good one. Reed fell for it. Oo! Speaking of Reed . . .”
I lean back as Riley climbs off the couch, doing it like an animal would and planting her hands on the ground first, then pulling her feet down and crawling away.
“Goof,” I chuckle. “What are you doing?”
She stands then, rushing into the kitchen, I think—I rub at my face instead of watching her. My head feels foggy. Fucking tequila. I need to stop drinking. When I lower my hands again, Riley is standing in the living room with her phone pressing to her ear.
I look at the time. It’s after one.
“Who are you calling?” I ask.
Riley holds up her finger, listening to someone on the other end of the line as she looks at the floor. Then she smiles and meets my gaze. “Reed! My brotha from the same motha! I just wanted to let you know I’m living with CJ.”
My eyes widen. What the fuck? She’s telling him?
Riley waves at me, smiling even bigger now. “It’s a business deal,” she continues into the phone, twisting her body at the waist like she’s excited about something and can’t stand still. “So, yeah, we’re roommates now . . . me and him. It’s a squad thing. You wouldn’t get it. But, anyway, I just wanted you to know that. Okay, so . . . have a good night. No! A good morning!” She giggles in delight as she lowers the phone and ends the call.
