It was, possibly, the cutest thing I had ever witnessed.
I stood there, dumbfounded, as Riot, wet shirt and all, chased two giggling girls around a fountain.
He circled around again, the girls screaming and laughing, and as he ran past me, he splashed water at me again. So, I sighed then I took off after him.
We were both spent, soaked, and quiet. We had found a patch of grass right along the waterfront, lain down, and set out to let the sun dry us. My eyes were closed, face warm, and I could tell I had the most ridiculous smile on my face. I remembered Riot’s face when he realized I’d joined forces with the little girls, whose names I learned were Gracie and Amelia. We spent the good part of an hour chasing and splashing him before their mom had told them it was time to go. Five minutes into our water fight, Gracie and Amelia’s mom had told them to “leave those poor people alone, girls. They didn’t come here to play with children.” Riot had very politely told the mom that he didn’t mind playing, and that he needed help dousing me besides.
So then it was on.
I could hear people on bikes whizzing by, dogs barking, people talking, the heavy footfalls of joggers, and it was a calming symphony. I was absolutely relaxed, carefree, and happy, lying there on a patch of grass in the middle of the city with Riot.
“You almost kissed me,” I heard Riot rasp from his spot next to me on the grass. I suddenly went from absolutely relaxed to acutely aware of the zings of electricity his voice sent through me. I had almost kissed him, but only because he was about to kiss me, and his lips were so close, and so full….
“So?” I choked out.
“I was just pointing it out. Technically, I think you still owe me a kiss.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, letting you go was contingent upon the kiss you promised me. I let you go, but you never kissed me, therefore, ergo, heretofore, you owe me a kiss.”
“Heretofore?” I giggled.
“Are you laughing at me now?”
I didn’t answer, but I did continue to laugh.
“You wound me,” he said, pretending to be offended.
“I think that if there’s anything that happened today that should wound you, it should have been those two little girls totally owning you.”
“I went easy on them.”
“Sure.”
I heard movement next to me and turned to see Riot rolled to his side, elbow propped up, with his temple resting in his hand, looking at me with a smile in his shiny caramel eyes. “So, do I get to keep you for dinner?”
His expression was so hopeful, he looked as if he were waiting for me to give him a gift. There was a very large part of me that wanted to say yes, that wished to spend the rest of the evening with him discovering things about him, talking with him. But then I realized, with the same feeling as the ice cold water those girls had tossed on us, that if I wanted to learn things about him, he would probably want to know things about me too. I had to draw the line, had to tell him no.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, sitting up and drawing my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
“Didn’t you have a good time with me today?” he asked, sounding a little confused.
I turned my head to look at him. Trying to keep my voice light, I said, “Yeah. I had a lot of fun.”
“Then why won’t you have dinner with me?”
I exhaled. “Riot, listen, I told you I don’t really date people, and I’m not looking for a relationship. I think it would be better for both of us if we just kept this simple. Friendly.”
“Friendly,” he sighed, then huffed out a breath.
I winced. His ego sounded bruised. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, Kalli. I just really enjoy being around you, but I totally get it. However, there is one thing I refuse to leave Oregon without.”
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
“Your phone number.”
I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. “Why do you need my phone number?”
He pulled his head back and scoffed. “I have all my friends’ phone numbers, don’t you?”
I considered his argument. I did have all my friends’ phone numbers, but I wasn’t sure ‘friends’ was the correct term for what we were, or what he wanted us to be. But, then again, I couldn’t find a good enough reason to deny him. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, unlocked the screen, then handed it to him.
“Don’t snoop,” I said with a smile.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said with mocked insult.
I watched his thumbs move quickly over my screen, then he grabbed for his phone and did the same. He then held it out to me.
“There you go. All set.”
“Great,” I said, smiling. “So, when do you think you’ll go back to California?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I might head north for a bit, check out Canada. I hear Victoria is beautiful.”
“I’ve never been.”
“Really? But it’s so close to you.”
“I travel so much for work that usually when I’m not working, I stay home.” Marcus immediately came to my mind. I stayed home to take care of him. If I’d left for home when I finished that morning, I’d have been home with him already. Nancy could have taken a breather. As it were, I wouldn’t make it home until late evening, at best. I’d wasted an entire day. But it had been a wonderful wasted day. I looked over at Riot, admiring his profile as he watched a large cargo boat navigate its way under all the bridges of Portland.
His hair had dried in a sexy kind of disarray, brown locks sticking up every which way. The sun was hitting his already tan skin, highlighting the ridges and contours of his fantastic biceps. I could ogle a friend, right? He was so intensely sexy, it was hard to push the sight of him out of my mind. I had to leave. Sitting here, staring at him, wasn’t doing me any good.
“Can I drop you off at your hotel?”
He turned back to look at me and smiled, but it wasn’t the same smile he’d worn all day. It was a resigned smile, as if he were knowingly giving up. It wasn’t any less sexy though, so I stood up, brushing any residual grass from my backside.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” He smiled at me, but said nothing, so I smiled back, then turned and walked back toward the square to my car.
With each step, more confusion rolled through me. That had to have been the most awkward goodbye I’d ever experienced. I didn’t know what I expected from of him, but he could have at least said something. I didn’t need him to hug me or give some long, lingering goodbye, but the way I left it felt, well, unfinished.
I tried to shake my irritation off, walking back through the mass of people still shopping in the market. But still, even when I’d made it back to my car, I was upset. I didn’t want to have dinner with him, so he just blew me off? It seemed like a jerk move. I stewed about the way we parted halfway to Seattle, then I let out a loud sigh because, frankly, he was still the most attractive man I’d ever met. Jerk or not, the terrible goodbye did nothing to fog the memory of the day I’d spent with him. He’d been fun, interesting, polite, and made me feel like there wasn’t anyone else in the world he wanted to spend his day with.
Turned out, his cold goodbye was exactly what I needed to walk away without the dull ache of longing I’d had all day being with him. Then, as I pulled into my driveway, the concrete illuminated by the flood light attached to the front of the house, I realized I’d spent the whole drive thinking about him anyway.
Chapter Six
Another Bandage
It had been two weeks since Riot blew me off at the waterfront, and as much as I tried to forget about him, my mind simply wouldn’t let it happen. A few times, I’d even drafted text messages to him. Some of them were friendly, asking
if he’d made it to Victoria or if he’d managed to make it back to California safely. Others were angry, asking why he’d acted childishly when we’d parted ways. A few of them, okay, most of them, were suggestive.
I was a twenty-nine year old woman, without a boyfriend or other source of regular sexual gratification, and I hadn’t been on a date in months. I didn’t do relationships, but I wasn’t keen on random hook-ups either. I needed to, at least, get to know a guy a little first. And that was what I was hoping to do with Scott.
I’d met Scott at Starbucks. I was standing in line and he bumped into me from behind, apologizing profusely, smiling wide with his white teeth gleaming at me. He was classic, upper-middle class, blond haired, blue eyed, former frat guy perfect. Well, perfect for a non-committed, one or two night rendezvous.
He was everything Riot wasn’t. He wasn’t famous, he wasn’t tall or dark, and he wasn’t occupying every corner of my mind all the time. Scott was exactly what I needed to take my mind off Riot. So, I’d invited him to come out to celebrate with my friends. Ella got her memory back, Megan got a promotion, and I just happened to be in Portland when all the excitement came about and we were going to drink.
I was about to enter the bar when I get a text from Scott.
**Hey. Sorry. Something came up last minute. I’ll try to make it if I can.**
Well, there went my plans for the evening.
It wasn’t so much that I needed Scott, or even wanted him that badly. I was just so tired of thinking about Riot, especially when it was obvious, from his lack of communication, that he wasn’t thinking about me at all. Couple that with the fact that Marcus had a setback in school the week before, causing all kinds of drama and making me second guess myself about his care, and I needed one night to just check out of my life.
I sighed, but then shook off my disappointment, hoping to rally and not waste an entire evening being mopey.
The bar was packed and the bass was pumping. I could feel the vibrations in my chest and see people’s heads bopping along to the beat on the dance floor. I spotted Megan, Patrick, and Ella at a table in the back. Next to Ella was a tall, well-built, dark-haired man who I’d never met before. As I made my way to them he took off for the bar.
I gave Megan and Ella hugs hello and waved at Patrick as he offered me a shy smile.
“Where’s your date?” Megan asked.
“He’s a little hot and cold, I’m afraid. I invited him and he said he’d try and make it, but I’m not holding my breath.”
Ella frowned and rubbed her hand up and down my arm, trying to comfort me.
“Maybe he’ll surprise you and show up,” Ella offered hopefully. Just after she’d spoken her words, the attractive man came back, handing her a drink.
Ella introduced me to her boyfriend, Porter, and then embarrassingly told me to close my mouth because, good God, he was attractive. Megan had told me time and time again that Ella had caught a good one, but he was spectacular. And also, so obviously in love with her. Since she’d regained her memory they’d been attached at the hip. She looked at him as if he were her everything and it made my heart ache a little and my thoughts found their way back to Riot.
The girls insisted I dance with them, and even though I put up a good fight, they dragged me to the dance floor. Eventually, a few songs in, after downing my first drink rather quickly, I started to loosen up. I pushed out thoughts of Riot, and I even managed to push away the hope that Scott would show up. Scott was just a bandage after all. Just someone to keep my mind occupied and off every emotion Riot seemed to evoke in me.
After a few more songs, and another drink, another bandage made his way to me, pulling me away from the girls, offering to distract me with his body. I let his hands wander, let him feel me, grind against me to the rhythm of the music and I tried really hard to not imagine it was Riot’s hands running over the curve of my hips.
Then, suddenly, the part of the night where everyone was merry and carefree slipped away into chaos.
Megan pulled on my arm, turning me away from the guy I was dancing with. “Have you seen Ella?” she yelled into my ear to be heard over the music.
“No,” I yelled back. “Where’d she go?”
“She went to get drinks ten minutes ago, but she’s not at the bar and we haven’t seen her.”
I looked around and saw Porter and Patrick making their way across the dance floor, eyes wide, looking for her. I stepped away from my dance partner, not offering an excuse or a goodbye.
“Let’s go check the bathroom,” I said, looking at Megan. She nodded and we made our way to the back of the club. I spied a hallway along the wall, but Megan must have seen it too because she pushed past me and ran toward the entryway.
“She’s over here!” Megan’s voice was pained and panicked.
“Porter!” I yelled into the club as loudly as I could, hoping somehow he’d hear me. I caught his eye when his head snapped in my direction. “She’s down here,” I screamed, pointing toward the hallway, just as I heard Megan crying out, “Shit, shit, shit!”
The next thirty seconds were a blur of activity. Porter ran past me down the hallway, Patrick came for Megan, then Porter was carrying Ella out of the club. I couldn’t help but stand in my spot and watch it all unfold. I had no idea what had happened, but Ella had looked petrified as she’d been whisked past me.
The next thing I knew, Patrick was telling me that Ella wanted me to go home with them, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“What about Ella?” I asked. “Is she all right?”
“Let Porter handle it,” Megan said. “Ella needs him right now.”
I nodded; surely Megan would know better than me.
I walked with Megan and Patrick to their car, climbed in the backseat, and couldn’t have felt more like an outsider if I’d tried. They were murmuring to each other, making comments I didn’t follow, and I couldn’t help feeling like I was out of place.
“What happened to Ella?” I finally asked, straight out, tired of being in the dark.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think Kyle attacked her in the hallway.”
“Kyle? Her ex-boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” Megan said, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.
“Shit,” I mumbled. “Do you think she’s okay?” I wanted to pull out my phone and call her, wanted to talk to her, hear her voice.
“No, I don’t. I don’t think she’s hurt physically, but I can’t imagine she’s faring well emotionally.”
I didn’t bother responding. Besides, there wasn’t much else to say. Ella had been put through the wringer for the last couple months. I was glad she had Porter with her. If anyone could help her deal with this, it was him.
The next morning I was woken by Megan. She’d let me crash in her and Patrick’s spare bedroom. My head was foggy and pounding from the alcohol the night before, but Megan’s voice was urgent so I found myself alert immediately.
“Kal, wake up. We’ve got to talk.”
I slowly sat up, letting my eyes adjust to the light and, well, being awake.
“What is it?”
“So, Ella and Porter are on the phone.”
“Okaaaay….”
Megan’s voice and face were strained. She was worried about something. “Ella says that Kyle, you know, her ex-boyfriend? Well, she’s saying that he’s that guy you were supposed to meet there last night.”
“Wait, what?”
Megan took in a deep breath, obviously flustered. “She says that last night, while Kyle was attacking her, he said that he was Scott. That he’d been using you to get information about her.”
My stomach dropped and my breath caught. My pulse sped up and my eyes darted around the room as I tried to comprehend what she was saying. My mind reeled, trying to remember what I’d told him, what kind of clues I could have given away.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. There had been a couple conversations where I’d spoken about Ella and her unusu
al circumstances. One in particular where I expressed real hatred for her ex-boyfriend whom I’d never met, but told Scott I fully supported Porter when he wanted to go to the police. And, I had told him she’d be at the bar last night. “This is all my fault,” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.
“Kalli, no. This is Kyle’s fault. He’s the psychopath.” Megan sweetly patted my hand, but then stood up and I heard her walk down the hall, still talking into the phone. I could hear her consoling Ella, trying to convince her that I was fine, that I hadn’t gone home with anyone, and that I was safe.
Of course, the night after Ella got attacked, she was worried about me. My head fell into my hands and I couldn’t help the cries that came out of me. I was a quiet crier, a habit I adopted after listening to my parents fight at night. I could cry without making a sound. So I did. I cried as I got out of bed, as I put my clothes back on, leaving behind the pajamas Megan had loaned me the night before. Then I continued to cry as I slipped out of her house, sending her a text that I had to go and would talk to her later.
I cried until I was well into Washington, nearly halfway home.
When I finally arrived home, exhausted from both lack of sleep and also two hours of crying, I was greeted by Marcus. He enthusiastically hugged me, meeting me halfway up the path, like always.
“Hey, Marky. How are you?”
“I’m okay. I missed you, Kalli. You were gone longer than you said you’d be.”
Guilt immediately ripped through me. I had stayed an extra day to see “Scott.” Had I just left when I said I would, nothing would have ever happened. I sighed, but tried to smile for Marcus, not wanting him to know anything was bothering me.
Never Standing Still Page 6
