Rivers

by S. L. Scott

  I thought he would jump at that, that maybe I do still know him better than I’m admitting to, but he lets it go and turns on the radio instead. We listen to music until we pull into a parking lot and he shifts the car into park.

  Taking in the scenery, I smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, but I remember being here with him. “What are we doing here?”

  “Going back to the start.”

  13

  Rivers

  “What are you up to?” Stella asks.

  Pretending to zip my lips, I pick up the grocery bag in one hand and hold her hand in the other because if she’s letting me hold her hand, then I’m going to damn well hold it.

  We walk across the high school lawn to the old oak tree. What a pair we make. Both of us are smiling like fools who got caught making out in the janitor’s closet during school hours. We would know. I set the bag down and then point. “You were sitting right about here.”

  “Do you want me to sit?”

  “Yep.” I nod and give her a wink.

  She sits down and leans against the tree. Stretching her legs out, her cutoffs ride high on her toned legs. She’s a major distraction, but I pull my gaze away so I can begin the romancing. Going back to my bag of supplies, I reach in and pull out the book I found in the back seat of her car. I also pull out the brown paper lunch sack.

  When she sees the items, her mouth falls open, and her hands cover her chest. “This is why you went to the store? Rivers,” she says, sounding more emotional over the gesture than I expected. “This is the sweetest thing that anyone’s ever done for me. And you used to do some pretty darn sweet things.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  I sit down so I’m facing her, our legs stretched out and parallel. I gently knock her hip with my foot. “What are you reading?”

  She turns the book over in her hand and shows me the cover. “Until I Met You.”

  “What’s it about?”

  A grin graces her lips. She’s onto me, but she loves it. “Well,” she says, pausing to think. The smile returns, and she leans forward, her enthusiasm too big to keep her contained to one spot. “It’s about a couple who decide to determine their own destiny and fight for their love.”

  Resting back on my elbows, I say, “Sounds like another couple I know.”

  “Really?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Who?”

  I know she’s teasing, but damn if she isn’t the cutest doing it. I can play along. “I’m looking at the better half.”

  She leans back on the tree, settling in. “Are we fighting for our love, Rivers?”

  Staring right into her eyes, I say, “I sure hope so.”

  “You’re quite the romantic these days.”

  “I always was when it came to you.”

  I hope she remembers me that way. If not, I definitely have more work cut out for me than I thought. Even when she looks down, I can still see the smile that reaches her eyes. Under dark lashes that flutter when her gaze meets mine again, she says, “I won’t deny we had something very special.”

  I rub my hand over the top of her bare leg. “I like those shorts on you.”

  “They’re just old cutoffs.”

  “They look good on you.”

  “Thanks.” She hates being the focus like that, but she is so fucking gorgeous, and I want to shower her in attention. Grabbing the bag, she asks, “Did you bring lunch today?”

  Hearing her repeat the same thing she said to me ten years ago takes me back as if it were yesterday. I’m just as unsure now of where this will go as I was then. “No, not today.”

  “That’s awful. I bet you’re hungry.”

  “Starving.”

  “You can have half of mine.”

  “I shouldn’t take your lunch.”

  “You need food, Rivers.” The words tumble out as if she had them memorized. She digs the sandwich out and starts laughing. “It’s a bologna sandwich. I don’t think I’ve eaten this since I moved out of the house.” She pulls out a half cut on the diagonal and hands it to me. “Why didn’t you have lunch that day?”

  “I did. I just forgot it at home. I had planned to talk to you that day. My lunch slipped my mind until I was standing near you and realized I had left it on the table.” I eat half of my half sandwich in one bite.

  “Ah. My mom bought bologna in bulk and froze it. Freezing it made it rubbery. I once swore I would only buy freshly cut deli meat when I grew up.” She laughs to herself as if the memory isn’t as funny as it once was.

  When her smile turns into a frown, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t understand my mom. It’s like once we became teenagers, she dusted her hands and was done being our mom.”

  “Do you still talk to her?”

  “Not often. She was vacationing in Mexico on my birthday, so I didn’t hear from her. And then at Christmas, she said she would be back to spend it with Meadow and me, but we sat in Meadow’s apartment until five waiting. She never showed, so we took the dinner we made over to my dad, wished him a good holiday, and went to get In-N-Out Burger.”

  “Why didn’t she show? Did you find out?”

  “The guy she’s dating has grown kids, and he talked her into spending it with his family instead.” Her eyes flash to mine, and she sits up, her hand resting on my leg. “Oh Rivers. I’m so sorry. Here I am whining about not seeing my mom when—”

  Sitting up, I say, “It’s okay. It doesn’t get easier not being able to see my mom or hear her voice, but it is what it is.” I slide my fingertips under hers and add, “She loved you like her own.”

  “I think I loved her more than my own. I feel like a horrible person for saying that, but your mom was . . .” A wistful smile on her face causes me to smile too. “She was amazing. Did you know she gave me one of her dresses from high school to wear to homecoming?”

  “I didn’t know that.” There’s an ache that never seems to subside from the death of my mom. It flares anytime she’s mentioned, like now. I rub the spot on my chest. “But it doesn’t surprise me.”

  It’s dark, but I can still see Stella so clearly from the lights shining near the path. She says, “When we got nominated for homecoming court, she was so happy for us. I remember her pulling me into her room and offering me one of her old dresses. She said we could have it altered, or I could change it however I wanted.” Stella pauses as she looks at the brown bag in her lap, seeming to lose her appetite.

  “Hey,” I say. When she looks up, I move a little closer. “What’s wrong?”

  Reaching over, she takes my hand in hers. “My mom ripped the dress I picked out. I apologized through tears to your mom, and you know what she did?”

  “What?”

  “She hand sewed the tear and blamed the fabric for not being high quality. She knew it was my mother, but she never said a negative thing about her.”

  “I never heard her say a bad thing about my father either, and that asshole left her with three little boys to raise on her own.”

  “You’re so much like her in your temperament and care of people. I mean,” she says, smiling and peeking up under those long lashes. “What happened with us aside, you’ve always been the one there for everyone, including your brothers.”

  “Do you mind if I ask what happened to the dress?”

  “Louisa knew I couldn’t afford much . . . or anything really. So she gave me free range of her three dresses.”

  “I remember that dress on you. I didn’t realize it was my mom’s.”

  “We kept it our secret. I never felt more beautiful than when you looked at me that day.”

  “The dress. It was blue.”

  “Your favorite color.”

  “Your eyes are my favorite color, but blue after that.”

  Stella tilts her head to the side, showing me those beautiful green eyes. “Your mom altered the dress herself and then took me shopping for shoes.”

  “I thought you bought the dress, and she was just tailori
ng it to you. As soon as dinner was done, she would go to her bedroom and work on it. You would have thought it was a wedding dress by how she treated it and wouldn’t let me see. She told me I should see it on you the first time.”

  Although I know Stella’s happy right now, tears fill her eyes anyway. “The dance was three days before . . .”

  I nod and take a deep breath. The call replaying in my head. “There’s been an accident . . . Louisa Crow . . . Come now . . .”

  “I miss her every day,” I say.

  “I do too.”

  “You looked incredible in that dress.”

  “You looked pretty incredible in that suit, your highness.”

  “I only won because I was escorting the queen.”

  She sighs. “It’s funny how being crowned homecoming prince and princess of the junior court meant so much to me back then. I felt like that meant we would always be together.”

  “We get to determine our own destiny.”

  Holding up the book again, she says, “Like Hazel and Jude.”

  Reaching forward, I press my hand flat against hers in the air between us. “Like Stella and Rivers.”

  “Just like them.” She takes a bite of the bologna sandwich, and while she chews, she digs an orange out of the bag. “You thought of everything.”

  “I thought of you. You always smelled like oranges.”

  “They’re my favorite.”

  “I used to be your favorite.”

  “Maybe you will be again.”

  A flashlight hits our eyes, temporarily blinding us. “You can’t be on school property after hours.”

  Squinting, I hold my hand up to block the light so I can see. A cop stands there, lowering his light to the ground beside us. “Sorry, Officer. We were reliving our first date.”

  “I’m sure that will earn you some bonus points, but you need to pack it up and move off the property.”

  Stella says, “Yes, sir. We will.”

  I had just enough time to shove the small sandwich in my mouth and get up before he was rushing us toward the car.

  We’re laughing as we load into the car and pull out of the parking lot. But what I love most is the way she casually rests her hand on my leg like she used to. It’s as if there’s been no time away from each other. “Where to next, Romeo?”

  “I’m fucking starving. That little sandwich wasn’t enough to tide me over.”

  With a laugh, she looks me over. I work out for many reasons, one of which is because touring is hard, and if I’m not in shape, I wouldn’t be able to play at the level I do. But I like the way she lets herself linger on different parts of my body, appreciating it in ways that make me want to flex and tighten for her. She says, “Well, you’re much bigger now. How about we grab something, and I don’t know, do something adventurous?”

  “Adventurous, huh?”

  “I have an idea, but first, burger or tacos?”

  “Burger.”

  The remains of our fast food dinner are abandoned on a table right next to our clothes. “The first time we ate lunch under that oak tree, you asked me what type of guitar I played.”

  “Yeah.” She smiles as if she’s busted. “I heard you in the music room and asked my dad about them. He dabbled but never committed to the instrument.”

  “You asked him about guitars because of me?”

  “I had these thoughts, little daydreams, about us being alone one day, and it would give me something to talk to you about so you hopefully didn’t look at me like I was an idiot.”

  Wearing a deep pink bra and bright yellow thong, I take in that incredible body of hers as she swims away from me, across the pool, and rests her arms on the side. She drags her hand over her wet hair, and says, “I had the worst crush on you. Every girl in school was in love with one of the Crow brothers. You were mine.”

  “Your love?” I wink.

  “More than.”

  Swimming toward her, I keep my head above water, and say, “I still am.”

  That pink bottom lip is tugged under her teeth, and a sly smirk takes claim of the other side of her mouth.

  “You’re still mine?”

  “Wholeheartedly,” I say, “It took me a year to build up enough courage to talk to you that day. It would have saved me a lot of trouble had I known you liked me. My friends were laughing from the corner of the building where they were spying on us. Jet had the same lunch period and told me he’d kick my ass if I continued to drag this out. He was tired of hearing about my ‘pining’ as he called it.”

  Kicking her feet in the water in front of her, splashing me, she says, “I like the idea of you pining over me. Did you make Jet proud?”

  “Yeah. He patted my back and then put me in a headlock of pride after school.” I chuckle from the memory. My brothers were always my best friends. My mom used to say the three of us had to stick together no matter what. That long after she was gone, we’d have each other. Thank fuck we did. Life would be nothing without them too . . .

  Her legs lower, allowing me to get closer. I swoop in against her and plant my feet on the bottom of the pool. Only the stars and moon above, and lights on the sides of the pool shine, but her eyes look at me like I can do no wrong. “Do you know how incredibly sexy you are?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “That’s a damn shame. I plan on reminding you. No games. No beating around the bush. Just truth in action.”

  “Are you going to keep talking about action or make a move, Rivers?”

  I take her face gently in my hands, and whisper, “Make a move.” Tilting my head, I bend my knees, and press my lips to hers. Soft and supple, welcoming with that hint of possession that gets me hard. Her legs come around my waist and her arms around my neck as I slide my arms around her back, so her back isn’t scratched by the rough edge of the pool. As our kisses deepen, my body presses to hers, steadying us in the water.

  “Rivers,” she moans in my ear when our lips part, clinging to me as water laps around us. “What are we doing?”

  Although I know she means more than this moment, I keep her in the present. “What do you want to be doing?”

  “Kissing you.”

  “Then I’ll kiss you till the sun rises.”

  The giggle that escapes tickles my ear. Her happiness makes me feel invincible. I made her laugh. I made her moan. I made her—“Rivers?”

  I spin us in the water so I’m against the side instead, not wanting her to get a scratch on her body. “What?”

  “Where are we anyway?”

  “Right here together. Just you and me and a whole night ahead of us.”

  She smiles and runs her hands over my shoulder and up my neck. When her hand reaches my jaw, she replaces it with her lips and kisses me all the way to my ear. “No,” she whispers. “Who do you know who lives in these apartments?”

  “No one. Just wanted to get you naked as soon as I could.”

  She flails and sinks under when she pushes off. When she pops back up, she starts swimming back to the other side but stops to look back. “You’re absolutely crazy. You know that?”

  Crazy about you. “You wanted adventure.” I swim after her and catch her just past the middle of the pool.

  “Adventure. Not to get arrested for trespassing.” But I see the twinkle in her eyes. I see how much she loves this even if she won’t admit it.

  Our feet don’t touch, so I grab her waist and lift her until her legs are around me again. With her hair slicked back and all of her wet wrapped around mine, she’s a siren who speaks to my basic instincts. She always did.

  I could try to hide my physical reaction, but I don’t. Instead, I move my hands lower and hold her ass harder so she feels every last inch of how she affects me. Her breathing matches mine, but watching her chest rise and fall so heavily before me makes me want to slip inside her like I used to.

  She kisses me again before she says, “We should go before the cops are called.”

  “I can handle them, but if
you’re worried, we’ll leave.” I carry her to the edge and set her on the side. I hop out right after but notice how she walks without hiding her body from me. That yellow thong isn’t hiding anything and when she turns back to me, I see my tattoo peeking out from under the lace of her pink bra. “What are you doing?”

  “Admiring you.” No need to lie. “Your body is just . . . you’re really fucking sexy.”

  Tossing my shirt at me, she says, “So are you. Get dressed. You’re making it hard to keep my hands off you.”

  “If that’s the case,” I reply, standing up and taking my boxer briefs down. They’re soaked and I have no problem going commando in my jeans. “I just might stay naked all night.”

  She gasps when she sees me and quickly turns her back to me. What can I say? I’m hard for the woman.

  “Rivers,” she admonishes.

  I come up behind her and wrap myself around her. “What is it, baby? Did you forget what I look like? How about what I feel like?”

  “Jeez,” she says, “I must have.” She’s squirming, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to wriggle free or get a better feel of the situation.

  Holding her hands to her cheeks, I see how she’s forgotten what it’s like to be around someone she can be free with, someone she can be herself with. So, I run my hands down her body—the sides, her hips, and slowly bring them up to her waist. “Maybe you need to do some exploring of your own, Stella.”

  I’m given a playful jab with her elbow into my ribs. “Good grief, you’re ridiculous.” When I set her free, she turns around to face me and slips on her shirt that clings to her wet skin. “You’ve fed me, and you’ve wooed me. What’s your next move, Romeo?”

  “Romeo, huh? What would Romeo do with you?”

  Sidling back up to me, she wraps her arms around my middle and tugs my ass toward her. “Kiss me again?”

  Is it stealing if she wants me to kiss her? I add a little body grind when I finish kissing those sweet lips. “We’re wet, Rivers.” Damnnnnn. She knows how to tease a man. “Should we go home?”

  Fuck. I was hoping to spend more time with her. “I can take you home.” I start to pull back to get dressed.