20. Riley
Riley
The last few days have been a treat chilling with Mabel.
We’ve mixed up our outings and gone out with the crew, but also been able to spend time together.
I know she said this was casual, but it’s been four months of enjoying each other’s company and bodies.
We have fallen into familiar and intimate routines.
But I don’t want to bring anything up because I don’t want her to shut this off and push me away.
I want to stay connected to her on this level, even if it means we're a secret and not official.
Tonight is going to be hard. We're all going out for a night in the city. I’m going to struggle to keep putting distance between us.
I’m not a huge drinker that I’ll get pissed and be all over her and disregard her boundaries—none of us are huge drinkers.
We can’t do anything on the sly and hope they will chalk it up to booze goggles.
They will see and ask questions I know Mabel doesn’t want to address and, again, risking her putting a stop to us hanging out.
Javi, Cole, and I are sitting around Cole’s pet-friendly city rental.
Otto sits at my feet, waiting patiently for a head scratch.
The all-black Staffordshire Terrier’s gigantic eyes look up at me, pleading.
Feels like how I look at Mabel. I shake my head and have a silent laugh to myself, reaching down to give him a thorough patting, to which he leans into my legs and waggles his tail.
Cole and Javi are arguing about something. I kind of tuned them out, instead looking at my phone and how long until we were meeting up with the girls. I check the time again and realise it's only been twenty minutes since I've been in my own Mabel-thought world.
I listen in on the conversation, waiting for my brain to catch onto what they are talking about, and slip in as if I have been listening all along. Like conversational double Dutch.
I realise they're talking about some TV show I haven’t been interested in watching, and I'm saved from contributing further to that conversation and go back to patting Otto. Lost in my thoughts.
Cole gets up to use the bathroom, and Javi looks over at me. “How you going? You’re scarily quiet.”
“Not that quiet. I haven’t watched that show yet. Nothing to contribute to that convo.”
“We haven’t been talking about that for the last hour straight. We were talking about training, the track schedule, and then this TV show,” he replies.
“Ohhhh, okay yeah, I would’ve had more to say at the first two things,” I reply. “Guess I have been in my head lately.”
“Kiara?”
“No. I mean, I’m always thinking of her, but not the reason.”
“Mabel?” Javi whispers, so Cole doesn’t hear .
“Yeah,” I reply sheepishly, caught out.
“What’s happening there?” Javi asks, caringly.
“Too much to discuss before Cole gets back,” I whisper, nodding towards where Cole disappeared to.
“Bring Otto outside. It’ll buy us some time and more of a warning when he finally emerges from the bathroom,” Javi says, getting up to go to the outside area of Cole’s rental. It is fake grass in a small square enclosure with a shade cloth overhead.
“Okay, just dot point it. What’s happening? It’s been months, right?” Javi asks, keeping his gaze on the sliding door for Cole’s imminent return.
“Yeah, four months, but she doesn’t want a relationship. Unsupportive and overcritical parents have burnt her, so she is happy doing things on her own terms, not relying on anyone else,” I blurt out.
“But you guys have spent an inordinate amount of time together. She doesn’t think you will be different? I mean, assuming you aren’t a complete pain in the ass and she’s just waiting for the end of the season to ditch you?” Javi jokes.
“Ha-ha, so funny. No, I am also keeping how I feel to myself. I don’t want to stop what we are doing, whatever it is. Casual, friends with benefits. I just have to keep my cool tonight around everyone. That’s all I am stressing about,” I confess.
Cole opens the sliding door and exclaims, “Thought you guys bailed on me.” Otto waddles over to Cole as he enters the area.
“Never, man!” Javi says .
“How long until we meet with the girls?” he asks.
“Thirty minutes,” I reply, instantly regretting being on the ball with the time.
“Keen bean to get out on that dance floor, hey? Will be nice to let loose a little,” Coles adds with a little move of his feet with his hands up by his shoulders.
“Yeah, it will be great,” Javi joins.
We make general chit chat and make sure Otto will be okay for a few hours before leaving with ten minutes to spare before meeting the girls. It’s late in the evening, because why go to a nightclub before 9:00 p.m.?
We take our time walking to the club, enjoying the chill in the air. The slight damp on the road indicates the looming threat of the on-again, off-again July rain.
It’s still relatively early, for nightclubs standards, so we only need to line up briefly outside the club before going in.
The nightclub is filled with random decorations and it screams over-the-top irony.
There are booths that line all walls and tables that fill in the areas outside the booths before you come to a sunken dance floor in the middle of the club.
There aren’t too many people yet, so not as cramped, and the girls are easy to spot.
Sophia is sitting at a booth and Fleur and Mabel are dancing.
I watch Mabel in the moment, carefree, singing along to an upbeat song.
I’m familiar with it because Mabel has been playing it constantly.
Her honey brown hair bobs around as she moves her body to the beat, her dress shimmering under the pulsing lights.
She ducked out before I could see her outfit for tonight, and I am glad she did.
Seeing her in the tight, short, black, sparkly dress with new Vans sends my heart racing.
She’s effortlessly breathtaking. I make my way to her.
I don’t even care. All my resolve to play this cool and aloof goes straight in the bin.
She is drawing me in. I am the moth to her flame.
My timing is right. Fleur leans to Mabel and I can hear her yell, “I’m going to the booth for a drink.” She turns and sees me. “Oh, you boys are here. Tag, you’re it; dance with Mabel.” And I don’t have to be told twice.
“Hey,” I say with a smile.
She returns with her own warm smile, “Hey. I was wondering how long you guys would be.”
“We were told 9:00 p.m.,” I reply. If I had known we were allowed to turn up earlier, I would have been here.
Her eyes shimmer with silver eyeshadow, and it sets off the hazel under these lights. “You look amazing,” I say into her ear, letting my lips linger close to brush against her skin, inhaling her deeply. She smells like whatever sugary appley drink she is having tonight.
“Thanks. You look pretty cute yourself,” she returns with a smile and a hand on my arm as we move together to the music.
“You girls get up to any trouble on your own?” I tease.
“I don’t know what you are insinuating there,” she replies with a mischievous grin and a step towards me.
“That you’re an instigator and always up to no good,” I continue to tease .
The other dancers around us crowd and cover us from our friends, tucked far away in a booth, but Mabel still steals a glance around and closes the gap between us, pressing her body to mine, her mouth close to mine, hovering next to it.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes are heated, looking into mine.
I’m waiting for her lead here. We are in public, our friends are so close.
She wants to keep this private; between us.
This is out of the norm for us. Like she has mentally caught what she has done, she quickly retreats, shyly tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Sorry. Got a little caught up,” she offers, looking embarrassed.
I collect her hands in mine and lift them up, moving her around to continue dancing.
“Just enjoy yourself.” I try to make her feel better by leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and continue to dance with her, hoping it will help her not overthink the moment.
Her smile returns and she moves with me, loosening up again and feeling the music.
We dance for a few songs together, singing to each other, laughing.
“I’m getting a drink. Would you like one?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” she replies and follows me to the bar.
The nightclub has gotten busier since we got here, and the lineup for the bar is chaotic.
Drunk people talk loudly and are swaying or mis-stepping around us.
I get taller so I can keep an eye on my surroundings.
It’s not rowdy, but messy. I see a flash of bright pink hair about to fall into Mabel, and instinctively move her to my front so they can catch themselves.
“Sorry!” the pink-haired woman says, covering her mouth as she laughs at her clumsiness.
I smile back politely before she turns back to her friends.
I keep Mabel’s back pressed to my front and my arms around her, protecting her from any other run-ins as we make our way to the front of the line. Having her there puts me at ease, and I relish the feel of her back resting on my chest.
Getting to the front of the bar, Mabel leans her elbows against the bar to be closer to the bartender to put her order in.
My eyes trail down to her ass as she bends over the bar, her dress slipping up a little, the back of her toned thighs exposed, begging for my hands to graze underneath and pull her panties down.
When the bartender moves to make her drink, I lean in. “What about my order?”
“Don’t worry, hotshot. I put your order in,” Mabel replies, I can hear the playfulness in her voice.
“Why am I going to regret this?” I laugh.