CHAPTER NINETEEN #2
I felt heat threaten my cheeks, but I shoved it down hard. I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction.
Jake laughed like that answer made perfect sense. “Right. Classic.”
Riley stepped closer, not touching me, just near enough that the space between us felt claimed. His arm brushed mine as if by accident. It wasn’t.
“She’s starting school with us next week,” he said, eyes still fixed on me. “Thought she should meet people.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up even higher.
I nodded. “Starting Monday.”
Jake’s grin turned friendlier. “Nice. Don’t worry, the first week’s chaotic but easy to survive. Mostly.”
“Mostly,” Riley echoed, amusement curling around the word like smoke.
Jake looked between us, clearly sensing something he couldn’t quite label. “Well, come on. Everyone’s down by the fire—“
He started walking ahead, calling out greetings to others as he went, but Riley didn’t move.
He stayed right beside me.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then, just loud enough for me to hear over the waves, he murmured, “Not bad.”
I stiffened. “What?”
“You held your own,” he said, tone casual but eyes dark with assessment. “Didn’t stutter. Didn’t hide behind me. Didn’t run.”
“I’m not running from your friends,” I said tightly.
“Mmm.” His head tilted slightly, studying me like I was some puzzle he intended to solve. “Good. Because they’d eat you alive if you came in shaking.”
I bristled. “I’m not shaking.”
“You were earlier.” His mouth curved, subtle and sharp. “Different context, though.”
The bathroom.
Of course.
I forced every muscle in my body to stay still, neutral, unreactive.
Riley leaned a fraction closer, enough for me to hear the smile in his voice. “Relax, princess. I’m just saying, if you keep this up, you might actually survive tonight.”
I breathed in slowly.
Strong.
Unflustered.
Untouchable.
“I’ll be fine,” I said.
Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement. Approval. A challenge. Then he jerked his chin toward the bonfire.
“Let’s find out.”
He started walking toward the beach, hands in his pockets, the wind tugging at his shirt.
I hesitated only a second before following.
And even though my stomach churned with nerves, I made sure my steps were steady.
Riley didn’t look back.
But I knew he noticed.
The heat of the bonfire washed over us before we even stepped fully into the circle of light. Sparks drifted upward into the night like tiny fireflies, carried off by the ocean breeze. Music pulsed low from speakers half-buried in the sand, the bass thumping softly under the roar of the waves.
And the moment Riley stepped into view…
Everything shifted.
Heads turned.
Smiles brightened
People called his name.
“Riley!”
“Bro, where’ve you been?”
“Finally showed up!”
“There he is!”
He slipped into the crowd effortlessly, like walking into a room full of friends was as natural as breathing. I followed just behind him, feeling the heat of the fire on one side and the sharp edge of nerves on the other.
Then came the girls.
A whole cluster of them.
Most gave warm smiles, friendly waves, quick greetings. But a few… A few didn’t hide their interest at all.
One girl with glossy black hair and perfect red lips slid her hand along Riley’s arm as she said hi, leaning in incredibly close. Another flicked her hair back and bit her lip like she’d perfected her gestures in a mirror. A third gave him a smile so sweet it could make anyone’s teeth rot.
Riley didn’t flirt back. Not openly.
But he didn’t pull away either.
He stood there with that lazy, arrogant ease that made everyone want his attention, made them compete for it.
And to my absolute horror, something twisted low in my stomach.
Jealousy.
Sharp. Fast. Uninvited.
I swallowed it down instantly.
Absolutely not.
I did not get jealous over Riley Maddox.
But the feeling didn’t care what I thought. It simmered anyway, hot and uncomfortable, crawling beneath my skin like a warning I didn’t know how to ignore.
Riley turned his head slightly, catching the expression I was desperately trying to hide. His eyes flicked to mine, noticing everything, and the corner of his mouth lifted, slow and knowing.
He leaned closer. Not close enough for anyone else to hear. Just close enough for his breath to warm the shell of my ear.
“Careful,” he murmured. “You’re glaring.”
My chest tightened. “I’m not.”
“Sure,” he hummed. “Tell your face that.”
I fought the urge to step back. Or forward. I wasn’t sure which impulse was worse.
Another girl laughed at something Riley’s friend said, her hand brushing his shoulder like she had every right to touch him.
I crossed my arms to hide the way my hands curled into fists.
Riley’s eyes caught the movement.
His smirk deepened.
He dipped his head even closer, his voice a soft, private razorblade.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Not enjoying the view?”
Heat erupted in my cheeks. “Riley—“
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, cutting me off with infuriating ease. “You’re the only one who left the house with me tonight.”
My breath stuttered.
He let the words sink in for a second, warm, dangerous, deliberate, before adding, in a tone that slid straight under my skin.
“Besides…” His gaze dropped to my mouth for the barest second. “You’re much more fun to watch.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Then, just like that, he straightened, tossing a casual greeting to another friend as if he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in my ribcage.
The girls drifted away reluctantly, but Riley didn’t chase after them. He didn’t spare them a second glance.
No. His attention, absurdly, unfairly, impossibly, stayed on me.
I forced my shoulders back, tried to look untouched, unaffected, unbothered.
Untouchable.
But Riley’s soft laugh told me exactly how transparent I’d been.
“It’s cute when you pretend you don’t care,” he murmured, hands sliding into his pockets.
“I don’t,” I snapped.
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming.
Dangerous.
Amused.
Certain.
“Mmm,” he said. “Keep telling yourself that.”
It didn’t take long before people started noticing me. Not just glancing, but really noticing. Riley had walked straight into the firelight like he belonged to it, and I’d followed close enough that eyes naturally drifted to me.
Whispers started first.
Small.
Quick.
Sharp.
Who’s she?
Did he bring her?
Since when does Riley bring anyone?
Is she new?
My throat tightened.
I wasn’t used to being scrutinized like this. Not by strangers, not in the middle of a beach party, not while standing next to someone like Riley who pulled gravity with the ease of a black hole.
A couple girls huddled together near a cooler, looking me over with that evaluating expression girls perfected somewhere around seventh grade.
A tall guy with olive skin and an eyebrow piercing gave me a slow once-over, then shot Riley a grin. “Dude,” he said, “I didn’t know you were bringing arm candy.”
I froze.
Riley didn’t.
He stepped between us with a smooth, controlled motion, casual, but blocking the view of me all the same. His tone wasn’t friendly. Or angry. Just… cool. Sharp.
“Watch your mouth, Mateo.”
Mateo held up his hands in surrender immediately. “Chill, man. Just joking.”
Riley didn’t respond.
He was looking at me.
No, studying me.
Studying how I took the comment. How I handled the attention. How I stood, breathed, reacted.
A test. Another one.
And then someone else, some girl with a messy bun and sunburned shoulders, pointed at me and whispered loudly, “Who’s the girl, Riley?”
Riley didn’t even pause.
Didn’t even pretend to think about the answer.
He slid his eyes to me, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring something only he could taste.
Then his words were loud enough for the circle to hear. “Careful with her. She plays hard to get.”
Heat slammed into my cheeks so violently I almost swayed.
A ripple of laughter rolled through the group.
Not cruel, just surprised. Interested. Suddenly far too aware of me.
I opened my mouth to argue, to deny it, to say I do not, actually, but Riley wasn’t finished.
He leaned one shoulder close to me, not touching, but close enough that I felt the smug heat radiating off him.
“And she fights,” he added, tone lazy and wicked. “Trust me. The girl’s a menace.”
More laughter. Someone whistled. A girl raised her brows at me like, oh, you’re that type?
My blush deepened. I wanted to sink into the sand.
I elbowed him, a sharp jab to the ribs. “I don’t—“
Riley’s hand shot out, catching my wrist effortlessly, like he’d been waiting for it.
He didn’t grip.
Didn’t restrain.
Just held, lightly, like a warning.
Then, low enough that only I could hear, he murmured: “See? Told you. Bites.”
The group laughed again, but they weren’t laughing at me anymore, they were laughing because Riley had just made me part of the game. Something unpredictable. Someone who pushed back.
I yanked my wrist free, pretending the burn in my chest was anger and not something far more humiliating.
Riley’s eyes flicked down to my mouth, then back up, amused.
And then he said to the group, tone sharp enough to cut: “Don’t get your hopes up. She’s my problem.”
Not his step-sister.
Not his date.
Not someone he cared about.
His problem.
Something about the way he said it made my heart free-fall straight through my ribs.
My jaw tightened so hard it hurt.
My problem.
He’d said it like it amused him. Like it thrilled him. Like every flinch I made was entertainment served on a silver platter.
And the worst part, the part that made my stomach twist, was that he knew I’d blush. He knew I’d react. He’d counted on it.
Heat crawled across my face, and I hated that he caused it.
I hated that he could pull a reaction out of me with a few lazy sentences and a smirk.
I hated that he could make me feel small and furious and flustered all at the same time.
But under all that, under the embarrassment and the shock and the little sting of humiliation, something else sharpened.
A slow, cold, electric determination.
He thought he had me pinned.
He thought I was predictable.
He thought he could toss a few words into the firelight and watch me burn.
No.
Not anymore.
I straightened, lifting my chin just a fraction, enough for him to see, not enough for the group to notice. And when Riley’s eyes flicked back to me, something changed in them.
He saw it.
That tiny shift in me.
That quiet refusal. And he smiled, almost imperceptibly, like he’d just found the beginning of a challenge he actually wanted.
Fine.
Good.
Because I was done letting him drag reactions out of me like he owned my nerves and my pulse and every stupid spark under my skin.
He was playing with me?
Then I’d learn the rules.
I’d learn how to knock him off-balance the same way he constantly knocked me.
I forced the blush down, buried it, locked it behind my teeth.
I even managed a small, sharp smile, directed at him, not the group.
A silent message.
Try me again.
I dare you.
Riley’s brows lifted just slightly, his smirk twitching like he hadn’t expected me to recover that fast.
Good.
Let him be the one caught off guard for once.
Because I wasn’t going to be his entertainment anymore.
Not his flustered little toy.
Not his easy reaction.
Not the girl who blushed because he said something wicked in front of his friends.
No.
From now on, I was going to be a problem for him too.
A big one.
Starting now.