Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
NATHAN
Note to self: no more touching Riley.
After the embarrassing misunderstanding where I accidentally hit on my best friend’s little sister, I made a decision.
I would be a good big brother to Riley.
And since I’m a competitive guy, I’ve determined that my competition is that little boy at the fair who got the little girl to stop crying. I can’t let that kind-hearted, mature little punk outshine me.
Be protective, check.
Tease her every now and then, check.
Remind her that I’ve got her back if she needs it, check and check.
I’m doing everything right.
So the problem isn’t my strategy.
It’s this weird thing that my heart does when I look at Riley.
Like just now. She was in the passenger seat and I was holding her hand and she was giving me this soft, dewy look.
And I kind of lost my mind and forgot myself.
The thing is, I know who I am.
Nathan Campbell. Hockey player. A good friend. Not a perfect guy by any means but someone who always aims to do the right thing.
And I know her.
Riley Carter.
Off-limits Riley.
My-best-friend-would-beat-me-with-a-broom-if-I-dated-her Riley.
But then my delusional brain tripped and said ‘psst, there’s a beautiful woman in your passenger seat.’
And it suddenly felt like I was just a guy and Riley was someone I’d asked on a date.
Someone I’d like to get to know a lot better.
Someone I could hold hands with and go for long walks.
Someone I could take out for dinner and talk with until the waiter came and announced that everyone had left and it was closing time.
I’ve never felt this comfortable around a woman I’m attracted to. I tend to put my foot in my mouth or make lame jokes or be way too stiff. But with Riley, I feel like… me.
“Nat, are you getting cookie dough or will you try something with actual taste for once?” Riley teases, looking up at me under the harsh lights of the ice cream store.
The dark outline around her eyes is even clearer now. What on earth is that? It makes her eyes violently captivating.
When I don’t say anything, she tilts her face to the side like mom’s German Shephard when it hears a weird noise.
It’s annoying how cute she is.
Geez, I don’t want to notice.
I really don’t.
I glance away from her and ease back a bit so I’m not standing too close. “What else do you suggest?”
“Can I get a sample of the cheesecake?” Riley asks the bored-looking ice cream clerk.
The girl dutifully scoops the ice cream with the spoon and hands it over.
Riley swivels to me. “Tell me what you think.”
I go cross-eyed looking at the spoon and then at the beautiful woman shoving it at me. Are we doing this? Right now? When I’m trying so hard to beat that punk from the fair in the ‘best older brother’ race?
“I bet it’ll blow cookie dough right out of the water,” Riley says. “Come on. Take it.”
Oh. Oh.
I clear my throat, glad that my thoughts are private. At least no one can tell that I thought Riley was trying to feed me.
That would be a very couple-y thing to do.
And we are not a couple.
We are brother and sister.
Sort of.
“Can I try the triple fudge brownie please?” Riley asks the attendant.
“Triple fudge?” I raise a brow.
She brushes one of the hair wisps in front of her face aside. “After the day I’ve had, I need chocolate reinforcement.”
See? Why is she making cute jokes like that?
I smile as Riley pops the spoon into her mouth and when she pulls it back, there’s a little chocolate stain on the corner of her lips. I’m lifting my hand to brush it away when I realize that would be very un-brotherly.
I divert to the napkins on the counter and hand it over instead.
“Thanks.” Riley smiles at me.
Note to self: do not look directly at Riley’s smile.
I avert my eyes and focus on my surroundings. The ice cream shop is buzzing. Through the doors to the right, there’s an outdoor play area where parents can watch their children on the playground. I notice a familiar face under one of the large, beach-like umbrellas.
Is that Renthrow?
I turn quickly, hoping he doesn’t see me.
“I’ll have two scoops of the brownie,” Riley says to the attendant. “Nat, do you want the cheesecake or something else?”
“The cheesecake is fine,” I say in a rush.
The clerk takes her time digging out the ice cream. I silently beg her to speed it up, and barely stop myself from snatching the ice cream cones out of her hands when she passes them over the counter.
I pay at the register, leave a tip in the jar and swerve to the exit.
Sweet, sweet escape.
Unfortunately, when I push the door with my shoulder, I notice that I am holding the door open for me, myself, and I.
Swerving my neck, I glance behind me.
Riley isn’t there.
She’s standing in the middle of the ice cream parlor, a finger pointed at the outdoor play area. I look in that direction and see a woman with chin-length black hair waving Riley over. Riley grins and starts running to the woman.
My heart sinks to my toes.
Should I just wait for her in the car?
To my horror, Renthrow catches sight of me with my leg halfway out the door. I’ve been had, and it is now officially considered rude if I just leave.
Reluctantly, I join Riley at the table. The shriek of children having fun fills the air and it forces Riley and her friend to talk loudly to one another.
“I thought that was you!” Riley yells.
“I know! I was just telling Renthrow ‘hey, I think that’s my neighbor’. And then you turned around!”
In contrast to the women’s exuberance, Renthrow and I exchange a silent chin-up greeting. Thankfully, he’s not looking at me with the same pity and concern that he had during training.
That puts me at ease.
“Oh no. Your ice cream is melting,” the woman beside Renthrow says, pointing to me.
I look down and realize both ice cream cones are dripping on my hand.
“Let me take mine, Nat.” Riley rips her ice cream away and it feels like she’s yanking my safety blanket.
“Sit, sit.” The woman’s eyes sparkle at me. “You’re Nathan Campbell, right?”
“That’s me.”
“I’ve seen you play at the Friday night scrimmages. You’re really good.”
“Thanks.”
Renthrow grunts. “What about me? Am I really good?”
My eyes nearly pop out of my face when I hear his petulant tone.
“Yes, babe.” The woman pinches both his cheeks and smushes his face. “You’re the best.”
Renthrow nods as if all is right in his world now.
“Nat, this is Cordelia, my neighbor.” Riley glances between Renthrow and Cordelia. “And is this… your boyfriend?”
“Yes, this is Viking Renthrow and that adorable little girl on top of the slide is Gordie.”
I look that way and notice Renthrow’s seven-year-old daughter waving at us and laughing with glee as she skids down the slide.
“She’s adorable,” Riley coos.
“And smart and thoughtful and sweet,” Cordelia boasts.
Renthrow grins proudly and it’s clear he feels the same. If the man puffs his chest out anymore, he won’t be able to fit around the table.
“She’s going to represent her entire school at a Children In S.T.E.M. conference next month,” Cordelia informs us.
“Wow,” I say.
“Sometimes, I think back to what I was like at seven and the difference is astounding. I was not that accomplished.”
“What was I doing at seven?” Riley chomps on her ice cream and looks up at the sky. “I can’t even remember.”
I stretch my arm along the back of her chair. “You were running all over the place, being a menace.”
“I was not.” Riley turns her nose up at me. “Don’t listen to him. He was negatively influenced by my older brother and his memory cannot be trusted.”
“Are you two related?” Cordelia asks, glancing between us.
“We’re like siblings,” Riley answers easily.
I stare at her, bothered by how comfortable she is admitting that even though it’s something I’ve been telling myself for a while now.
I clarify to the table. “Not by blood. I’m best friends with her brother.”
“Oh.” Cordelia eyes my arm that’s hanging over Riley’s chair.
I withdraw my hand and focus on eating my ice cream that has become a never-ending source of dripping cheesecake juice. I should have gotten mine in a cup.
“Here,” Riley says, patting around my hand with a napkin. “You’re still such a messy eater, Nat.”
“If this was cookie dough, it would have been gone in three chomps.”
Her eyes narrow. “Oh, so you’re blaming me now?”
“I’m just saying. If it’s not broken…”
“Fine. Next time, I’ll leave you to your salmonella cup.”
“Cookie dough ice cream is not the same as actual cookie dough, Riley.”
“It’s not a crime to be wrong, Nat. I accept you as you are, even if you have horrifying taste in ice cream.”
I burst out laughing. “Who made you the ice cream police?”
Her comeback is quick. “I’m the self-appointed queen of the ice cream committee, and I also work on the ice cream police force…”
“Self-appointed?” My eyebrows fly up.
“This is not something that’s debatable, Nat.”
This conversation is so weird and ridiculous and I love it. “Please tell me where the ice cream committee is located so I can send a complaint.”
“It’s a secret. Not just anyone can—”
Someone sneezes and Riley stops mid-speech.
We both look across the table at where Renthrow and Cordelia are staring at us.
Renthrow wipes his nose guiltily.
Cordelia smiles like the Cheshire Cat and makes a ‘go on’ gesture. “Don’t stop. It was just getting good.”
Riley’s smile evaporates and she self-consciously pulls away from me.
“So Cordelia,” I nod to Renthrow’s girlfriend, “word on the street is that you’re a mechanic too.”
“I am.” She studies me like I’m a puzzle piece. “Word on the street is that you’re single.”
I blink in shock.
Cordelia’s eyes swerve across the table as she adds loudly, “Riley.”
“What? Huh?” Riley jumps.
“If you’re interested, I’d love to set you up with someone. He’s handsome, rich and kind. And really into female mechanics.” Cordelia rests her chin on her hands and blinks innocently. “Would you like to meet him?”
Riley’s jaw drops.
Beneath the table, my hands clench into fists.
Say no, Riles.
I glance at Riley, who is blinking up a storm.
Say no.
As the silence stretches, I find myself getting more and more uncomfortable.
Note to self: I do not like the thought of Riley Carter dating other guys.