Chapter 23
Riley
I nearly squealed in delight when Sage shot me a text message late yesterday evening asking if I was available to work at the store today. She had an appointment she forgot about, and she had to leave town early and couldn't open the store on time. I jumped on it immediately, and it had more to do with getting out of my own house and avoiding Mac than the need for income.
I realize how crazy it is to not want to be home because someone else was staying there, but I also know I can't just ask the man to leave, not after seeing the destruction in his kitchen yesterday.
Damn. I don't even want to think about yesterday. Not the sex, not the shower, not the aftermath.
I know I acted like a child, ignoring him and pretending he didn't exist, but there was no way for my brain to work through what he said. He claimed I was like an addiction for him, and it didn't sound like he was very happy about it at all, so there's only one way to break such a bad habit for someone, and that's to not give them what they crave, no matter how much I crave him as well.
This has gotten way too complicated when all it was supposed to be was a quick romp after a very bad day, but the soup getting thrown in my face, which put me at the bar that night, seems like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since then, enough so that it has distracted me from my own goals in life because I've been infatuated and overrun by thoughts of him.
Maybe he's the strong one for being able to make that confession. Maybe it's my own guilt for feeling the same way and wanting to feed that habit rather than thinking it should be avoided.
Whichever it is, it opened my eyes to the fact that what we're doing may be fun while it lasts, but it could very easily be detrimental to our lives as well. We both have big goals in life, and getting distracted by each other is the last thing we need right now.
"I gave you a twenty. "
"Hmm?" I say with a forced smile.
"This is the change for a ten," the woman at the counter says. "I gave you a twenty-dollar bill."
"My gosh. I'm so sorry," I say, hitting the button on the cash register to open it back up to pull out the rest of her money. "There you go."
She gives me a weak smile before snatching her bag off the counter as if I was intentionally trying to rip her off.
I swear, if the door didn't have a slow-close feature on it, I'm certain she would've slammed it on her way out of the store.
"I hate out-of-town people," Mrs. Shears says as she steps up to the counter, placing a magazine and the new release of a very steamy romance series in front of me.
"I made a mistake," I say. "Will this be it?"
She gives me a halfhearted smile before nodding, and I can tell she isn't happy that I won't stand here and gossip about others.
"So," she says, switching gears as she leans on the counter, bringing her face closer to mine like you would when confiding in someone or getting ready to spill some secrets. "You and Mac Hammer, huh?"
"Twenty-three-eighty-four," I tell her. "Would you like to add a reusable bag for only a dollar more?"
"No thank you, dear," she says as she pulls out her checkbook before changing her mind when she looks down at the items. "Better yet, I'll pay cash."
She hands over a twenty and a five, and I make sure to give her the proper change. "Your receipt?"
"Burn it," she says before scooping her items off the counter, shoving the book in her purse, and carrying the magazine out in her hands.
I have no idea why some of the women in town are so concerned about people judging them for what they're reading when most of them are the first ones to gossip about what other people are doing.
I like Rebecca Shears. She's Kalen Alexander's mom and one of the more important women in town, but she is as big a gossip as Mrs. Easter is. I swear the older women in town get together once a week just to compare notes on gossip and the happenings in town.
With the store empty of customers, I work on a new display for the upcoming week which will see an influx of college students looking for the textbooks the campus store doesn't have in stock.
Hours go by with only a trickle of customers, several just coming in to look without making a purchase, and I don't understand people like that. I always feel like a criminal when I walk into some place and walk out empty-handed. Maybe that's why I'm broke all the time. I should just stay home rather than letting guilt make me spend money on things I don't even want.
"That sigh sounds like you've had a bad day."
I turn to face Sage, attempting a smile but failing.
"That bad?" she asks, her nose scrunched up.
"I gave a woman the wrong change," I confess. "I was distracted. I don't doubt she'll leave a review online saying I was trying to rob her."
Sage shrugs. "Mistakes happen. Wanna talk about why you're so distracted?"
I search her eyes, noticing the way her cheek twitches as she rolls her lips and clamps them between her teeth to keep from smiling.
"Not you, too," I mutter.
"I'm not the one who posted about it in the Lindell community group on social media," Sage says as she follows me through the store. "But I'm your closest friend, so I know for a fact, you aren't having any work done on your house."
"He's—"
"He's what?" she asks, sounding fully invested. "He was rude to you, but then you two hooked up again. He put a hickey on your neck, and now he's at your house every night?"
"He's living there," I blurt.
"How in the world did he move in with you, and I didn't know about it? Riley? When did things get so serious between you two?"
I shake my head, emotion threatening to bubble up from my throat.
"We aren't serious."
"Living together is serious. Is he telling you it isn't? But also, why not live at his house? No offense, but it's so much bigger than yours. I've heard stories about his kitchen."
"I practically burned his house down."
"I heard about a fire," she says. "You started the fire?"
"We got... distracted and the fire started."
Her cheek twitches.
"None of that," I say, pointing at her face. "He's not living with me in that way. It's more like he needs a place to stay while he works on fixing his house."
"So you haven't hooked up since he's been at your place?"
I turn away from her, grinning, when her laughter tickles my back.
I spin back around to face her. "Of all people, I can't believe you're the one giving me the most hell about this! "
She holds her hands up at her ears. "I'm not making fun of you. The guy is smoking hot."
"That's part of the problem," I mutter.
Her eyes narrow. "Nope. We're not doing that shit."
The anger in her voice freezes me in place.
"You're worthy of any man you set your sights on, and I won't have you getting lost in your head thinking you're not worthy. You're smoking hot, and Mac sees that."
I swallow as I think about all the things he has said. I've always been a sure thing with him, from that first night at the bar and up to and including the way I ran my hand down his rock-hard stomach and gripped his cock yesterday in the shower. He has never had to placate me with kind words to get me to want to hook up with him.
I tilt my head, really considering her words. He's called me beautiful and praised my body, and there hasn't been a single time he's looked at my bare skin when I've caught him with nothing other than desire in his eyes.
"He said I'm an addiction," I confess. "And not in a good way."
"The man is fighting his own issues, but don't let his shit turn into your problems. If you're having fun with him, then have fun. He's a grown man and makes his own decisions. There's no reason not to enjoy life when you get the chance, Riley."
"And when it ends?"
She gives me a sad smile. "Then, at least, you'll have the memories. I think living life to its fullest is always best. Don't miss out just because you think you'll be hurt in the end."
"When will you start taking your own advice?" I ask, needing some of the attention off of me right now because I'm feeling more than a little vulnerable.
"Those who can't do, teach," she says with a shrug before walking away.
I pull in a deep breath, but the reprieve only lasts for a few seconds before she spins back around to face me.
"How about a drink after work?"
I open my mouth to reject the offer, like I normally would, but agree with a smile instead.
The day seems to start getting better until I get a deposit notification and notes about what Mac expects me to make for dinner. The man will be lucky if I don't poison him the next time he eats something I cook.