Chapter 26
Riley
The most interesting thing to me about this whole fuck buddies situationship with Dom is that I don’t even have his phone number. I actually don’t know that it’s a fuck buddies situationship. Maybe it was for like two days, and now I’m out of his system, and he can go find a more collected woman.
A more mature one.
One who wouldn’t be falling in love with this man after a few weeks. Or worse, already in love.
I’m in so much trouble.
I get out of my Jeep and head to the market to drop off more eggs and honey. Lilly has given me this task as my responsibility, and I love it. It’s such a small task in the grand scheme of things, but it makes me feel valuable, like I’m not disposable, like I’m actually useful.
Wanted.
Needed.
I pull the door open with my foot, struggling to see past the tower of egg cartons I’m holding.
“Hiii, Ms. Debbie!” I shout, walking up to the counter and placing the eggs on it.
Except it’s not Ms. Debbie behind it—it’s black and white hair, split in the middle, pulled back in a loose braid with eyes that mimic the sky on a sad, stormy day. “Saylor.”
Her eyes snap open wide. “I heard rumors you were back, but I refused to believe them, considering I haven’t heard a peep from you about it.”
I’m taken aback by her words, Saylor was always shy and kind of struggled to speak her mind, but I guess maturing made her blunt and to the point, because she’s right.
The Riley of almost four years ago, the one who left without saying a word, the one who didn’t look back when her best friend asked her to stay, and the one who avoided every single uncomfortable situation wants to flee the scene.
She wants to tell Saylor she’s been busy and there was no ill intent.
But this Riley, today’s Riley, the one who wants to do better, be better, knows if I want to repair this relationship, I need to be upfront with my feelings. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. Life happens, right?” The venom in her words is thick, and I don’t blame her. I can’t. Those are the exact same words I told her so many years ago. Life happens.
“No, I mean it. For everything.”
“Riley, now is not the time,” she says, turning around and pretending she’s organizing things on the shelf.
“Can we talk? Please?”
I hate how it feels when I have to beg people. All I seem to be doing for years and years is the same: beg people to take me seriously, beg people to spend time with me, beg people to want me. To want me.
Saylor did. She was the best friend and rival I could’ve ever wanted.
We trained together hard, we pushed each other to the max, and we competed against each other barrel racing with our heads held high.
She was so much better than I was, and I always saw that as a push to be better, to make it to my next goal.
If Saylor could do it, so could I. She was so inspirational.
And then, I had a chance to help her make it to the next step, and I blew it by not minding my own business and by going behind her back.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
I didn’t come here to do this today. I didn’t think I was going to run into her and have to face my actions, or lack thereof. I do want her to know, though, that I didn’t mean to ruin her life and that I do value not only her friendship, but her as a person. I jot down my number on a sticky note.
“If you change your mind. Text me, call me, whatever. You know where to find me.” I slide the note into the back pocket of her overalls and head back to the ranch, but not without my mind spiraling about a million usual things plus Saylor.
"Knock, knock,” I say, pretending to knock on a nonexistent door to Lilly’s office. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, not one single hair out of line, but she’s not frowning— totally the opposite, actually. She’s smiling.
“Did you get laid?” I ask. Fuck my whole life. Why can’t I keep my inside thoughts inside?
“Riley!” she shouts, biting back a laugh. Okay, that’s better than her screaming at me or giving me the silent treatment. “No, I haven’t—not that it’s any of your business.”
“Well, sis, maybe you should.” I take the seat in front of her, considering letting my feet rest on her desk, but I choose not to so I don’t piss her off.
Lilly lets out a sigh. I can’t tell if it’s resignation or exasperation. “When would I have time to get laid? I’m always here.”
I don’t have to get a mirror to know I look completely flabbergasted. She’s actually sharing a part of her life with me. “Let’s make the time!”
“I don’t need to get laid.”
I laugh. She doesn’t. Oh shit, okay, not a joke, got it. I clear my throat before adding, “Sis, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you might. It will help you with your mood.”
“I don’t have a mood, and I can take care of myself with my own two hands.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and it might as well be a barrier between us.
No, no, no, Riley. This was going well. Come on, back it up. Get back on track.
“Pop off, queen! We love a self-care aware, independent woman.” She smiles.
Okay, okay, back on track. “And maybe it’s not that you need a man…
or a woman…” I trail off. She had a boyfriend for a really long time; we all loved him, even if we didn’t see how goody two-shoes ended up with the town’s bad boy.
Except they broke up forever ago, and I’ve never seen her with anyone else.
“Maybe you just need to take your mind off work for a bit.”
“Men, to answer your unasked question, and when do you recommend I do that? In between trying to revive the dead garden, running this place, the camp, the social media, I barely have any time to live, let alone go out or whatever.”
“I can see that, but also, if you don’t take care of yourself, who will?”
She considers my question before busying herself with papers spread all over the desk. “I’m supposed to be the voice of reason here, Riles.” She’s deflecting, and I hate that.
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Lils.” I lean forward and hold her hand. “I know it’s hard for you to delegate. I get it, but you need to. You need to find time for yourself too.”
She swallows hard, unable to meet my eyes in order to say whatever she’s thinking.
I know it’s hard for her. I’ve always just assumed she was an uptight bitch, but the older I’ve gotten, the more I realize she not only had to step up and run a whole business at just shy of twenty-two, but she also had to help raise two broken-hearted, grief-filled teenagers, with the pressure of holding a legacy on her shoulders too.
She’s not the only one with things to lose, but I know she’d be the one to take the blame.
Her beautiful blues finally meet mine, and it’s like seeing the reflection of a clear sky on the sea. “I know. But there’s always so much to do.”
“Let me help. I’m sure Willa can help too. I promise you if you call her, she’ll come. She’s off school either way, no? We can take some of the load.”
She nods.
“You gave me tasks, and I did them right, correct? Give me more.”
She takes a seat on her rolling chair. “But then what am I going to do when, in a couple weeks, you decide to leave?”
I won’t, I want to say. I’m here for the long run, I want to add.
But am I? What would I even do? Now it’s fine because there are fun things to do and summer is my favorite, plus the cowboy next door keeping me entertained after hours, but what could I do after?
I don’t want to be bored and feel useless again. That’s the worst feeling.
“I won’t. I promise you, I’ll be here til the end of summer at the very least. So delegate something to me.” I can compromise that until I can figure out something else, right?
“You, Riley Banks, will be staying put in the same place all summer?”
I cross my index and middle fingers and bring them to my lips, kiss them, and drop them to my chest, drawing an X over my heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
She breathes out. “Okay then. I can work with that. Do you have anything in mind?”
I didn’t think this through this far out. “Anything. Hit me with it.”
“I’m gonna suggest something, but if it’s too much responsibility, let me know.”
“I can handle it.”
She cocks her head to the side.
“I can!”
“I need someone to run the activities for the camp. The schedule you made was incredible, and after I posted it on our website, we’ve gotten our enrollment up by thirty percent.
People keep referring to it and some video online; I think they might be mistaken, since I haven’t posted anything in that area. ”
“About that…”
“What?” she asks, eyebrows shooting up.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and scroll to the page I created on social media for the camp. The truth is, it has gotten way more attention than I thought, and I don’t even have videos or anything from the past couple of years.
Is she in shock? I’m not sure what this expression is. Is she mad? Is she happy? Surprised? “Say something.”
“Riley…this is…”
Oh, she hates it. “Stupid? I can stop. I figured it wouldn’t hurt, but if it doesn’t fit the vibes you have fo—”
“Perfect. It’s perfect.”
I could keep giving her things I can do—wait? Did she say perfect? “Wait, really?”
“Really. This is wild. So this is what’s driving people to it?”
I shrug. “Maybe, but it’s what we have to offer that keeps them enrolling their kids. Team effort and all.” Putting that communications degree to good use, I guess.
We stand in silence, just smiling at each other. This is the type of silence I’ve never had near Lilly. I usually feel judged or like I’m annoying her, but I’ve come to realize it has little to do with that and a lot to do with how I’m interpreting her actions. I need to stop doing that.
“I can keep going if that helps. I’m hoping once camp starts, I’ll be able to get more footage and increase attendance week by week.”
She nods. “Would you consider maybe not being a counselor?”
“No! I can do both! And run the activities. I’ll be fine.”