Chapter 10
RILEY
Icould seriously knock that motherfucker's teeth down his throat. It's one thing to joke between us about shit. But in front of a girl I'm into? Not fuckin' cool.
After the loud, hot, stuffy atmosphere inside, it's blessedly cool and quiet back here in the alley.
I pace and try to calm myself down; I know he was just fucking around.
He didn't mean anything by it. And I've never been self-conscious about the fact that my relationships have never exactly lasted very long. Now, suddenly, I am.
Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why—Cadence.
She's the opposite of me in just about every way there is, but especially in that regard.
And I want her to like me. A good, innocent, believes-in-God and goes on mission trips kinda girl like her?
Doubtful she'll think it's cool that I've got more than a few notches on my bedpost, so to speak.
That's very metaphorical—which I hope is obvious.
I hear the door open, but don't turn to look. "Nyx, it's cool. I know—"
Soft, warm, small hands touch my back. "It is me, Riley. Cadence."
I turn, sighing. God, she's gorgeous. There's a stiff breeze swirling down the alley, fluttering her long, curly, loose hair around her face. Her green eyes are wide and search me, full of concern.
"Hey," I mutter. "I just need a second."
"Will you please help me understand why you are upset? He was teasing you, as you yourself were just explaining. Why does he think you are trying to fool me, and about what?"
My heart twists, plummets. "It's hard to explain."
She frowns. "You are not obligated to do so. I have no right to any explanations, certainly."
Fuck. "It's not that, I just…" I groan, raking my palm down my face. "It's actually not hard to explain, I just don't fucking want to."
She touches my chest. "Then do not. You owe me nothing. It is I who owes you."
"You don't owe me jack-shit." I exhale, scrubbing at my hair.
"Truth is, I'm just embarrassed. I…you're different from anyone I've met.
I don't usually care what people think about me, y'know?
My brother, my buddies, my other friends, they know me and they love me anyway, warts and all.
Not everyone knows the details of why I went to prison since I don't talk about it pretty much ever, but they know I did.
I care about their opinion, and everyone else can get fucked. "
I pause, shake my head. Start again.
"But you…?" I shrug, shake my head. "You're different. And I care about what you think."
"I hope it is obvious that I have a high opinion of you, then," I say.
“Yeah, and I don't want that to change."
"Why would it? Why would what Nyx said make me think less of you?"
"Because…" I groan, turn away from her so I don't have to watch her face turn to disgust. "Because what he said is true."
I feel her absorbing and processing this.
"I am not certain I understand what a man-whore is. A slut, so far as I am given to understand such colloquialisms, is a woman of loose morals—a woman who has had many sexual partners. This is different than a prostitute, however, in that a prostitute is paid for sex, whereas a slut does so out of personal interest.”
"Man-whore is the same thing as a slut, but for guys," I mumble.
"Oh. I see." A long silence. "So…he was teasing you about your sexual history, inferring that you are of loose morals."
I can't help a bitter cackle. "Loose morals. Yeah."
"And it is true? You have had a significant number of casual sexual encounters?"
I nod. "Pretty much. I…I was pretty bad about it in high school. Prison was obviously a nice, long dry spell. When I got out, I…I sort of set about trying to make up for lost time, y'know?"
"I am not certain I do."
"I hooked up a lot."
A long pause. "I see. And this hooking up…it was purely physical?"
I nod. "Yup." I turn to look at her, finally, and see only curiosity.
"Last few years, I've been actually sort of dating girls.
Like, trying to have something that resembles a meaningful relationship.
But it's…I'm not…" I cut off with another frustrated groan.
"I'm not cut out for that shit, Cadence.
Nothing sticks. Everyone is wrong one way or another, or it just doesn't work. "
I see her thinking and stay silent until she arrives at the question she wants to ask. "Are you manipulative? Are you using your partners?"
"No! No." I hate talking about this, but she deserves the truth. "It's always been purely consensual. I've always been clear about it bein' just a hookup."
She rubs her palms on her thighs repeatedly, looking away, thinking.
"I confess this is something I cannot fathom.
It is beyond my scope of understanding." She looks at me, then.
"But it is not my place to judge, nor am I interested in attempting to do so.
All I can think of in this case is that as long as the women you have been with did not leave the experience erroneously thinking you had sex with her out of love when you did not, I cannot see what harm has been done.
I do not understand how one can share one's body so casually, but that is merely my personal, subjective experience.
Yours is different and does not hinge upon my understanding. "
My head spins. "Jesus, woman. Where did you come from?"
"Chicago?" Her nose wrinkles adorably as she frowns in confusion.
I laugh. "No, I meant…" I cup her face. "You're just so…understanding and nonjudgmental."
"It is not for us to judge one another, Riley.
Why would I think less of you for having a different life experience than I?
You have shown understanding and patience with me.
How can I do less? I may not understand, but I do not need to, though I would like to and will try to.
" She caresses my cheek. "If anyone is judging you harshly for your past, Riley Crowe, it is you yourself.
Not your friends, not your brother, and not me. It is yourself you must convince."
Her empathy hits me like a goddamn freight train. My fucking eyes sting. "Dammit, Cadence."
"I…I am sorry?"
"No, no, no," I mutter, pulling her against my chest. "You just have this way of cutting straight to the heart of things. And you pull feelings outta me I didn't know I had."
"Nyx did not intend any harm," she says. "You should not be angry with him."
"I know. I'm not." I pull back and look at her. "I guess I just want to be the kinda guy you…" I trail off, finding it nearly impossible to say out loud. "Can be proud of." It's barely a whisper.
“That is…flattering, I suppose, is the only word that feels apropos.” She looks at me so tenderly it fucking hurts, like biting into something so sweet your teeth ache. "But Riley, perhaps you should focus instead on being someone you can be proud of."
Right to the gut, that comment. "Wisest person I know," I whisper. "Can I kiss you?"
"Oh," she breathes, "please?"
Feel like the luckiest motherfucker on the planet, then, when she looks at me like that, eager, eyes sparking with desire, excited, asking me to kiss her—it's all there on the surface, unhidden, exuberant.
She's just so…open. So vulnerable. So brave with her emotions.
You get used to people hedging their bets, pulling back behind a veil of indifference so they don't risk being hurt.
You get used to people playing it cool. Not her, not Cadence.
I slide my lips against hers and sigh in something like relief, something like happiness so deep it feels sharp and impossible.
And then she's melting against my body and her fingertips ghost along my cheekbones and her mouth opens and she invites my tongue into her mouth and gasps in delight when I give it to her.
"I could kiss you forever," I breathe.
She pulls away, and I feel a heaviness descend upon her. "Riley, if this fundraising event succeeds—"
"It will," I insist. "I have no doubt at all."
"Then in less than two weeks, I will be departing for Africa." She pauses, her gaze serious, concerned. "I have planned to be gone for up to six months."
I rock back on my heels. “Holy shit—six months? I was thinking a few weeks, maybe a month."
"No. In order to accomplish anything meaningful, I must have enough time to establish myself.” She searches me, worried.
"I had not considered that until earlier.
I…I have gotten caught up in…" she trails off, sighing, shaking her head.
"You. This. Coming to know you. And it seems I have neglected to factor in the reality that I will be leaving for a long time, very soon. And Three Rivers is…"
"Not home for you," I finish.
"Precisely." She looks upset, shaken, almost. "Riley, I care for you. More so than I could have ever imagined I could in so short a time. I worry that our parting will be the source of pain for us both."
"I care about you, too, Cadence." I search myself, and give her the truth. "Fact of the matter is, when you leave, it'll suck. I really, really fuckin' like you. If you lived here, I'd be beggin' you to give me a chance."
"A chance to what, Riley?” she asks.
The things I find myself explaining to this girl. Honestly, though, it forces me to look at myself and the things I take for granted. I've learned more from her in the two days I've known her than from anyone else in the rest of my life combined.
"Be with you. To date you."
She rocks back on her heels, eyes flying wide. "You…you would want that?”
I laugh in disbelief. “Want it? Babe, yes. With all my heart."
"With me?"
"Yeah, with you."
"But I'm—"
I cut in. "A legit fuckin' super-genius, wise, funny, fascinating, and beautiful. To name just a few of your qualities."
Her eyes go misty. "Riley, my goodness. I hardly know what to say. I…" She wipes at her eyes with her middle fingers. "If I had not spent months planning this trip, I might think about canceling or at least delaying it—"