Chapter 15 #3
I nod, because I agree. It is bullshit. The stuff with Skyler James and their PR relationship happened so long ago that I don’t see why it matters to people now.
And while it’s not surprising that the public is chomping at the bit over finding out another celebrity might possibly be queer, it still pisses me off that they drew their own conclusions about her before she even had the chance to figure it out for herself.
“She’s stronger than she thinks, though,” Andrew continues. “I know she’ll get through this and be fine. She just needs to find her own way to do it. In the meantime, I’m glad she’s found you.”
It takes a second for that last statement to land, and then I scramble for a response that won’t give away anything she hasn’t already told him. “I, uh—I’m only keeping her company while she’s stuck here.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” He gives me a small smile that feels like he’s letting me in on a secret. “But I think your company is what’s helping her get unstuck.”
I have no idea what to say to that, so I’m thankful when a man announces into a megaphone that the contest is about to begin.
Andrew and I both turn our focus to Riley, who grins back at us.
The man goes over the simple rules, then blows a whistle, and faces immediately dive into the pies in front of them.
I’m not sure if I should be impressed or horrified with how quickly these people are gobbling up the food without the use of their hands.
Suddenly, blueberry filling is everywhere.
Their faces are stained with it—in the split-second glimpses I get whenever they come up for air.
And so much of the stuff is sliding down their chins and landing on the tablecloths that I’m not sure if it counts as cheating.
As they all eat, the majority of my focus stays on Riley.
Her pace isn’t quite as fast as some of the other participants.
Which I’m glad for, because they must be at risk of choking.
But she’s not being dainty about it either.
She gets through what looks like half of her first pie before she slows down, lifting her face and pausing to take a few breaths.
She’s a mess, covered in blueberry from her forehead to her neck, all the way down to her formerly white shirt.
And she’s smiling like this is the best day of her life.
The crowd is cheering for everyone, getting even louder as participants finish their first pies and start in on their second ones. Riley has definitely fallen way behind now, but she hasn’t given up.
Andrew laughs as he takes a few pictures of her, and I wish I could do the same, but I don’t know if that would seem weird.
Deciding I don’t care, I slide my phone out of my back pocket and take one photo, capturing her as she lifts up her face.
If that’s the only thing I’m left with after she leaves here, at least it will make me laugh.
That is, as long as her departure doesn’t wind up leaving me even more bitter than I was before she got here.
I can’t let that happen. That’s why I’m being careful not to get too attached to a woman who I already know is going to leave me.
Riley is still working on her first pie when an elderly man finishes his second and shouts, “Done!” People start clapping as a volunteer goes over to check before declaring him the winner.
The volume of the clapping increases, and the rest of the participants stop eating and begin to catch their breath.
I catch Riley’s eye, and she’s beaming proudly, even though she came so far from winning. Then she glances at the people on either side of her, faces covered in blue goo, and laughs. She must realize she looks just as ridiculous.
The volunteers untie everyone and pass out small hand towels.
I don’t even notice what prize the winner receives, because I can’t take my eyes off Riley as she runs right over to me.
Or, more accurately, to me and her brother.
But I’m the one she’s grinning at with those blue-stained lips and teeth.
“Oh my gosh, that was awesome,” she says before wiping her face with the towel. It seems like a useless endeavor. She’s going to be so sticky. And her face-painted flower is smeared beyond recognition.
“You only managed to eat half a pie,” Andrew tells her with a laugh.
She shrugs good-naturedly. “I didn’t want to make myself sick. It was still fun though.”
“It was definitely fun to watch,” I say. She’s still got some blueberry on the side of her neck, and the desire to swipe it up with my finger and taste it is so strong that I shove both of my hands into my back pockets to stop myself.
“You should’ve brought a change of clothes,” Andrew comments.
Riley laughs as she glances down at herself. “Yeah, I didn’t exactly plan for this.”
“I can bring you back to shower and get changed,” I offer quickly, without thinking.
Her eyes shoot to me, and I’m pretty sure she can read the ulterior motives right off my face. That I want to get rid of her dirty clothes and lick the sticky sweetness off her skin before letting her shower.
“My place is right across the street,” Andrew says. “She can grab a quick shower there if she wants.”
When Riley tears her gaze off me, I feel it like a physical thing, and I fight to remain still, to not force myself back into her sightline. “Actually, I like Addison’s idea,” she says. “We’ve been out here for a long time. I could use a break. And I’d like to be able to change into clean clothes.”
“All right.” Andrew shoots me a brief, unreadable look. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”
Riley follows me to my car, giggling quietly as she continues attempting to wipe herself off.
“You missed a spot,” I say without looking at her.
She laughs louder. “Oh, shut up.”
“Good thing you like blueberries, I guess.”
There’s a beat of silence, then she asks, “Do you like blueberries?”
I almost trip stepping off the curb. I consider telling her that once I get her alone, I’m going to show her exactly how much I like blueberries. How much I like her, covered in blueberries.
But I don’t know if that’s going too far. I don’t know if she accepted the offer to leave with me only because she simply does want to shower and get changed. So all I say is, “Mmhmm,” as I carefully perch her hat back on her head before we get in the car.
Buckling her seatbelt, she says, “I’ll try not to get anything messy.”
I turn to tell her I’m not that concerned about the car, and she’s just sitting there, somehow looking ridiculous, sweet, and hot all at the same time. And that’s when I lose the grip on my self-control.
Only sparing a cursory glance out the windshield and seeing no one around us, I lean over the console and reach for her, yanking her in closer. The hat gets knocked right off her head as I kiss her roughly.
My hand fists in her hair, bumping against where the scrunchie is holding it up.
She gasps in a breath when I release her mouth, the gasp turning into a perfect whine as I move with purpose down to her neck.
I lap at the sticky, sweet taste of blueberries on her skin, and when the taste fades, I start sucking on her neck, desperate for more.
“Addison,” she says, sounding breathless as she pushes at my shoulder. “We can’t—not here.”
Coming to my senses, I pull away. “Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” she says, squeezing my arm. “But can we get out of here, please?”
I nod, trying to fully clear my head as I start the car. “I can drop you off at the inn, or...”
“Or what?” she asks when I don’t finish.
“Or I could take you back to my place.”
Without missing a beat, she says, “Take me back to your place.”