Chapter 9
Charlotte needs the rest of the day to cool down, and to gather the courage to sit through another dinner with the four of them. Riley seems to be enjoying herself eliciting the most ridiculous eye rolls and annoyed huffs from Charlotte, much to Gabi and Lou’s entertainment.
“With all of the bickering between you two, this might as well be your wedding trip,” Lou remarks after Riley accidentally spills a bit of her drink down Charlotte’s shorts, earning herself an elbow to the ribs. Unrelatedly, that seems to be the exact moment Riley’s provocations lower in frequency.
When it’s time for all of them to go to bed, Riley waits for the perfect unguarded moment to blow her a sneaky kiss—getting rewarded with one final eye roll—and tells Charlotte she’ll pick her up tomorrow to talk about wedding preparations.
Still, Charlotte doesn’t expect the knock on her door the next morning, as she’d imagined Riley would try to find her outside later.
She unlocks the door and opens it about an inch, just enough to peer through the opening.
“Oh, hello there,” she says when her eyes meet those lively brown ones. She tries to maintain eye contact to pretend she doesn’t notice Riley’s abs on full display under her bikini top and a cropped button-up that she’s left to hang open.
Riley casually tips her chin forward. “What’s going on? Are you naked or are you hiding a wanted criminal in there?”
“If you wanna call him a wanted criminal, sure. He does look like one. I just let Shake out on the loose in here—”
“Shaky is here?” Riley’s eyes go wide.
“Well, yeah,” Charlotte says, slightly piqued. “He can’t really take care of himself at home, can he?”
“You took him on the plane?”
“No, he swam. His canoe broke,” Charlotte deadpans.
“Can I say hi? I missed him too! Can’t believe you didn’t tell me he is here.”
“Too?” Charlotte smirks. “I mean, you didn’t ask. And he has abandonment issues. But sure, if you two promise not to gang up on me again, come in.” She looks over her shoulder to gauge whether it’s safe to open the door wider.
“Uhm… Charlotte, wait,” Riley says, suspiciously shy. Charlotte looks back at her and is intrigued when she watches Riley nervously suck in her cheeks.
“I— I’d rather not come in,” she says, rubbing the sole of her shoe over an invisible stain in the carpet. “I don’t want to put myself in a room with a bed and you as the only other person in that room.”
Charlotte lifts an eyebrow, unsure if this is another flirtation attempt, or if Riley is genuinely concerned.
She doesn’t need very long to read the other woman’s body language. This is definitely a respectful way to keep them from crossing any boundaries.
She scolds herself for feeling the tiniest bit disappointed.
“Oh. Yeah, good call,” she nods. “Wait here.” She turns back around, scooping Shaky up from where he’s gnawing on one of her shoelaces, and carries him to the door.
“Shakespeare!” Riley calls out excitedly, but she’s immediately shushed by Charlotte.
“Keep it down,” she hisses while placing the wriggling ferret into Riley’s arms. “The hotel staff doesn’t know he’s here.”
Riley chuckles as she adjusts him in her grip, gently rubbing the spot between his ears.
“?Te acuerdas de mí? Soy la futura novia de tu mamá,” she coos with rapid tongue, a sly smirk on her face.
“What are you telling him? Unbelievable. Not even reunited for three seconds and you’re already planning to take over my reign.”
Pressing her mouth to one of his ears, Riley leans in and stage-whispers: “You’ve been such a good spy for me, Shakespeare. Y has cuidado muy bien de tu madre mientras yo estaba fuera.”
He gratefully starts chewing away at a loose strand of hair.
“Alright, I think that’s enough,” Charlotte says sternly, but she can’t hide an endeared smile. “When I wake up with him holding a gun to my head, I know who to blame.”
As she takes him back from the other woman’s arms, Riley asks: “Doesn’t he get hot in there? Does he have food?”
“No, I took bets on whether he will overheat or starve first.” Charlotte rolls her eyes.
“Obviously. I keep the A/C on all day, and he has more food and toys than he could ever dream of. I might occasionally even steal some chicken nuggets for him. Besides, he’s no stranger to screaming at me if he actually needs something.
But we appreciate your concern, don’t we Shake? ”
She lifts his paw and uses it to wave at Riley before returning him to the room. Next, she takes her phone, handbag, and keycard, and walks out into the hallway, closing the door with a soft click. As they walk down to the elevators, Riley shakes her head, smiling incredulously.
“I still can’t believe you brought him,” she snickers.
Charlotte scowls at her from the corner of her eye. “Are you laughing at me, Ri?” She shortens her name on purpose.
“I would never!” she replies, throwing her hands up in innocence. “No, I’m not laughing at you. I just can’t comprehend how adorable that is.”
“If you call me adorable one more time—”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Charlie. I’m talking about Shaky.”
“Sure you are.”
When they find a secluded spot on the outside deck of the bar to look at their to-do list, Charlotte is pleasantly surprised to see how much of it is already crossed off by Riley.
“Really?” she asks, eyebrows shooting up. “You’ve taken care of all the decorations already?”
Riley smirks as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course, darling. I knew you would hate it, so…”
Charlotte glares at her. “You’re lying.”
“Yeah, I am. The hotel staff is on it. You’d be surprised how much people are willing to provide if you speak their language.”
And Charlotte gets that. You could literally make me do anything after hearing you speak Spanish, she thinks.
What’s left to do is write speeches (for real this time), make a playlist for the band, and discuss the time table for the actual wedding.
Per the couple’s request they’d hired an actor to marry them—Lou and Gabi will officially elope one day after their return from Mexico—and so they will have to rehearse the ceremony when the fake officiant arrives on the day before the wedding.
Charlotte suggests she can coordinate the rehearsal, if Riley takes responsibility for wrangling the guests.
“Do you get them a wedding gift?” Riley asks her when they near the end of the list. “I know they said ‘presence over presents,’ but I'm sure they expect something from us.”
“Please,” Charlotte scoffs. “My gift is that I will try to keep my gagging to a minimum when they kiss. For 24 whole hours.”
In truth, she had commissioned an artist to draw up one of Gabi and Lou’s favorite photos. She has a large painted canvas of their portrait at home, which she will bring over to their house after the wedding. “What about you?”
“I rented a cabin in the woods for them, for a weekend in September,” Riley says proudly. “It’s super charming, it suits them. Wanna see?”
Charlotte nods and Riley whips out her phone. She pulls up photos of the cottage and hands it over.
Charlotte does indeed see the charm: lots of wood, candles and fairy lights, but also a set of large windows to really connect with the forest. There’s a clawfoot bathtub in what seems to be the middle of the living room.
“Romantic,” Charlotte quips.
“You sound surprised.”
“Yeah. No, I mean… I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Riley puts her hand on her chest, pretending to be hurt. “Ouch. Even after I told you what a hopeless romantic I am.” She takes her phone back and slides it in her pocket.
Charlotte really tries to stop herself from saying the words that are about to escape her, but fails. “I’ve yet to see proof of that,” she mumbles.
“Well, do you want to?” The way Riley crosses her legs and casually leans back in her chair completely parries any attempt to turn it into a joke, and Charlotte feels like she accidentally turned into a dead end.
She doesn’t know where to look and realizes she has to say something, but when she opens her mouth, only a few elongated vowels come out.
Watching Riley tap her fingers on the armrest with an amused grin, she figures the only way is through.
“I think my brain just short-circuited,” Charlotte snorts.
Riley nods slowly, her tongue sliding over her bottom lip. “If only there was a word for that feeling,” she wonders playfully. The sparkle in her eyes completely disintegrates any bones still left in Charlotte’s body. “Sounds familiar, right?”
“It does ring a bell,” Charlotte reluctantly agrees.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Riley kindly says, putting both legs back on the ground and leaning forward with her forearms on her knees. It gives Charlotte a perfect view of her cleavage—not that she’s looking.
“Gay panic makes you feel alive. You could choose to enjoy it.”
Riley maintains eye contact and tilts her head to the side: a question, or maybe a challenge. It makes Charlotte’s insides clench, which is kind of uncomfortable at first, but then she lets Riley’s words sink in. 'You could choose to enjoy it.'
So she makes the choice. And the clenching remains but the discomfort dissolves, leaving behind a tickling sensation that sends a giggle all the way up to her throat. She covers the lower half of her face before it comes out.
“Do you want it to stop?” Riley whispers. “Because I can make it stop.”
Charlotte shakes her head, because she really doesn’t, but she also needs to find a way to regain her control.
She keeps staring, just taking in the way Riley is looking at her, and she wonders what she can do to flip their positions.
The answer is right there: it’s in her micro-expressions, it’s in the way she forces herself to breathe slowly, it’s in the tension in her jaw, it’s in the wanting look in her eyes: Riley is just as down bad as she is.
And if there’s anything Charlotte is good at, it’s using information to her advantage.