Chapter 15 #2
Confused, she tips her head back again, feeling around his neck with her other hand.
Her fingers touch a loosely tied string around him with a small, velvet pouch attached to it.
She fumbles at it to untie the pouch, which is a little bit of a struggle with one hand, so she sits down on a patch of dried grass.
Crossing her ankles, she places Shaky in the space between her legs.
When she finally retrieves the pouch, she gives it a gentle squeeze. It’s not hard or heavy. Slipping both her index fingers past the elastic to peel it open, she reveals a folded up note, and the braided bracelet from the market.
Fucking Riley.
Her hands start trembling as she plucks the bracelet from the pouch, letting it dangle in front of her face. She stares at it as if it has personally offended her.
“I have questions, Shake,” she says dryly. She looks down at him, strokes his ears for a moment, and puts her finger under his chin to lift his little head up. Narrowing her eyes at him, she continues: “Where were you between the hours of one and three PM today?”
Shaky yawns.
“Pleading the fifth, I see,” she mutters. “Fine. Whatever. You want to call a lawyer, sir?”
“He already had me on speed dial, actually.”
Charlotte whips her head up and shrieks as she meets Riley’s gaze, casually leaning against a tree. She’s wearing her suit sans blazer.
“Riley,” Charlotte hears herself say, somehow both surprised and accusing.
Her brain is going so fast that it wouldn’t surprise her if there’s visible steam coming from her skull.
She should’ve expected Riley to find her eventually, except…
She would’ve wanted it to be on her own terms. Apparently, when it comes to Riley, it never is.
She always asks for what she wants and only ever gets what she needs.
Out of the hundreds of questions on the tip of her tongue, the one she settles on is: “How did you get him from my room?”
At least Riley has the decency to smile shyly. “Like I told you before; you’d be surprised what people are willing to do for you if you speak their language.”
Charlotte glowers at her. “Meaning?”
“Disculpe, perdí la llave de mi habitación. ?Tiene una de repuesto?” Riley says, pretending to hold her hand up for the room key, and Charlotte wants to kill her.
However, the initial feeling of aggression turns into something else quickly entirely.
A searing hot sensation creeps up from her neck towards the tips of her ears as she pictures Riley walking up to the hotel desk, charming someone into handing her a key, and entering her room to pick up her ferret.
She must have hidden him well to get him here, and above all: Shaky must have completely trusted her to let this all happen.
“I’m gonna have you arrested for breaking and entering,” she mumbles through the images taunting her mind.
“Entering, sure. But it was hardly breaking,” Riley counters, and she nods at Shaky. “It was a team effort.”
Charlotte exhales slowly, and Riley takes the silence as an invitation to approach her. “What’s this about, Riley?” she eventually asks.
Riley sits down in front of her, one leg tucked in and one knee up, and plucks a strand of grass from the ground to fidget with.
It shouldn’t be surprising to Charlotte when Riley gives her a boldly honest answer right away.
“I would like to know why you’re, respectfully, being a dramatic ass bitch.”
“Excuse me?” Charlotte screeches sharply, wrapping Shaky up in her arms in an attempt to ground herself.
Riley tilts her head, unimpressed. “Yeah, no. We’re not doing this,” she says, moving the strand of grass back and forth between the two of them, then tucking it between her teeth.
“I’m going to drop the act and I suggest you do the same.
” When Charlotte keeps glaring at her—a silent provocation—Riley continues: “I know that Lou and Gabi know about us. I knew since the first night, and I think you did too. It didn’t take a detective to come to that conclusion. ”
Charlotte clenches her jaw as the reminder of what her friends had apparently heard causes another flash of embarrassment. She almost feels the veins in her cheeks widen in real time as her skin colors pink.
“I'm also aware that you somehow picked up the idea that I’m not interested in you, which, by the way, goes wildly beyond my comprehension,” Riley calmly states.
“But as that has led you to give me the silent treatment, I figured I should be even clearer about why I’m not interested in anyone else.
” She visibly waits for an answer, but Charlotte’s inner security alarms start blaring when she realizes Riley has picked up on her Riley and Hannah-theory.
“You’re not exactly subtle,” Riley explains.
“So maybe I should tell you why I’m invested in this, right here. ”
Charlotte shrugs in ignorance. “I couldn’t possibly imagine why you’d be invested in this. You told me you wouldn’t date ‘baby gays’.” She spits out the last two words, making air quotes with one hand.
Riley seems unfazed; she must’ve come prepared for this. “I think I am just as invested in this as you are,” she says, her voice smooth like honey.
“Why would you think that I—”
“Would you be sulking for almost two days if you weren’t?”
“I’m not sulking.”
Riley puffs up her chest to fight back, but spots Shaky and decides in a split second to use the means available to her. “Shakespeare, can you call your mamá out on her behavior? She might take it from you.”
As if on cue, the ferret starts wriggling in Charlotte’s hold, making Riley laugh. Shit, there’s that sound again—that genuinely happy sound that makes its way through Charlotte’s ears to her brain, sinking down into her chest.
“Traitor,” she growls, but she isn’t sure if she’s addressing Riley or Shaky. Though she can’t help but acknowledge Riley’s courage and honesty, so she decides to get in tune with herself.
“What if I was? So what if I was sulking and so what if I was invested? You were very clear about your principles. You don’t want to date anyone who’s not an established lesbian.
Or actually, I believe I heard you say you don’t want to date at all.
There’s nothing for me to do other than accept that, is there? ”
“What?” Riley seems to be thrown off balance by the claim. “You heard me say that? When?”
“At the rehearsal dinner,” Charlotte says in a small voice. “I overheard you talking to someone.”
“You heard me… oh my god. Charlotte.” Riley shakes her head and presses her knuckles into her eyeballs.
“What?” Charlotte spits, not liking the feeling of being patronized.
“First of all,” Riley says, taking the chewed through piece of grass from her mouth and chucking it behind her.
She places her hands on her ankle and leans forward.
“If I can find the patience to let you come to terms with who you are, letting you fight against your own principles, I think you can cut me some slack when it comes to mine.”
When Charlotte looks at her disorientedly, Riley elaborates: “Of course I want to date. Of course I want to date you.”
“Wh— how could I have known?” Charlotte raises her voice to not let those words reach the innermost part of herself. “How was I supposed to know if you like spending time with me?”
Riley laughs again, raking a hand through her own hair and looking up for a moment. “This might be the gayest thing about you, I’ll give you that,” she snickers as her eyes land back on Charlotte’s, an adoring expression on her face.
“I fail to see how a conversation can be gayer than, you know, being inside another woman's vagina, but please explain,” Charlotte says, not sure if she’s offended, amused, or confused.
“The most lesbian thing about you isn’t my head between your legs, Charlotte. It’s the fact that I have been literally telling you how into you I am, for weeks, months—and here you are, asking me how you were supposed to know whether I even like you.”
“Everything you say is open to multiple interpretations,” Charlotte defends herself weakly. “I’m sure you haven’t literally told me—”
“Oh, I have. Literally. And I just did it again, so if you still feel the need to hide behind your fear of being rejected, I’m going to spray you with a water bottle until you can meet me somewhere in the middle of this conversation.”
“I’m not a cat.”
“So retract your claws and jump off the counter, please.”
Charlotte huffs, still not convinced of what Riley is trying to tell her. Her eyes drift down to Shaky, whom she catches chewing on one of the ends of the bracelet still clutched in her palm.
“Hey, that’s not food, Shake,” she berates him, pulling the string from his mouth and carefully putting it back in the pouch, which she drops in her lap.
“I’m scared too, you know,” she hears Riley say after a few beats, the sound of her voice much more intimate now.
“Because you liking me, choosing me… You can’t promise me that it’s not your body talking.
Who knows what happens when you get back home now that you’re free to explore all these new possibilities I introduced you to?
This has never been without risk for me, either. ”
Charlotte looks at her and blinks a few times. “But… you kept talking about me dating other women. You told me to get out there and basically offer myself up to the first available lesbian.”
Riley answers her with a lopsided smile. “Please try to remember whose thighs were wrapped around my head the other day,” she says jokingly, and yet her sultry voice does things to Charlotte’s insides.