Chapter 2
2
DO YOU ALWAYS FOLLOW THE RULES, PRINCESS?
W e step out of the restaurant and a gentle April breeze welcomes us. A nice change to the early summer heat that’s plagued the city lately in the middle of spring. I want to shed the jacket but I like the slight hugging comfort it provides. We walk side by side without exchanging a single word for a few moments, and with the wine swirling around in my brain it makes me blurt out the first thing that comes to mind to break the silence.
“So, Riley,” I begin, “I appreciate you making sure I make it through tonight to see another day and all, but do you not have someone at home waiting for you that might be a little upset that you’re seeing strange women to their doorstep at odd hours of the night?”
“If I did, then it’s a good thing I took on a new hobby of walking strange women home tonight. It probably wouldn’t end well if someone were there waiting for me since I live alone.” He lets out a slight chuckle at his attempt at a joke.
“Well I find that hard to believe.” I’m not sure what makes me so brazen but I continue on, “it’s not like you’re not attractive—so what is it? Are you secretly a serial killer masking as a knight in shining armor?” I turn to him with a grin and a suspicious squint of my eye, waiting for his response.
He raises his brow and smiles, glancing down to meet my eyes. “I’m slightly offended, but also flattered by the compliment.”
I can’t help the butterflies growing low in my belly from the way he looks at me, but he also didn’t answer my question.
“Slightly offended? As in, you’re like… only slightly a serial killer?” I challenge.
Riley doesn’t stifle the full-on belly laugh at my accusation.
I can sense that he is holding something back but I don’t let up my demand for an answer seeing as how we are four blocks from my home and I need to feel some sort of reassurance this isn’t going to be my last night on earth. “Well I’m glad you find this funny. I, too, like to laugh when others accuse me of being a homicidal maniac,” I say flatly.
I watch him as he stares forward. I can see in the way his jaw clenches that he doesn’t like where this conversation is going but I remain quiet. I am a patient woman. I will draw out this awkward silence until he has no choice but to break it.
We pass a total of five Victorian style homes in hues of maroon, chestnut, and dark green. Not something you see too often in center cities but since they were deemed historical landmarks of Old Charlotte, they remain untouched by new age shine.
I analyze all five as we walk by. Each one holding a little piece of history to the constantly changing city. I’ve always loved these houses, what they represented. As the city grew around them, their worth wasn’t held in how tall they stood or how shiny they were, but of the memories that were created in and around them throughout the years. That’s why I’ll always call this city my home. I love everything about it. You have an old time charm that compliments the new.
When I run out of houses to admire, I’m reminded of the prolonged silence with Riley. I can’t stand it anymore. I stop walking, cross my arms over my chest in impatience. “Are you really going to make me guess whether I just made the dumbest decision of my life by being alone with you or are you going to tell me that maybe I won’t die tonight?” I demand, throwing my hands in the air out of frustration.
Riley ceases his walking, turns to face me and sighs. Something sorrowful crosses his features. The sight of it tugs at my chest which is unnerving because I don’t even know him well enough to care. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, having this conversation with me, and for the life of me I can’t explain why that kind of hurts my heart a little more.
“I live alone because the person that used to live there with me for the last four years decided two weeks ago that she’d rather share a home with someone else,” he confesses blankly. Without leaving any time for my response, he continues, “I am not a serial killer, you’re not going to die, and if I’m being honest, there is just something about you that made this shitty week seem a little brighter.”
I feel like my jaw practically hits the ground at his frank admission. I’m torn between shock at his honesty and at how my ability to always push someone’s buttons never fails. Usually I don’t care, but this time feels different. I cross my arms again as if that’ll protect me from myself .
He must sense it too because he takes two steps toward me, with his thumb and index finger he lifts them to my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. I immediately feel that same chill run through me at his touch. I’m stunned into silence by his proximity.
Riley takes the smallest step and closes the gap between us, his torso pushing my arms tighter against my chest. He is so close that I can smell the hint of whisky left on his breath from earlier, and the smell is so intoxicating I can’t seem to form a single thought.
“First time at a loss for words, Princess?” he teases.
I see the side of his lip curve up, showing off that distracting dimple on the left side of his face and I know he can tell I’m affected by him. I still can’t bring myself to form a sentence. I can’t think past the way his unyielding grip holds my chin in place, angled purposefully to stare into those hypnotizing hazel eyes.
When I still don’t respond, “I didn’t tell you so you could pity my situation. Shit happens and I’ve accepted that. The relationship was over long before two weeks ago. I told you so you know you aren’t in danger and can find some comfort in knowing I’m not just some creep that goes around finding damsels in distress to save from disastrous dates. I promise that you’re safe with me,” he finishes as he withdraws his grip and takes a step back.
The absence of his touch leaves me feeling a little unsteady. I take in a gulp of fresh air, free of his intoxicating cedarwood with a hint of whisky scent. I exhale and feel like I’m finally able to conjure a thought. I straighten my back and clear my throat, offering him the only words I’m able to manage, “I’m sorry to hear about your ex.”
“Don’t be.” He seems hesitant to continue, but after a moment he explains, “I’ve spent enough time the last two weeks avoiding going into detail when my parents would ask ‘what happened?’ I’ve contained my frustrations when they suggest I ‘try to fix things with her’ as if she is the wronged party. I swear my family sometimes wishes she was born their daughter but accepted the title daughter in law would be the next best thing.”
Riley’s thumb presses into the crease between his brow in frustration, but then after a moment his features soften.
I step towards him, wrapping my arms around his torso and his body stiffens against me. I’m not sure if this is an appropriate response but it just felt right so I went with it. I smile against his chest when I feel his body relax and his arms embrace me in return. We stand that way for a few quiet moments before I look up and I find him staring down at me with a serene smile.
“Now that we got that out of the way, shall we continue, Princess?” Riley asks with a half grin, trying to change the mood.
“Yes.”
I take a few steps forward then pause, “and please stop calling me princess.” I ask over my shoulder with a scrunched nose.
“Do you have something against nicknames?” His eyebrows raise in confusion. Jogging the few feet between us to catch up to me.
“Cute pet names , ” I correct with annoyance, “can be so degrading for a woman don’t you think? How often would you talk to a guy and finish off with one? For example,” I bend my right arm pretending to jab the ribs of a fictitious male body and with a masculine voice I mock “ Wanna grab beers after work, cupcake ?” He looks at me and grins at my horrible attempt at sounding like a man.
“How do you think a man would like it if that’s what they heard every day?” I question.
“Well to start, I called you a Princess, which is a Royal. What you chose was a mediocre dessert option at best. They’re very different things.”
“They are not mediocre!” I gasp in shock.
Riley lets out a low belly laugh at the direction this debate has taken. He takes a finger to the back of his ear and leans in towards me as if he’s straining to hear, “what I’m hearing is that you’d rather me call you cupcake instead. Got it.” He deadpans.
I let out a stubborn huff, “That is not what I meant! I just think…” I cut myself off. Frustrated about arguing over something so trivial. “You know what? Never mind.” I say, continuing to walk down the sidewalk.
Seeming pleased with himself at being able to rile me up, he keeps pace next to me with his chin proudly lifted in the air. I can sense the aroma of satisfaction spilling from his every pore and I roll my eyes.
“Tell me something,” Riley asks. “You’re not so bad looking yourself. What’s with the blind date?”
My cheeks flush. “My best friend Sam is convinced I’m going to die alone, so she’s taken it upon herself to prevent that from happening,” I answer honestly.
“I see… and do you prefer to be alone?”
“Hmm,” I’m not sure how to answer, it’s the first time anyone’s cared to ask. “I don’t know if I would say prefer, but compared to the alternative, I find it to be the better option so far.”
“And what exactly is the alternative? In your experience?” he asks.
“The most recent? Let’s see, being made to feel that being worthy of someone’s love meant one had to be smaller. And that one is always me.” I contemplate on how to explain further. “Like, I needed to be successful and driven so he could be proud to show me off but not more successful than him so I don’t emasculate him. Placing a ceiling on your life so that the other doesn’t feel inferior seems like a much less appealing alternative to being alone doesn’t it? And he didn’t even know that… nevermind. What I mean is, I don’t want to live my life in a box that someone makes for me.”
“He’s a pathetic cow.” Riley comments dryly.
I stop in my tracks again and double over with mirth. I halt my wheezing as soon as I look up at him when I come up for air. The way he looks at me causes my heart to squeeze and my breath to catch.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” I wipe at my face in an attempt to brush off any possible remaining crumbs from dinner.
“I like when you smile. A real one. Not a fake one.”
“How do you know my fake smile versus my real one?” I challenge him, placing my hands on my hips.
“When you really smile, the corner of your eyes squints slightly when your smile reaches them, unlike the way it remains untouched and smooth when you’re forced to react to something that called for a smile but you didn’t really find funny. I saw it when you forced every emotion during your date while trying to be polite.”
I lower my hands and stand straight again. I don’t know what to say to that. Between his blatant honesty and his keen observation of me, it takes everything I have to stay upright and not go weak in the knees for him.
I clear my throat, smooth out nonexistent wrinkles from the front of my jacket, and try to bring this conversation back to a topic I can handle without muddling my brain.
“Well, then. I don’t know what to say to that but as far as my ex, yes, a pathetic cow. Not a term I’ve used to describe him before, but I like it so much better than asshole. Much more creative.”
I gesture towards the other side of the street to steer him to cross. Riley doesn’t bother waiting for the crosswalk light even though there are less cars passing by this late on a weekday. He doesn’t realize he isn’t being followed until he turns around and sees me still standing at the opposite corner. “Are you seriously waiting for the light to turn?”
“It’s the law.” I state.
As if he had a shortage of knowledge on what was the law.
Riley stands there in disbelief. “Do you always follow the rules, Princess?”
We have a stare off across the street from one another. Me, standing my ground with my arms crossed in defiance. Riley, tapping his foot in amusement at my stubbornness.
“Man, glad you didn’t cross the street, wouldn’t want you to slip up while dodging all of these cars,” he says sarcastically while looking left and right at the empty street with his hands up in defense. “Not even sure how I made it over here unscathed.”
“Ha ha,” I bellow from my side of the street. “You’re so funny! Watch, with my luck it would be the moment I step off this curb a car comes flying out of nowhere.”
“You know the light doesn’t actually stop a car right? They could run a red light just as easily as you could walk without the green sign.”
“Both could lead to terrible deaths! Or tickets at the least!” I say curtly.
The walk signal finally turns green and I cross to reach him.
“Why did the princess cross the road?” he jokes. I lightly punch him in the arm. “Just so you know, if you had followed me across the street and somehow got a ticket from an officer nowhere in sight, I would’ve gone to court for you. Pro bono too!”
“You’re so kind,” I clasp my hands together and bring them to my chest showing an exaggerated sense of gratitude.
Riley laughs at my reaction. He seems to enjoy me playing the damsel in distress, but also looks at me as if he wants to say something else.
“Just spit it out.” I demand.
“Nothing.” He looks me up and down, accessing me. Like I’m a puzzle to figure out or a meal to be eaten. Either way, the way he looks at me stirs up feelings I don’t want or need.
I lower my hands from my chest, feeling a bit exposed under his surveying gaze and tilt my head towards the opposite direction we came to suggest we continue walking. We carry on in comfortable silence for the next block, both just enjoying the quiet the night provides. I can’t remember the last time I just allowed myself to be in someone else’s presence without the need to fill the space with meaningless conversations. Although my sense of ease next to this man is unexplainable, it also gives me a sense of comfort.
We reach the next intersection and if we continue straight, my building would be across the next street. If we take a right… and the thought takes over. “Would you like to take a detour and visit my favorite place in the city?” I ask hesitantly. Fearing the possibility that he will say no. Even though he said he doesn’t have anyone waiting for him at home doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to get back there sooner than later.
Riley looks at me, amusement plastered on his face, “I would love to.”
We turn right at the intersection and pass a few unlit shops, all closed for the evening. Without the help of the street lamps that are far and few in between above us, the sidewalk would feel like a dangerously dark alley, had either of us been walking alone. Riley doesn’t ask any questions, he just follows me as I guide us to my favorite place.
The only noise is the sounds of nocturnal insects chirping accompanied by my heels clicking against the stone. Suddenly, my ankle rolls out from under me, the jerk of the movement lurching me forward too quickly before I can try to catch myself. Right before I’m going to go face first into the concrete, I feel an arm quickly wrap around my waist and the next second all I can feel is my backside being held tightly against Riley’s torso. His very sculpted torso. Our breathing is hard as a result of his cat-like reflexes and my onset panic.
I can feel his breath at my ear, the pace of each inhale and exhale acute with the rise and fall of his chest against me and I’m grateful for his hold on me. I’m not so sure that my knees would be able to hold me steady without it.
“Are you ok?” Riley asks in a hushed tone.
Reeling myself back to reality, I nod. He slides his arm from my waist to my hip, turning me around to face him, “You sure?” he asks again, needing a verbal confirmation.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, my heel must’ve stepped into the crack of the sidewalk,” I explain. Heat rising to my cheeks with embarrassment.
Riley keeps his tight grip on me in case I need help with my balance. “Here, sit down for a second.”
He guides me to a nearby metal bench. I sit down, surprised by the feel of metal against the back of my thighs. It takes my skin a few seconds to adjust to the cold. I figured it would’ve been warm to the touch with the weather lately. Once I’m fully seated, I reach to examine the damage to my shoes.
Riley kneels in front of me and grabs my ankle before I can.
“You don’t have to, I’m fine,” I insist while trying to push his hands away.
“Stop being so stubborn.” he demands, “if you have to wear these heels the whole night, the least I can do is make sure they won’t be the death of you.” Riley offers me a sinister grin that makes my heart thud like an atomic bomb is going off in my chest, “and I don’t often get down on my knees for just anyone. I suggest you let me.” I suck in a breath and remain quiet. He unfastens the strap at my ankle and slides my shoe off. One hand is wrapped around my ankle and the other palm flat against the sole of my foot.
With his palm, he pushes toward me and angles side to side to see if it causes any pain. When I don’t flinch at any of the movements, his eyes travel upwards to inspect my face. An attempt to see if I am merely trying to not be bothersome to his aid or if I truly am fine.
When he looks up at me, I’m not sure what he sees since the only illumination around us is a dim street light. But the look in his eyes fascinates me. There is an underlying hunger swirling and I find myself wanting to get lost in them. He looks at me as if I’m the most beautiful person.
I wait for him to release me after his examination so I can put my shoe back on. When he doesn’t show any signs of letting go, I clear my throat in an attempt to break his focus on me. Riley’s eyes flutter like he’s breaking out of a trance. He grabs my shoe to slide it back on but I take it from him.
“Really, I’m fine. You don’t have to make sure I’m not injured and redress me.” I make quick work of the strap, lifting my foot in the air to make a few circles making sure that there really aren’t any injuries caused by my stumble.
Once I’m certain I’m not hurt, I stand up. “Alright, now that the show is over, let’s go!” I say enthusiastically and continue the path we were on prior, leaving Riley still kneeling in concern behind me.
He grabs the front of the bench to hoist himself up, brushes off the debris from his slacks, and takes the five long strides to catch up to me.
My hand glides along a wall covered by lush greenery to find my perfectly hidden secret. He stops when he hears a click of metal and part of the wall creak open. He glances down at me and sees the corner of my lip turn up into a mischievous grin.
I hold the door to the opening wide enough and gesture for him to walk through. It’s like a portal to a different world and the feeling never really goes away. On one side of the wall, a city of glass and metal, on the other, an Eden of greenery and natural life.
I close the door behind us and walk forward guiding him towards the center of the oasis. He looks around trying to take in the abundance of florals and shrubbery. I remain quiet allowing him to soak it in.