Chapter 29 Riley
TWENTY-NINE
RILEY
After August and I say our goodbyes to his parents, we stand outside the house.
The bright sky hangs above us, birds chirping as they fly by.
The leaves on all the trees sway with the warm wind.
August moves back and forth on his feet as he tips his head back with his eyes closed. He exhales a breath.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
His head tilts back down, and his ocean eyes are bright and beautiful versus the sadness they’d shown earlier at my apartment.
"I'm not sure." He stuffs his hands into his jean pockets and looks down at the red brick under our feet while we stand on the driveway.
I don't push him. I know how it feels for people to pry into your business and ask questions about your feelings and how you're handling things.
"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced at your place,” he says. “It wasn't right of me to do that on top of dragging you to come with me here."
I cross my arms tight, snuggling into myself. My short hair blows with the breeze that passes us.
"You didn’t drag me. I dragged you." I huff out a laugh.
"Maybe coming over to your place was a one-time thing, but would you mind if I go back with you?" He adjusts his glasses, and I can see the indent on his nose for a second before he puts them back on.
"You want to come back to my place?"
"I know. It's a weird fucking question, but this day has been weird and draining.
I don't want to go to Ellie's place because I'm sure she's still wound up after she left.
James, Rowan, and Beau are at work, and I don't want to be alone with my thoughts.
" He looks away, the sun shining down on him, and mutters a curse word under his breath.
I bite my lip while I think about this. My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans. When I grab it, a text from Mom flashes on the screen. A shudder runs down my spine.
I push out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, just one second. It’s my mom.”
“No worries.” He leans against the garage door and crosses his arms.
Mom: What are you doing today? I have some things to talk to you about. You and your sister both need to see me. We’ll go to lunch.
Me: I'm busy today.
Mom: Well, drop what you're doing and make room in your busy schedule for your mother.
Mom: You've been ignoring my calls and texts.
Mom: How do you think that makes me feel? My own daughter is ignoring me.
She keeps blowing up my phone while I stare at the screen. On and on. Text after text. This overwhelming feeling of stress hits me within five seconds. Guilt ripples through me for wanting to not see her.
“Sorry,” I say, turning to August, but my phone vibrates again.
Hailey: Mom needs to chill the fuck out.
“Hailey just texted me. I guess my mom is bugging her too,” I murmur.
“And you’re surprised by that?” August chuckles.
Me: Are you answering her?
Hailey: Fuck no.
Hailey: If she keeps this up, I'm going to block her.
Me: That's a ballsy move on your end.
Hailey: I'm surprised you haven't blocked her first.
I've set boundaries that work half the time, but I can never actually cut her off. A part of me still cares about her despite what we've gone through growing up. I wouldn't call it Stockholm syndrome, but I also don’t know why I expect more from her when she keeps letting me down.
"You can come over," I say to August.
His eyebrows lift. "Really? You don't mind?"
"I don't mind."
He puts his hands together in front of him like he's praying. "Thank you. I promise, I'll give you your space. I'll just hang in the living room, and you can pretend I'm not there."
I roll my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. Let's go."
Soft bedroom-pop music plays in the background of my living room. August and I came back with growling stomachs and realized we hadn't eaten anything today.
I decided to make a simple dish. Macaroni and cheese. Blue box style.
“What’s going on with the bakery? Where are you guys at with it?” He shoves a spoonful of mac in his mouth.
“The rest of the kitchen equipment is being delivered this week. You know, if the place were previously a food place, we’d save more money by already having a kitchen.”
“You really think Ellie would take what was already there and not buy new equipment?” He cocks an eyebrow.
I snort with a mouthful of my food and shake my head. “Yeah, I should’ve known better than that.”
“So, you’re already doing the numbers?”
“I’ve been doing that since we bought the place. I just don’t talk about it because to other people it’s boring.”
“I don’t think it’s boring.”
Deadpanning, I say, “You hate math.”
“Yeah, but not when you talk about it.”
“You wanna hear about bookkeeping, cash flow, and budgeting? That’s not even half of what I’ll be handling. Do you find tax filing sexy?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Because in that case, I can show you.”
“If you wanna win my heart over, then yes, I’d love to hear about your tax filing.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
August picks at the last of his food in his bowl. “I forget how delicious simple mac and cheese can be.”
He's sitting next to me, my back pressed against the couch's armrest, my legs crossed. I set my finished bowl down on the coffee table and place my hands in my lap.
"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "loading up mac and cheese with chicken or truffles is great, but this." He points to his empty bowl with his fork. "Incredible. Chefs kiss."
I laugh. "It's just mac and cheese."
He sits back, the cushion giving way to his bulky frame, and exhales, patting his stomach. I forget he and Ellie do the same stomach patting thing after they eat. It's kind of adorable.
“Thanks again for coming with me to see my parents. I know you didn't have to.”
"It's fine. I wanted to check in on them anyway. I haven't stopped by lately."
"Yeah, me neither."
Surprised by his answer, I ask, "When was the last time you saw your dad?"
"Last week." He brushes his hand through his amber hair, strands fall near his temple, and he rubs his neck.
"You need to see him more," I say with a gentle tone.
"I know." He looks at me. "I've just been trying to keep the store afloat."
“Well, now it is thanks to me.” I nudge my knee into his leg.
August lets out a relieved breath with a smirk. Goose bumps run up and down my arms. His hand goes to my knee, and his thumb strokes it. I swallow my nerves.
“I’m happy I can get you to smile.” August says.
“You don’t think I smile enough?” I cock an eyebrow.
“I mean that it’s me who’s making you smile.” He peers at my lips. “I haven’t been able to get one out of you for a very long time. I’ve missed it.”
I think he’s the one person who can get me to smile any time of day, no matter the mood I’m in. He’s naturally funny. At least to me. Sometimes, everyone else thinks his jokes are corny.
“Your cheeks are my favorite. I like when they blush every time you talk to me.” He winks.
“Oh, so not my pretty eyes.” I bat my lashes.
The corner of his lip lifts, and a spark of amusement glows in his eyes. "I have a secret list of all my favorite things about you.”
I force myself not to cover my face. I won’t deny that he’s the only guy to ever make me blush. He has that effect on me. Whether that be from a compliment or because I did something silly in front of him, he still made me feel attractive.
Like when I threw up on him after riding a rollercoaster before I ate cotton candy within five seconds due to a bet. He didn’t make me feel bad about it despite my begging him to let me buy him a new shirt.
“And what would be the first thing you like about me?” I place my hands under my chin.
“Your big nose."
I touch my nose and gasp, swatting at his arm with my other hand.
August laughs and pulls himself back. "I'm kidding."
I rub my nose with my index finger while glaring at him and his stupid, cute face. The slight bump I have is smooth and soft.
His voice is tender when he says, "Honestly, your lips have always been my favorite.
The soft, bubble-gum color. The way they pucker when you're concentrating on something.
How the bottom lip is fuller than the top.
But most of all." He pauses, and I swear my heart skips a beat.
"The way you bite the left corner of your lip when you see something you desperately want—like right now. "
August looks down at my lips, and I'm too busy trying not to drool over his answer. I need to squeeze my legs together, and I hate that he has that effect on me. A second later, I realize I'm biting the corner of my lip.
I'm royally fucked.