chapter fifteen
RILES
My face heats to the boiling point, my knees almost giving way.
Did he just say kiss… for twenty seconds? As in kiss, kiss?
The audience roars to life, their cheers deafening. I stare at them, then at Paul, then at Riley, my jaw dropping, my hand shooting up to cover it, and then I shake my head so fast I think I pull a muscle.
Riley steps closer, reducing the distance between us, his eyes on mine, mine unblinking.
Shit! Shit, shit, shit!
How much do I want that damn spa voucher and trophy? Enough to kiss him in front of an auditorium full of people? I try to weigh it up, but I don’t get the chance when he reaches for my face, his hands gentle but strong as they cup my cheeks and guide my lips to his.
The cheering stops. At least, I think it does; I can’t hear it over the thunder of my beating heart. I hold still, hands splayed by my sides, body rigid, eyes locked on his.
Heat surges from my head to the tips of my toes, and they curl of their own accord within my shoes.
I gasp ever so slightly, closing my eyes and parting my lips.
He releases one hand against my cheek, presses it to my back, and holds me to him as his tongue gently sweeps mine.
My body awakens, sparks, sizzles like a bomb, effervescent as if a thousand tiny bubbles have burst beneath my skin.
Never in my life have I kissed or been kissed like am right now. These kisses don’t exist except for within the pages of the books I often read. A fantasy. A fairy tale. A fictitious magic trick.
Elevating like a ballerina en pointe, I drape my arms over his shoulders, my fingers climbing his nape until they’re tangled in his hair.
My chest tingles against his, my mouth hungry for everything he’s giving me.
Every touch, sweet exhale, and gentle sweep of his tongue.
I want it all. I want him. I want to twist, turn, climb, and fall.
A deep growl passes his lips, and the hand pressing my back slips to my side, his fingers kneading the soft flesh above my hip as he lifts me from the ground, my feet dangling, my mind counting down like a rocket, ready for take-off.
“Three. Two. One!”
The audience hoots and cheers, and I blink, the countdown not of my body, instead from our spectators.
Panting, I pull away and drop my hands to his chest, staring at his heavy eyes and glistening lips.
Holy peanut freaking butter!
He stares back but releases his grip and gently plants me on my feet again.
“Phoa!” Paul fans his face, and I’m tempted to ask him to fan mine as well. “Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?”
What just happened?
Embarrassment arrests my limbs, and I step away from Riley, side-eyeing him while tracing my lips with my fingertips.
He kissed your damn socks off; that’s what happened.
“Just friends?” Paul quips. “Just. Friends?” He laughs. “Not anymore.”
“Did we win?” I bite out.
“Did we win, she asks.” He gives the brothers a pitiful look. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
Confused, angry… and slightly turned on, I don’t know what to do or say.
Do I slap Riley for invading my mouth without permission?
Because if anyone else had just done what he did, I wouldn’t hesitate in getting slappy.
Do I grab him and kiss him again? Because that was, without a doubt, the kiss of a lifetime.
Or do I brush off what just happened? Because we didn’t really have a choice, and it was a game, and I wanted to win, and… and….
Yes, pretend it was nothing. No big deal, right?
It’s what’s best for him; he has a lot going on with his divorce, and I certainly don’t want to add to that. I just hope I can remain indifferent and not melt into a puddle at his feet, because… wow! He’s a phenomenal kisser.
“Great job, Fabio,” I choke out, winking as I elbow his side. “Those marshmallow jerks don’t stand a chance now.”
His eyes narrow, the skin between his brows bunching as he rubs his beard. “Y-Yeah. They’re going down.”
Relief floods my body. Thank God he’s as impassive as I’m pretending to be. “That was so embarrassing,” I add, faking a laugh. “Longest twenty seconds of my life.”
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes still narrowed as he studies my face. I look away. I have to, because if I don’t, I’ll reveal how I really feel, my fingers, lips, and toes still tingling.
Darius and Levi jump on the spot, shaking their limbs like those creepy person-shaped kites at a car dealership.
“Your twenty seconds starts now!” Paul says.
The brothers hold still, Levi asking, “You want us to kiss too?”
“Yes.” Paul gives Carlos an animated look. “It’s only fair.”
“I’m not kissing my brother.”
“Come on, Lev. Just a peck. We can do this.” Darius closes his eyes and leans forward, lips pursed.
I smirk as Levi hesitantly inches closer, pulls back, and then inches forward again.
“Nope!” he says, raising his hands. “I can’t. They win.”
Victory.
Squealing, I bounce up and down, grab Riley’s hand, and hold it up. “We did it! We won!” I say, bumping his hip with mine. “Suckers!”
“Congratulations, friends. You’re our winners of Truth or Dare.” Paul takes an envelope from Carlos and hands it to me.
I flap it about, waiting eagerly for the trophy.
“Great job, you two.” He pats my shoulder. “You may take your seats again.”
“Wait!” I frown. “Where’s the gold ship trophy?”
Paul covers the microphone with his hand. “You don’t get one. They’re for trivia, karaoke, and dance competitions.”
“But I did dance. I did the robot.”
He stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Sorry, but that doesn’t count.”
Doesn’t count? My shoulders slump. What does a girl have to do to get a damn gold trophy?
“One more round of applause for our, friends,” Paul says, ushering us off the stage.
Disappointed, I follow Riley down the stairs, my legs Jell-O-like with every step to the floor. “I can’t believe we just did that,” I say, scurrying along the aisle to match his swift strides.
“You wanted to win,” he mutters.
“I did! Didn’t you?”
He stops at our row and gestures for me to take a seat. “I didn’t care either way.”
Edging past him, my stomach knots.
Is he mad about the kiss? Did he hate it? Oh my God… was I terrible?
The kiss certainly didn’t feel terrible to me; it was amazing. Sweet. Passionate. Mesmerizing. If anything, it was too amazing.
Utterly mortified that perhaps I kiss like a wet fish, I sink into the plush velvet chair next to Brittany, my mortification made worse by her fuming stare drilling into the side of my head.
“I think I’m hard,” Ben says, adjusting his crutch. “You two need to bang one out.”
“Shut up!” Riley and I both snap.
“Whoa!” He chuckles. “Just go and fuck and get it over with.”
Riley turns in his seat, his torrid eyes targeting on Ben, his nostrils flared.
He looks ready to launch over me and hit the imbecile, and even though Ben probably deserves a fist to the nose, I don’t want Riley to be the one to do it.
Not over this. Not over me. It’s my fault we played the stupid game and were forced to kiss, and clearly, he’s far from impressed about it.
“Thank you, everyone,” Paul announces. “You’ve been brilliant as always. I’ll see you back here tonight for the magic show with our resident magician Darren Banes. In the meantime, let me leave you with this joke. What vegetable do we not allow on cruise ships?”
I think about it for a moment, my mind wandering to cabbage, because… well, it stinks.
“Leeks!” Paul yells. “We can’t have leeks on the ship.”
Half the auditorium groans, and the other half laugh, including me—it was clever.
Riley shoots to his feet and storms out of the theatre, and again, I scurry after him. “Hey! Wait up.”
He refuses to slow down, so I reach out and touch his arm. “What’s your problem?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Uh… yeah, you do.”
“I don’t.”
Feeling as if I’ve been punched in the gut, but also guilt-ridden for pushing him to win at all costs and kiss me when he may not have been ready to kiss another woman, I apologize for the mess we seem to now be in.
“I’m sorry, okay? I never thought we’d be asked to kiss. But… you didn’t have to do—”
“It’s fine, Riles. We won. You got your spa voucher.”
“You mean our spa voucher.”
“I don’t care about the damn spa.”
I clasp his T-shirt, dig my heels into the ground, and force him to stop walking. “Riley—”
“What?”
Taken aback by his harsh tone, I let go.
He sighs, his eyes finally settling on mine as he places his hands on my shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m happy we won.”
Searching his face for answers, for why his jaw is tense and why his delightful crinkles are no longer there, my heart pinches; I miss his crinkles.
Every fiber of my being wants to cup his cheek and bring his lips to mine again, to feel what I felt on stage, but…
I don’t. I wouldn’t dare. The game is over.
“It was just a kiss,” he says, swallowing heavily, his hands falling to his sides. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Yeah.” I clear the lump in my throat. “You’re right.”
“Good. Now, can we just forget it and move on?”
“S-Sure. Of course.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
We continue walking until I can no longer bear the dreadful silence. “Uh, I’m just going to go back to the room for a little bit and do some work, so I’ll… I’ll see you later.”
“No sweat.”