chapter twenty-five #3
“Really?” I ask, delightfully shocked.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have visited the Titanic exhibit in Nova Scotia, trashed my hair in a pool of mutant mud, or stood in a library with some of the best woodwork I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.”
“You went to the museum?”
“I did, but not for long. I was looking for you, and when I couldn’t find you, I left.”
Turning in his arms, I link my hands behind his back. “Why were you looking for me?”
“Because I promised I wouldn’t leave you behind.”
Warmth flitters through my chest at his dedication and selflessness, and I wonder for a split moment how on earth Krystal let him go. “There’s another Titanic exhibit in Southampton. We can go there tomorrow after Stonehenge. I can teach you all about it.”
“I’d like that.” He dips his head and presses his lips to mine. “You’re sexy when you’re relaying historical information.”
“Oh, am I?”
“Yep. Reminds me of this hot teacher I had in school.”
“Riley!” I punch his arm and free myself from his grip. “That’s disgusting.”
“She wasn’t that old.”
We stroll atop the wall, then stop at Tower Green where two of King Henry’s wives were beheaded, among other prisoners, and I find it hard not to imagine the gruesome, cruel place this once was.
But it was also a mint, a zoo—so to speak, containing a menagerie of exotic animals gifted to kings—and the heavily guarded home of the crown jewels. So it’s not all grim and murder.
“I can’t believe those were the crown jewels,” I say to Riley as we enter the White Tower. “I thought they’d be fakes with the real ones stashed away in some high-security vault, the location known only by the monarch. Seems risky to have them there on display for the public.”
He stops by two suits of armor, one enormous, the other tiny. “How do you know they’re real? It could be the royal family’s greatest and best-kept secret. Just because they say those are the real crown jewels doesn’t mean they are.”
I frown at him, but he has a point.
We move into King Edward I’s bedchamber—a brightly colored room that looks oddly childish for a monarch, and Riley stops in his tracks at a sideboard. “I think I’m in love.”
I scrunch my nose at the hideous thing. “Isn’t she too old for you? Then again, you did say you liked older teachers.”
He rubs his beard, eyes glued to the deteriorated wood. “No. She’s perfect.”
“Would you two like to be alone?” I offer.
He side-eyes me before tugging me to his chest. “I’d much prefer to be alone with you.”
“We are alone.”
Riley surveys the room, a devilish grin lighting his face. “Great! Let’s try out the bed.”
“Wha—” Before I can step out of his embrace, he bear-hugs me and lifts my feet from the ground, walking us closer to the ropes cordoning off the bed. “Riley! No! We can’t.”
“We can.”
“Put me down!”
Chuckling, he sets me on my feet again. “Ease up, Riles. I’m not that game nor stupid.”
I shove him back and smooth my T-shirt down. “I’m glad, because if one could be beheaded in this day and age, something tells me it would be here.”
“This place creeps you out, doesn’t it?”
“Kind of.” I roll my shoulders, my skin prickling. “I mean, I love the history, but terrible things happened here for centuries. And those ravens outside only add to it.”
“They’re just birds.”
“Yeah, creepy birds. And when there’s more than one, their collective noun is an ‘unkindness.’ Enough said.”
He gives me an “interesting” face.
“Exactly! I think they’re also known as a ‘treachery.’” I take one last look at the room, then edge toward the door. “Have you seen everything you want to see here?”
“I have.”
“Can we go then? The sun will be setting soon, which is the perfect time to ride the Eye. It’ll be lovely.”
Hand in hand, we leave the medieval, polarizing castle before sailing along the gentle waters of the Thames, past Shakespeare’s Globe—which is smaller than I imagined it to be—before docking across the river from the Eye.
“That’s one gigantic Ferris wheel,” Riley says, his neck arched back, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Don’t tell me you fear heights as well?”
“I don’t, but… I’m not sure I can get in one of those glass egg-looking cages.”
Shit! I didn’t think of that.
“Oh!” My heart deflates. “We don’t have to ride it if you don’t want to.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “You should do it. If I weren’t here with you, you would.”
I take his hand from his head and clasp it in mine. “But you are here.”
Drawing in a deep breath, he holds it before puffing it out, his cheeks akin to deflating balloons.
“It’s fine,” I say, not wanting him to feel pressured as I pull my cell out. “Let me just take a couple of pictures, and then we can head back to the ship.”
He scratches the back of his head, then drops his gaze to mine. “If I die up there, promise me you’ll give Poppy the souvenirs I bought her. And tell Mom I won a dance contest.”
I laugh. “You’re not going to die.”
“I am.”
“Seriously, we don’t have to do—”
“Fuck it.” He bounces on the spot and jerks his head from side to side. “Let’s do this before I back out.”
Riley strides to the ticket booth like a man on a mission, and we purchase our passes, then climb aboard, the doors soon closing, the glass pod slowly lifting.
“See?” I say, clasping his hand firmly in mine as we sit on the oval wooden bench in the center of the pod. “It’s only us in here. That’s good. We’re not cramped.”
His eyes suspiciously survey our casing, and I feel awful for his unease.
“And we’re hardly moving,” I add. “It’s as if we’re not moving at all.”
“It’s not the moving part that bothers me, Riles. It’s the ‘not being able to get out if I want to’ part. And I’m going to want to.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to be fine. Think of it as being on the train. You can still stand and walk about freely. You just can’t get off until we get there.”
“Not helping, Riles.”
“Sorry.”
Sweat slicks his palm, dampening mine.
I give it a squeeze and stand. “Walk with me. We’ll keep moving while we’re moving, as if we’re walking along the street.
” Continuing to talk to him, I try not to give him enough time to think about his confinement.
“That garden over there is pretty.” I point at it, forcing him to focus beyond the glass.
“And look at the river. It’s like a murky latte.
Oh my God! I’d die for a coffee right now.
How about you? Coffee would be perfect, right? ”
He nods.
“Oh, look!” I point at Big Ben and usher us to the other side of the pod. “Isn’t the clock magnificent from here? And Westminster Abbey? And—”
“Riles.”
“Yes? Do you need to sit again?”
“No.”
“We can sit if you’d prefer.”
“It’s okay. You can stop rambling.”
“It’s not helping distract you?”
“It is, but it’s also giving me a headache. You sound like a chipmunk.”
“I do not sound like a chipmunk,” I squeak out.
He cocks an eyebrow.
Peanut butter.
When he drags me closer, our chests collide before his lips meet mine, his hand cradling the base of my head. I fall languid against him, my arms limp, my legs wavering. If this moment froze in time, everlasting and eternal, I certainly wouldn’t complain.
Blinking as my eyes focus on his, I realize that, for the first time in my life, words evade me.
He doesn’t speak either, simply searching my face before giving me a quick peck. “Turn around, sweetheart.”
“Huh?”
Riley gestures toward something beyond my head.
Curious, I swivel to face the most glorious sunset I’ve ever seen, swirls of pinks, oranges, purples, and blues lining the sky as far as the eye can see.
“Wow! Just—” I swallow. “Wow.”
He crosses his arms over my chest. “Yeah.”
Sighing, I rest my head against his pecs. “What a perfect day.”