chapter twenty-seven
RILES
He’s right, I know he is, but that doesn’t change anything.
At least not yet. I have a plan, one I’ve had for years, and I must see it through.
If I don’t, then what have I accomplished?
Failure. I can’t do that to myself, nor can I do it to Mom.
I know she wanted me to be happy, regardless of where my life takes me, but if I give up what I’ve worked so hard for, then every sacrifice I’ve made up to this point will be for nothing.
I’ll just have to try harder to accommodate Riley into my life, because he’s worth it and because I want him to be a part of it.
I can still achieve my dreams, but I no longer have to do it alone.
No man before him has made me feel the way he makes me feel, and I desperately don’t want to lose that.
I don’t want to lose him.
“We need to get ready for the farewell dinner,” Riley says, placing me on my feet again before heading to the closet.
Lips tingling, my heart in tatters yet somehow still whole and effervescent, I quit foreboding. “I hope everyone is there tonight so we can say goodbye.”
“Even Ben?”
“Especially Ben. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think I’m going to miss him.”
Riley pokes his head around the open door, his sexy eyes crinkling. “You’re right. I can’t believe you just said that.”
“He’s a good person.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Reaching behind his shoulders, he gathers the back of his T-shirt in his hand and pulls it over his head, his perfectly sculpted abdomen making my mouth water.
I chew my lip, admiring the view and how he drapes his black shirt over his shoulders, slides his arms inside, and leisurely secures one button at a time.
“Are you just going to stand there gawking at me, or are you going to get ready?”
I weigh my options. “I choose gawk.”
“We’ll be late,” he warns.
Scoffing, I let my ponytail out and comb my fingers through my hair. “I’m never late.”
“Keep staring at me like that and you will be.”
I keep staring.
Riley tucks his shirt into his jeans, collects his belt, and turns in my direction, the leather sliding along his hand before he pulls it taut with a snap.
My body startles at the intimidating sound. “What are you do—”
He snaps it again, a fiendish grin lifting his sinister lips.
Backing up, I place myself behind the bed and hold my hands up. “Put that down.”
“Why? Don’t you like the idea of me tying you up?”
No! Well… maybe. Okay, fine. Yes. Yes, I do.
“W-We don’t have time.”
Before I can form a convincing defense, he leaps across the bed, secures me in his arms, and loops the belt around my wrists. “I did warn you, sweetheart.”
I try not to laugh as I fight him off but happily give up. What’s the point? I want what he wants, and more. Much, much more.
Gently laying me on the bed, he lifts my arms above my head, my T-shirt following, his stubble tickling a trail down my chest and over my stomach.
I shudder, my body compliant to his every whim.
I guess we’re going to be late.
And quite frankly, for the first time in my life, I could not care less.
“Nice of you to join us,” Ben says as Riley pushes me in at the table.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment as all eyes settle on my face. “Sorry. I was doing my hair.”
Ben rests his hand on Riley’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “I bet you were.”
Pressing my lips together, I second-guess whether I will, in fact, miss the impudent buffoon.
“So when is everyone flying home?” I ask, diverting the conversation.
Hugo smirks behind his wine glass as if he too doesn’t believe my excuse. “We’re staying in France for a week. And then we’re heading to Italy.”
I sigh. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to visit Rome one day.”
“Perhaps you will.” He tips his glass to me and then to Riley. “Sooner rather than later.”
Blushing again, I pick up my menu and try to focus on this evening’s dishes.
“When are you flying home?” Manny asks.
“Tomorrow night.”
His eyebrows hitch. “So soon?”
“Yes.” I pout. “No rest for the wicked, I’m afraid.”
Riley huffs and fidgets in his seat, prompting Manny and Hugo to glance at one another.
“And you, Riley?” Manny asks. “When are you flying home?”
“Same as Riles.”
He smiles fondly at us. “You’re both still young. Plenty of time to see the rest of the world.”
I squeeze Riley’s leg beneath the table. “I agree. There’s no rush.”
“We leave the day after tomorrow,” Kathy says, gesturing at her husband. “Oscar is homesick. He misses his armchair.”
“And a decent beer,” he adds, wrinkling his nose at the ale in front of him.
“I miss my friends,” Avery whines. “And my treehouse.”
I set my menu down, excited for her. “You have a treehouse? That’s so cool! When I was your age, that’s all I wanted, but we didn’t have any trees where I lived.”
“You didn’t have trees?”
“No. I lived in an apartment in a city.”
Zach slurps his soda. “Treehouses are crap.”
Avery throws her crayon at him. “You’re crap!”
He throws it back.
I lean out of the way.
“Stop that!” Kathy laughs and pats Avery’s hand. “As you can see, it’s definitely time to go home.”
Feeling sorry for her, I suspect she hasn’t had much of a vacation, given how Oscar seems to just sit there like a potato.
“So, you two hookin’ up when you get back?” Ben asks.
I move my elbows onto the table, steeple my hands, and rest my chin on my fingers. “That’s none of your business.”
“Sheesh!” He winks at Riley. “Just tryin’ to help a bro out.”
“Thank you, Ben,” Riley says, letting out a slow breath. “But we’ve been through this. I don’t need your help.”
“You stopped biding?”
Riley glares at him.
“You have, haven’t you?” Ben gleams. “’Bout fucking time.”
A sense of déjà vu settles over me, so I narrow my eyes at them. “What are you talking about?”
Riley tips his beer to his lips. “Nothing.”
“He’s been dying to get into your panties for weeks, love.”
I recoil.
“Benjamin!” Hugo exclaims.
“What? He has.”
“Will you just shut up. It doesn’t concern you.”
“No.” I lift my hand at Hugo. “It’s okay. I want to hear this.”
Riley shifts in his seat and gestures toward the children. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
It’s not. But funnily enough, I’ve come to respect Ben’s brute honesty.
It’s refreshing, despite the language he uses to convey it.
No falsities. No shame. No tact, of course, but mostly no fear of expression.
He doesn’t hide who he is or what he wants to say.
And judging by how disinterested the Ohio family are—Oscar flagging down a waiter; Zach buried in his phone; Avery cramming a bread roll into her mouth, with Kathy chastising her as she picks and dusts crumbs off her daughter’s dress—now’s probably the best time for Ben to speak.
I’m about to tell him to go ahead, when he does so anyway.
“Just so you know, love, I wanted in your panties too, but my man here really digs you. Has since day one.” He swigs his drink, then wipes his mouth. “Told me to back off, because he was biding his time.”
My brow lifts. “He did, did he?”
Ben scoffs. “Yeah.”
“This really isn’t the time nor plac—”
I press my finger to Riley’s lips. “Shush.”
Ben continues, “Said you were off limits.”
“Off limits?” I drawl.
Smirking, Riley removes my finger and covers my hand with his. “You are… now.”
I narrow my eyes and try desperately not to return the smirk.
“So, I backed off, love. Not because I wanted to, but because my man had first dibs.”
“First dibs?” I choke out, turning to Riley. “First. Dibs?”
“Uh-oh,” Hugo murmurs.
I try to tug my hand back, but he holds it firmly in place. “That sounded a whole lot worse than what it was.”
I blink. “You think?”
“I told him to just fuck you,” Ben continues, “but he’s a gentleman and doesn’t—”
“Okaaay!” I lay my napkin on my lap. “Thank you, Ben. I’ve heard enough.”
He shrugs, turns his head, and surveys the room.
“The only thing you should take out of all of that,” Riley says, turning my head to give me a chaste kiss, “is the word gentleman.”
I pat his cheek a little harder than necessary. “We’ll see about that.”
Our waiter sets our meals in front of us, and something catches Ben’s eye, the corners of his mouth lifting as he raises his glass in a salute.
Leaning back in my seat, I follow his line of sight to where Whitney is eating dinner with Brittany, her eyes downcast as she mutters something behind her hand.
Brittany twists to look at us, then quickly twists back around, neither of them acknowledging Ben, even as their Tiffany bling glitters from around their wrists and necks.
He frowns and sets his glass down, his shoulders slumping.
Anger settles in my chest, my heart pinching for him. Despite the way he goes about seeking a partner, he deserves better than to be used for his money. “Hey, Ben!” I say, dipping my spoon in my soup. “Maybe you and I can catch a game together when the season starts up again.”
Riley snaps his head to me, and Hugo almost spits out his salad.
Ignoring them, I challenge Ben with an eyebrow waggle. “It’ll be fun. Knicks and Lakers, what do you say?”
He glances around the table, then straightens his back with pride. “It’s a date, love.”
It’s not, but I’m looking forward to it all the same. I haven’t been to a game in years.
After saying goodbye to everyone, Riley and I stroll the deck, hand in hand under the moonlight, before spending our last night together, hearts, minds, bodies, and souls passionately locked between the sheets.
He worships every inch of me, and I do the same, committing to memory the lines and grooves of his muscles and how they feel flexed beneath my fingers.
We move in unison, breathe in unison, neither of us mentioning the following day or what’s to happen next.
We simply share the moment, live the moment, and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms until the sun casts its rude awakening at dawn.
Clasping the handle of my suitcase, I pull it up and take one last look at our cabin as a sob escapes my lips.