by Lisa Swallow
Riley sits in the pub lounge with a glass of orange juice, twisting the glass around in her hands, brow knitted. I watch for a while, her unguarded stance at odds with the Riley I’ve fought with. A loose strand of hair annoys her; she repeatedly pushes it back with delicate fingers. I look at her as Riley and not the girl I’ve constructed in my head. My chest tightens as I look at her parted lips.
I approach and she looks up, straight into my face with no hint of caution. I’m unsure what happens next. We parted with a few mumbled words when we returned to the pub after the kiss.
“Any news on when we can leave?” I ask.
“No. George spoke to somebody earlier and the snow ploughs can now get to the village but can’t drive this far yet.”
“Jesus, we’re in the Dark Ages.” I sit on the stool opposite. Part of me had hoped this situation would be over, but a larger part wants more time alone with Riley to see what happens next.
“My sentiments exactly.”
I look out of the window fighting what to say next to break the tension I’m recreating. “So, uh, Riley…” I begin.
Riley interrupts. “This time, tell me what you’re thinking. I don’t want to go back to the nastiness. If the kiss was spur of the moment and a mistake, tell me.”
I drag a hand through my hair and look back. Her eyes are wary, and I don’t know what the hell to do or say.
“Was it to you?” I ask.
“Yes and no. After all this time, kissing you felt wrong and right at the same time.”
I can’t say this. I point at her glass. “I need a drink. Want one?”
“Of course you do.” She smiles and the weird nervousness gripping my chests loosens. “I think I do too. I’m in shock after earlier.”
I return with drinks, and Riley’s texting. She hastily sets her phone face down as I sit opposite again. “Thanks.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, the crackle of the fire and Val crashing pots around in the kitchen the only sounds.
Fuck it. “Riley. I have to tell you something strange.”
She glances up. “Stranger than kissing me earlier?”
“Yeah. So, this is how it is.” I pick at the edge of the table. Shit this is going to sound weird. “Uh. So. I don’t kiss people.”
A giggle bursts from Riley and she gives me a small shake of her head. “You kissed me.”
“Exactly.”
“No, I mean you kissed me two years ago and you kissed me earlier.”
Her response prickles my neck; this isn’t a joke. “But I don’t normally. I mean, not full on like I kissed you.”
“Surely you kissed Sophia and your… other girls.”
“Not really. They try but I don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Like I said, don’t want to.”
Riley sits back and her amusement drops. “I’m going to be direct here. You don’t have to answer but I have to ask. Did something happen to make you like you are?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” She wrinkles her nose. “Some kind of abuse. Is that why you’re the way you are?”
“Wow, that’s forward. And no, nothing like that. I’m fucked up by a girl, that’s all.” I swill the contents of my glass and drink.
“That’s all? Years of shutting yourself down because of one heartbreak?”
“Yeah, well you don’t understand if you’ve never experienced it. I loved someone. They fucked me over. Big style. I don’t want to get hurt again, so I keep part of myself I don’t share. There’s something intimate about a kiss and—”
“And sex isn’t?”
“Not to me. That’s physical. Feels good. Kissing is connecting, giving yourself. When you look somebody in the eyes, you’re connecting on a deeper level.”
Riley rubs her fingers across her lips as she searches my face. Does she think I’m lying? Why would anybody lie about stupid shit like this? “Then why did you kiss me?” she asks in a small voice.
“Don’t know. Think I wanted to connect with somebody. You. Made sense at the time.”
“Okay…”
“I also see someone who understands me.”
Riley stares at the table and my stomach lurches. Why am I telling her this shit? And she’s right. What is with the kissing thing? Jesus, I’m a counsellor’s dream client. But kissing Riley pulled me in, held me to her. In the split second before my lips were on hers, I met her eyes and was overwhelmed. I wanted her to know me because I think she already does.
“You’re telling me you have relationships for weeks and never kiss? I find that hard to believe. Kissing is the first step.”
“Nah, if they don’t want to skip that stage, they don’t bother hanging around.” I lift my eyes to hers. “That’s why I don’t get to screw as many girls as people think.”
“I certainly wouldn’t stick around.”
“I reckon you don’t kiss people much either.”
She frowns and drinks. “No. I don’t do relationships, so I don’t get the chance.”
“Why not?”
“Too busy.” She clams up and looks away.
“You celibate these days, Riley?”
This time Riley fixes me with an intense look. “No. I’m too busy and don’t want a relationship. Hook-ups work for me.”
I rest my elbows on the table and lean in. “Hook-ups? How about me?”
Riley runs her tongue along her teeth and stares into the fire behind me. Surely she expected this to be my next move? “I’ve half-considered it since we’ve been here,” she says in a low voice. “Because I know you won’t want any more from me. Part of me knows what you said in the kitchen earlier is true. We could just give in to this, then the whole situation can be underlined and forgotten about, the way it should’ve been the first time.”
“But you hate me.”
“Do I? I kissed you.” She pauses. “Do you hate me?”
I slump back and the crashing realisation we’re the same person hits. “No. You piss me off, but I don’t hate you.”
“And you infuriate me by being a rude bastard.” Her mouth quirks into a half-smile.
I rest my elbows on the table and lean towards her. “But that attitude makes you so goddamn unobtainable and I want you more.”
“And that makes you so self-assured I want to know how that translates into bed, and properly this time.”
We stop and regard each other, both unable to hide our surprise.
“Well, that was some confession,” I say. “On both sides.”
“When I said… what I mean is. I don’t know what I mean.” Every time we’ve fought, every battle we won or lost, inevitably leads to this. Why else would Riley be so deep under my skin that she’s as tattooed on my heart as the ink above?
“This is some weird shit,” I say. Another laugh bubbles from Riley. “And so’s that. You laughing. Why are you sad all the time?”
“Because I don’t want to be here.” She drinks.
“No, not in the pub, you’re unhappy all the time.”
“I am not.”
“The aggression you use to keep people out hurts you, though. I should know.”
Riley’s eyes shine as she dips her head. Shit. I never meant to hit a sore point and a possible shift into bitchiness again. “Why am I unhappy? Ask yourself that same question, Nate, and you’ll find the answer,” she says in a soft voice.
“I don’t know you at all, do I?”
“No.”
“And I want to. Let me in.”
Riley tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think, considering our history, it may take me a little longer to let you in.”
And I say my word, the one I always use when the others fail or aren’t allowed. “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” she mimics.
I slide around onto the stool next to Riley, take her face in both hands, and kiss her. Really kiss her. Riley’s tongue strokes my lips, and she opens her mouth to welcome mine. The voice inside sho
uts stop, but that’s no longer an option. She tastes of orange juice and of Riley, the forbidden girl who I crave attention from. Who I want to take upstairs and get naked with. Now.
Riley draws away and places her fingers on my lips. “You kissed again.”
“Yeah.” My heart thuds, body streaming with something strange. Affection. Need. Desire. All mingled into one confusing reaction. I long for the girl, who saw me once, to open her eyes to who I really am again. Totally, terrifyingly hers.
I want to smack myself around the head for the stupidity of falling into this. What if I take her down with me when I end up broken; both our hearts smashed again, and this time irreparable?
For the next ten minutes, we sit in silence and hold hands.
Yeah. This is some weird shit. What happens tonight when the bed situation arises? My promise I’ll keep my hands off Riley doesn’t stand anymore.
RILEY
Has cabin fever messed with my mind enough that I trip over my moping and straight into Nate’s arms? Each day that passes, the further I am from reality. I’ve stopped working, and I spend more and more time thinking about Josh and my life outside work. About Nate.
I’m wary. Nate could be passing the time and playing with me again; but each hour that goes by, I’m unsure he is. I’m reminded of the days we connected on the tour; the funny guy who would seek me out when he was drunk and talk to me. Who I repeatedly pushed away because he couldn’t let go of the girls. Who told me he wanted me and then treated me like shit. Now I understand. Nate is screwed up and his way of coping isn’t working. Reminds me of someone…
What happened with him and the girl from his past to cause him to treat every woman he gets close to like this? That’s one hell of a teen breakup.
I’ve never looked into a man’s eyes and had the world fade to black around, then burst into new colours that push away the shadows in my heart. How many men have I met since Logan? Since Nate two years ago? Enough for the laws of the universe to find somebody compatible. Not a forever guy, but at least somebody who made me feel the way Nate once did and in such a short time.
There are thousands of guys I haven’t yet met, but I know none of them will be a match for my heart. Some people meet who have no choice; they belong together or be forever missing a part of themselves. Unfortunately, the person I met who fits is also too much like me: too fucked up and unavailable.
Do I believe that this could change? I don’t need to because each second I spend alone with Nate, the parts of each other that fight to be together merge. The messed up parts that battle become subdued with each admission we make.
The idea takes my breath away; but the truth is, a deeper part of me can’t exist without Nate and never will with anybody else.
16
NATE
The atmosphere in the pub this evening is infected with the news we’ll be out by tomorrow. Riley loses some of the tension; I like to think that was partially me. George and Jason start the evening with celebratory beers, and of course, I join them. It would be rude not to, right?
Becca challenges us to another game of Monopoly and my competitive side comes out. This time the rivalry between Riley and me is friendlier and joining this is a relaxed intimacy. Why is a smile from Riley the brightest thing in my life for months?
Riley naked in bed is constantly in my thoughts too. The attraction never left, and I was telling her the truth that it intensified when we were at each other’s throats. Now I don’t want to show her I can win. I want her to share herself with me
“I’m gonna try calling Will again,” I say as Monopoly reaches its long, drawn-out conclusion. “See if he’ll come up tomorrow and drive us back to London.”
“That’s a big ask,” Riley replies.
I stand. “He’s my brother. I can ask him for anything. We look out for each other.”
“Okay. Would be good of him.” She begins sorting through the Monopoly cards focusing on matching the colours.
“Yeah, we’ll catch a taxi into Moortown and he can pick us up.”
“You have this all planned out,” she says.
“For days. He offered, but I haven’t been able to catch him recently.” Riley nods, intent on her task. “Back in five. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Mmm hmm. Was planning a wild night out, but maybe I’ll stay here.” Riley looks up at me and I hesitate. Screw it. I lean down and place my lips on hers just long enough for the thrill to hit me. I catch the stunned look from Becca as I walk away.
I head to the bedroom where I left my phone. I’m never without my phone. I’m a different man. Hah.
I call Will but no reply. Great. I want to work on finishing my night with Riley in the way I’d like. My mind disappears on its own tangent. What are my chances? She blurted that she wanted sex, and Riley’s lying when she says she didn’t know if she meant it.
No response from Will the next couple of times and I grit my teeth. He told me to call at eight. I wait, and drift off into my naked Riley fantasies. My phone rings, the sound of the Ruby Riot track ringtone a reminder of my world outside of this weird white one. Will.
“Hey, man,” I say as I answer.
“How’s the cosy winter break going?” he asks with a laugh
“Haha. Bored.”
“You’re in a pub! How could that ever equal boredom?”
“Believe me, day three and I want out.”
“Any idea how long?”
“Tomorrow so we’ve been told. You still okay to come and get me. Us.”
Will laughs again. “Sure, since you fucked up your new car. I can’t if it’s later than tomorrow though; we’re heading to Fleur’s family for a few days. Then I’m heading back to Oxford with her to stay home for a few days.”
I snort. “Dutiful boyfriend. They’ll be asking what your intentions are with their daughter. How long have you been together now? Over a year.”
“I’m not Jax. We’re not jumping into the marriage crap. Nah, we’re happy as we are.”
I bet Fleur would be the one reluctant to commit, not Will. I’m still convinced she’ll get bored of my big-hearted brother. When Fleur’s on tour, she hovers around the edges. I dunno. Maybe this is his big love; I hope this is hers too. If Fleur breaks his heart, she’ll regret it.
“How about you and Smiley?” he asks. “She fallen for your charms yet?”
“Working on that.”
“Not shagged her yet? That would be some challenge, especially after you messed with her before.”
“Riley knows the score. Hell, if we both get bored enough, I’m sure we can wile away a few hours.”
“Ha! Good luck. Not gonna happen.”
Here we go, twin challenges. “Wanna bet?”
Will scoffs. “She hates you, man.”
“I don’t think she does. I’m halfway there; I’ll have her begging for me before we leave.”
“You’re gonna give her what she needs? Get her to relax a bit?” he teases.
“Like I’ve ever turned down a no-strings fuck with a girl.”
Twin challenges. We always rise to whatever they are, always will. Sometimes it’s dumb stuff, but it’s been a while since the challenge was getting a girl to spread her legs. Old habits die hard, and this one I’m guaranteed to win. The challenge from Will isn’t needed here.
“Ow!” Will exclaims and there’s a girl’s voice muffled in the background. “You don’t have to listen,” he says, presumably to Fleur. “Brother stuff.”
Fleur’s voice responds and the background quiets again.
“Does your demure girl not like you talking about other chicks and sex?”
“She’s good, knows I’m not like you.”
“Currently.”
“Permanently. Go drag Riley into your bed and have fun.”
“She won’t know what hit her!” I say with a laugh.
Will’s right about the stuck in a pub part though. If we’re out of here tomorrow, I can have a few more drinks and work on R
iley. We make plans for tomorrow, Will grumbling about the long drive. After more jibing, I end the call with a smile. Feels good to talk to someone from my normal life. I sit on the edge of the bed. Talking to Will edges sense in, and reminds me who I am. Yep, I’ll rise to his challenge; I always do.
I pull open the bedroom door and look straight at Riley. Her face is expressionless, but her eyes tell me everything I need to know. Oh, shit.
“What you doing?” I ask.
“I wanted to make a call too. My phone is charging over there.” Riley’s voice is low, eyes hard as she stabs her finger in the direction of a bedside table.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough, Nate ‘no-strings fuck’ Campbell.” She shoves me in the chest and I stumble back into the room.
Riley slams the door behind us.
“You heard what I said to Will?”
“Oh yeah, I heard your chat with your brother.” She pushes me in the chest again. “You’re full of shit.”
“Riley…”
“‘I can’t get close to people; you’re different’,” she mocks. “Do you really think I believed that bullshit?” As she reaches out to push me in the chest again, I grab her arms.
How upset is she? I search Riley’s face for signs of tears, but her clear eyes fix on mine in challenge. She pulls against where I hold her wrists, unable to free them as I tighten my grip.
“Do it, then,” she says. “Fuck me. Here. Now. Show me what I’m supposed to be begging for.”
“What the hell?” I drop her arms and step away. “Are you drunk?”
“I’m bored. Haven’t had sex for a while, may as well give this a go. We both agreed we should.” In a stunning move, Riley drags her sweater over her head, revealing tits barely contained by a black lacy bra. I stare at the curve of her belly in an attempt not to follow my body’s suggestion I help her out of the bra too.
My breath rushes out as the sweater lands at my feet. She’s serious. Holy fuck. “Don’t do this.”
“I thought you liked girls who stripped for you, Nate.”
“Normally, but…” I trail off as Riley unbuttons her jeans and wriggles out of them. Matching black knickers. Whoa. I pick up her sweater from the floor and hold it between us, in front of my eyes. “Put this back on.”