It was what Riley had figured, and exactly what Tate had said when Riley had asked him, but it frustrated Riley all the same. He hated that he still cared so damned much, but he couldn’t adjust his feelings for Lexie any more than he could turn back time and take back everything they’d ever said to each other.
“Anyone home?”
Riley and Seb peeped over the guttering of the roof to see Maggie grinning up at them with her hands at the small of her back so her baby belly stuck out, looking even bigger. With arms in the air, singing to herself, Rosie twirled around the backyard.
“When you two body beautifuls are done sunning yourselves,” Maggie called up, “come to the kitchen. I brought Subway.”
“Love you, Mags!” the brothers yelled back in unison.
“Yeah, yeah,” their cousin grumbled, waddling her way back into the house.
· · ·
The high dependency unit was a lot more welcoming than the ICU, although Riley put that down to the palpable fear and heartache that seemed to cling to the walls of that particular part of the hospital. Not that the lavender paint and easy-smiling nurses made him feel much better as he walked with Seb and Maggie down the HDU corridor toward his father’s room.
In fact, he felt physically sick. It wasn’t in his nature to be such a pussy, but Riley was all too aware of the shit-ton of water under this particular bridge and he wasn’t sure there was room for more. His mom greeted them all at the door of the room with hugs and cheek kisses and ushered them in, whispering words about them only staying a short time because “Daddy is still fuzzy.”
The first things Riley noticed were the wires and machines blurting out sporadic beeps and hisses that were altogether fucking terrifying. There was a patch of white bandage taped to his father’s chest and an oxygen tube fixed under his nose. The second thing that Riley noticed was how small his father looked. Small and unbearably weak. He gritted his teeth and pushed his hands into his pockets, fighting off the feeling of helplessness that crashed over him.
Seb approached the bed first, taking Tate’s place, and put his hand on Park’s forearm. “Hey, Dad.” The corner of Park’s mouth twitched as he opened his eyes before blinking in reply.
“His voice and throat are a little sore,” Joan explained. “He’s still not allowed to drink anything.”
“Hell of a way to get out of fixing the roof, huh?” Seb said. They all chuckled when Park gave a shaky thumbs-up. “Maybe do it before you get up the ladder next time.” Seb leaned over and placed a kiss on his father’s forehead.
Joan smiled and glanced at Riley, who fidgeted under her knowing look. “Riley’s here, too, Park,” she said, rubbing her hand down Riley’s arm.
Park’s tired, brown gaze slid over to their side of the room. His and Riley’s eyes met and, inexplicably, Riley’s throat became tight. “Good to see you, Dad,” he managed. It was the most cordial thing he’d said to the man in almost five years.
After a tense moment in which Joan’s grip on Riley’s arm began to tighten, Park blinked just as he had done with Seb, and dipped his chin in reply. The gesture told Riley they still had a long way to go, but it was more than Riley could have ever hoped for.
A plump nurse entered the room with a bag of fluid and squeezed past Riley and his mother. “Don’t be crowding my patient now,” she warned. “Five more minutes.”
“Nancy, this is my niece, Maggie, and these two are my other sons,” Joan told the nurse, pointing at them in turn. “Riley and Sebastian.”
Nancy eyed the two of them as she changed Park’s IV and pursed her lips. “Handsome boys,” she commented. “But pretty doesn’t make my patient better. Four minutes.”
Riley snickered into the back of his hand when he saw Tate’s finger move in a circular motion by his own temple.
“Look, why don’t we leave and get something nice for dinner, maybe have a mosey around the stores?” Maggie suggested. “I have to pick Rosie up from day care. We’ll leave you in peace, Uncle Park. Rosie is desperate to go to the Disney store.”
“Urgh, really?” Riley griped, slapping his palms to his thighs in disgust.
“What?” Maggie asked.
“Ignore him,” Tate answered with a smug grin. “He’s only sore because Disney loves Marvel. Just like I do.” He gestured to the T-shirt he was wearing that read, “Who the hell is Bucky?”
Maggie shook her head at Tate in confusion. “Who the hell is Bucky?”
Riley barked a laugh in Tate’s direction at the same time Seb begged, “Don’t, Mags. Please!”
“She doesn’t know who Bucky is,” Riley said with a loud snort over Seb’s pleading.
Tate smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t know who Bane is, either.”
“You shut your mouth,” Riley snapped with a pointed finger at his brother before glaring at Maggie. “Are you serious? Did you not even watch The Dark Knight Rises? Tom Hardy!” All he got from his cousin was a vacant expression. “Jesus, Mags, how are we even related?”
Seb groaned. “Make it stop.”
“I concur,” Joan added, gently cajoling Riley toward the door while beckoning Tate over with a wave. “Go with Maggie. Sebastian can stay here with me.” She cupped Tate’s face. “You need some fresh air, sweetheart. And sitting in that chair is doing your leg no favors.”
“I’m fine, Ma,” he protested.
“That may be so, but I’m tired of your gorgeous face.”
“Pffft. I’ve seen turds more gorgeous.” Riley laughed and ducked from Tate’s fist that flew toward his bicep. “Dick move, bro,” he commented. “You know I can’t hit you back because you’re a cripple.”
“Riley!” Joan exclaimed.
“What?” Riley asked incredulously, pointing at Tate. “He’s the one who said it.”
But Tate didn’t reply, save for his laughter that echoed down the corridor.
· · ·
“This is hell,” Riley grumbled, scowling at the Avengers figurine sets packing most of the shelves in the Disney store. “I think my three-piece chicken is going to come back up.”
“Oh, stop,” Maggie chastised playfully. “Rosie loves it here.”
Riley looked over at Rosie flittering and humming around the place, unable to fight the smile that pulled across his face. She was too cute in her sparkling shoes and blue dress.
“Do you know she demands that I do her hair like Elsa every day? She’s a queen, too, you know.”
“I just bet she is. And what fun that must be,” Riley added drolly.
Maggie sighed when Rosie picked up an Elsa doll and hugged it. “Shit, who the hell am I kidding? I’m just praying for the day Disney releases something else so we can all move on and I can finally have some variety of music in the damn car already!”
“Frozen sound track?”
“I know it word for word, I swear to God.”
Riley laughed and patted Maggie on the shoulder. “God bless Disney.” He noticed Tate lift a bobble-head Iron Man and then another that looked like Thor and shook his head. “At least there’s Star Wars stuff,” he mused, eyeing the plush Yodas.
He gravitated toward the Millennium Falcon Lego sets, maneuvering his way around kids and other grown adults who were unable to resist the pull of anything created by George Lucas. He picked one up, trying to convince himself that spending over sixty bucks on Lego was outrageous even if it did come with an awesome Lego Han Solo and Chewy.
“Dammit, even as Lego, Han Solo looks good.”
“I likes Luke Skiesswalker bestest.”
The small but resolute voice came from near Riley’s knee. Riley looked down to see a blond head of hair burrowing between the lightsabers on the second shelf.
“That’s because you don’t know any better, kid,” he remarked.
The boy reappeared with a blue lightsaber in his hand. “Ham Solo doesn’t haves this.”
Riley grinned at the way the boy’s lisp made his Ses sound like adorable hisses. “That’s true,”
Riley agreed, waving the box in his hand. “But Han has the Millennium Falcon—much better than a lightsaber, wouldn’t you agree?”
Still on his knees, and with the lightsaber clutched to his chest, the little boy looked up. His eyes were large and hazel and reminded Riley so much of his own that he was momentarily struck dumb.
“No,” the boy replied, his attention dancing between Riley and his toy. “Luke Skiesswalker has The Force.” He blinked up at Riley as though daring him to argue.
Riley chuckled and put the Lego set back on the shelf. “I stand corrected. How can I possibly argue with that?”
“You can’t,” the little boy replied, getting to his feet. “I likes Star Wars lots.”
“And Batman,” Riley commented, noting the T-shirt the boy was wearing. “That’s really cool. I have one like it.”
The little boy scrunched up his nose. “You can’t wear Batman. You have a beard. You’re growed up.”
Riley grinned. “That’s debatable, but I love Batman. I even have Batman socks.”
The boy gaped. “Me toos! And pajamas. I get them every Christmas.”
“Are you serious? You’re like the coolest boy ever.”
“I know!”
Riley crossed an arm over himself and laughed into his free hand.
“Noah?”
“Uh-oh,” the boy uttered, looking behind Riley.
“Noah, I told you to keep hold of my hand and not to— Oh.”
Riley recognized the voice before he even turned to see who was standing at the end of the aisle. Jesus fuck. She sounded just the same as he remembered and caused his heart to do an honest-to-God cartwheel in his chest. Her name left him as a whisper when he finally allowed himself to turn and found, once he did, that he had to reach out and clutch the edge of the nearest shelf, his legs shook so damned hard.
“Riley.” Lexie’s eyes flickered quickly between Riley and the boy standing at his side. It didn’t make Riley feel any better that she looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her. In fact, she looked plain terrified. “I . . . What—how—how are you?”
Riley cleared his throat. “I’m good.” He tried to smile but it felt forced and tight, and holy hell, did she have a septum piercing? “And you? How’re you?” he stammered. “You look . . . well.”
What a fucking understatement that was. She was beautiful. Her hair was as blonde as it had always been, but now she had bangs that framed her face. The rest of it was long and braided and sat on her shoulder. Her glasses were ones he’d never seen, but they were the obligatory pink he forever associated with her. Despite the frames being thick, they did nothing to hide the blue of her eyes.
She wore a black vest top that showed the ink she’d had tattooed on her arm and shoulder, denim shorts that accentuated her legs, and on her feet? Well. Wouldn’t you know it? Black laced Doc Marten boots. His belly bloomed with warmth. No matter what they had done to each other, said to each other, she was still the fearless girl he’d grown up with, the girl who kicked his ass at every sport or game they ever played, the girl who wouldn’t stand for anybody’s bullshit. Even his.
She nodded sharply. “I’m good.”
“Good.” Riley rubbed a hand across his forehead, where a righteous headache threatened to begin.
“Noah, we have to go.” Lexie held a hand out to the little boy, who, Riley suddenly realized, was the same boy he’d seen with Savannah.
“I found the Skiesswalker lightsaber,” Noah exclaimed, holding it above his head.
“I see that,” Lexie said with a smile she used to save just for Riley. “But it’s not your birthday for another seven months, so put it back, please. Maybe you can ask Santa for it this year. Let’s go—I’ve gotta get back to work.”
Noah sighed but didn’t argue. Very slowly, he placed it back on the shelf and walked toward Lexie on heavy kid Converse feet.
“A fellow Star Wars fan,” Riley commented with an awkward laugh. “He’s being raised right.”
Lexie’s expression, however, was anything but amused. “Yeah. Okay.” She clasped Noah’s hand. “See ya.”
“ ’Bye,” Riley replied. “ ’Bye, Noah.” Noah waved back, but he didn’t turn as he stumbled after Lexie.
“Damn, was that as awkward as it looked?” Tate asked quietly from behind Riley.
“Worse,” Riley admitted. He exhaled and looked back at his brother. “Am I bleeding? I feel like I was just fuckin’ mauled.”
Tate’s smile was small and sympathetic. “No, you’re okay.”
“Christ, I need a beer.” Riley winced with the jolt of guilt that snapped through him when he remembered Tate’s addiction recovery meant he couldn’t drink. “Sorry.”
“Dude,” Tate chastised. “If you need a beer, let’s go and get you a damn beer.”
“I wish I could have a beer,” Maggie complained as she approached, keeping her stare on where Lexie and Noah had exited the store. “Who was that?”
Riley rubbed his beard and sighed. “An old friend.”
Maggie wagged a finger toward the exit. “You know, I’m sure that’s the woman who owns the store Mom and I visited last week.”
Riley glanced at Tate. “Store?”
“Yeah,” Maggie continued, looking around herself for Rosie. “That cool jewelry place. Rosie, come here, please. It’s where I got this ring.” She held out her right hand and wiggled the silver ring on her middle finger. Riley leaned closer to see the word serenity embossed across it. It was lovely, and Riley smiled instinctively.
His gaze cut across to his brother. “You up for taking a trip across town tomorrow?”
Tate grinned. “Why not?”
7
Twelve years ago . . .
“Hey, man,” Riley said as he walked into the kitchen to find Tate sitting at the breakfast bar eating toast. Tate had been home from medical school for a little over a week and, Riley had to admit, it was great to have his brother back. With Dex working in San Francisco and Seb playing every sport known to man after school and during every free minute he had, the house could get a little too quiet.
“Hey.” Riley could feel Tate’s gaze follow him around the kitchen. “You look guilty. What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” Riley answered over his shoulder as he poured cereal into a bowl. But that wasn’t exactly true. “It’s Lex’s birthday.”
Tate crossed his arms on the breakfast bar. “Oh yeah?”
Riley nodded, turned, and leaned against the counter, spooning cereal into his mouth. Tate stared at him, waiting. “What do you need from me?”
Riley craned his neck to look through the kitchen door, checking to see if either of his parents was around. Satisfied that they were alone, he took a deep breath. “Can I borrow your truck?” Tate cocked an eyebrow in question. “It’s to help with Lexie’s birthday present.”
“And your car isn’t suitable?” Riley shook his head. “Dare I ask?”
Riley felt his cheeks heat and his stomach clench. “Best if you don’t.”
Tate shook his head. “Okay, you can borrow the truck on two conditions. One: you clean up any mess before I get it back, and I mean any fucking mess. Two: you pack condoms.”
Riley laughed but didn’t argue with his brother. He’d been planning tonight for weeks and was equal parts excited and fucking terrified. He and Lexie had been officially a couple since their first kiss the night of the dance three years before, and tonight Riley planned for them to take the next step. Of course, since that dance, they’d done more than kiss, but they hadn’t gone the whole way. Riley had remembered Lexie saying something about her birthday and how romantic it would be and . . . well, the truth was, he was desperate for her.
Being friends for nearly a decade, they’d shared so much. Done so much. Experienced so much. Everything except sex. No. Tonight wouldn’t be just sex, of that Riley was damned certain. Having seen and felt parts of Lexie’s body no other man had, Jesus, he couldn’t even imagine what it would
feel like to finally push himself into—
“So what’s the plan?” Tate asked, placing his plate and cup into the dishwasher.
Riley cleared his throat and his mind of the luscious images he’d conjured and shrugged. “Food. Candlelight. Maybe a little wine.”
“You’re seventeen.”
“Your point?”
“You’re drinking and driving.”
“The wine’s for Lex, nimrod,” Riley retorted. “To relax her.” He shifted on his feet under the perceptive stare of his brother. “I know she’ll be nervous.”
Tate nodded as though Riley’s words had confirmed what he had suspected: tonight, Riley was going to lose his virginity. Tate moved closer and crossed his arms over his chest. He’d bulked up some since going to med school and his arms were freaking huge. Riley was more than a little jealous, despite having filled out in size himself. He was six foot two and weighed nearly 180 pounds. Being on the school football team sure had improved his fitness.
“You know you can ask me anything, right?” Tate offered in that calm voice Riley unexpectedly realized he missed.
Riley put his bowl down and nodded. “Yeah.”
“And you’re gonna be safe, right?”
Riley scoffed. “I’m not stupid.”
“Hey,” Tate said firmly. “I know you’re not stupid, Ri. You’re anything but. I just want to make sure you’re okay, that you’re ready.”
Riley gazed out of the window toward the yard fence, struck with the memory of building it with his dad and how hurt he’d been that day knowing Lex was going to the dance with Blake fuckin’ Richards. He smiled. How far they’d come.
“I’m so ready, man.” Riley turned to his brother. “I don’t mean that in the way it sounded. I mean it because . . .” The words pushed their way up his throat. “I love her.”
Tate’s lips lifted at the corners. “I know you do.” He clapped a hand to Riley’s shoulder and squeezed. “Little brother growin’ up.”
Riley shoved him off with a laugh. “Shut up.”
“Enjoy,” Tate added as he threw the truck keys at Riley, left the kitchen, and launched himself up the stairs.
A Measure of Love Page 8