Rivers

by S. L. Scott

  I’m too offended to remain lying down, so I stand and start pacing. She sets a glass down on the coffee table and points at it. “You should finish that before bed.”

  “Why are you doing this to me, Meadow?”

  Standing in her pajamas, she crosses her arms over her chest. “As your sister, I’m obligated by blood to tell you the truth. As your best friend, I’m trying to break it to you as gently as possible. I saw how he looked at you. I saw how he hung on every word you spoke. But you know what else I saw?” This is clearly a rhetorical trick question, so I cross my arms over my chest in some sort of weird protest and refuse to answer. “I saw how you looked at him and how you hung on his every word. It’s not over for you two. And if I was a wagering woman . . . okay, fine, I’ll bet you five dollars that this is just the beginning.”

  “Hope you’ve saved your lunch money, sister, because I ain’t buyin’ it.” I sit down, not even sure if I’m making sense. She’s right on one thing—my head is fuzzy. I slip my legs under the blanket. “You know what I am buying? Sleep. Good night.” I drop my head back on the pillow dramatically and close my eyes. “Hit the lights on your way out.”

  “You’re being stubborn, and you know where that will leave you? Alone in singledom.” She hits the lights, but before she shuts her bedroom door, she adds, “Destiny.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what brought you two together tonight. Give into your fate, sister. Good night.”

  I’m left with my mouth hanging open. I open my eyes and lift on my elbow to look over the arm of the couch. As soon as the light from under her door goes out, I sit up.

  “Destiny,” I grumble. She might be right, though. All the hate I’ve held on to over the years disappeared as soon as hope in the form of soulful eyes that have never looked at me as less than perfect showed up with whiskey shots, beer, and a smile I couldn’t deny. Rivers Crow owned my heart for what feels like most of my life, and tonight it’s clear—he still does.

  I wrap my arms around my middle, hugging the shirt to me in an attempt to hold myself together, but I can’t. All I thought he healed tonight shatters all over because if tonight is all we’ll ever have again, it’s not enough to mend this broken heart. I break down in the quiet of the night where no one has to see my nightly routine. I touch my lips; they’re still raw from the scruff that looks so sexy on him. It felt even sexier as it scraped across me, marking me as his, even if just for the night.

  I wanted him. I wanted him touching me in all the ways I remember, the ways I dream about, the ways I crave. No man has ever made me feel like he does, which is why the pain of that day still bears down on me with the weight of the universe.

  He broke me. I can’t forget that, but I don’t hate him. I want to so much, but my heart can’t seem to rage the way my head wants to. The fact of the matter is this. Losing Rivers wasn’t the only thing that has hurt me. I’ve been down and have had to pick myself up many times over. And I always get up and fight for another day.

  I was the one who had to face my mother when my father couldn’t. I was the one who had to give her an ultimatum as she rolled her suitcase down to the end of the driveway where her new boyfriend waited to take her away from us forever.

  I was the one who was strong enough to go back inside that house and face my sister one week before her senior prom and tell her I would be there when her mother chose not to be.

  It was me who faced the criminals extorting my dad during the lowest point in his life. It was me who begged for more time to pay back the debt. It was me who . . .

  My tears fall, exposing my quiet sobs.

  When I had nothing left to sell, I sold myself.

  The bedroom door opens, and Meadow comes out, silently sitting next to me on the couch. She puts her arm around me and pulls me to her shoulder. She thinks I’m crying over Rivers, so I let her. I can’t taint her with my sins. “You’ve closed your heart off for so long, Stel.” With her arms around me, she says, “But you deserve happiness.” I lean back and look at her. Her smile is kind, and I remember how much she’s been there for me over the years. She doesn’t know everything I’ve been through and never will, if I have my way, but she knows how much I loved Rivers. “Do you know why Rivers is back?”

  Shrugging, I shake my head.

  She says, “For you. I know it. I saw it tonight. He feels just as awful as you do. What I don’t understand is why you won’t talk to him.”

  “What if I talk to him and nothing comes of it but more pain?”

  Taking my hand, she gives it a little squeeze. “That’s exactly why you need to talk to him. Sober. Heaven knows I was ready to hump Ridge right there in the middle of Ego’s for all to see. Would I do that sober?” She shrugs and then laughs. “Yeah, I would, but that’s me.”

  I laugh because she always manages to lighten my mood.

  She continues, “But you, dear sister, have always been more guarded since . . . since him.” She hugs me, wrapping her arms around me. “So it’s okay to take things slow. Just don’t go so slow that the door closes on this second chance.”

  When she stands up, I lie back down, and say, “Don’t get ahead of yourself with this second chance business. There are more than a few conversations that need to be had that probably won’t end well.”

  “Do what it takes, but don’t waste a day. Ridge told me they’re only in Austin for a short time, and then they’re going back to LA again.”

  “Yeah, no pressure there. Anyway, that’s the exact reason I should forget this whole thing.” I wipe the hem of the shirt over my cheeks. Looking behind me, I shake my head. “That’s just it. If he’s just going to take off, where does that leave me, but alone again?”

  “You’re going to have to dig deep on this one. I’m not saying you should date him again if you guys can’t get there, but isn’t it worth a conversation?” She taps the wall. “Get some sleep. Also, drink your water or you’re going to feel like shit in the morning. Good night for real this time.”

  “Good night.” God, I’m thankful for my sister.

  I sit up enough to drink half the water before I set it down again and let my mind swim in a replay of tonight.

  Spinning in his arms with his lips pressed to mine, I’m lost to the stars and the light, the weight of him against me, and the soaring of my heart.

  I gasp when I sit up, my heart racing as my eyes dart around to land on something familiar, something that will clue me in to where I am. The curtains. The sunny yellow and white fabric never did block the morning sunshine. Meadow’s apartment.

  Looking around, it must be early. There’s still a golden hue to the light that wants to break in. The bedroom door is still closed and the tiny apartment quiet. I exhale the initial emotion that startled me awake and then touch my feet to the floor.

  My heart continues to race as I stand and then immediately regret it. Holding my hand to my head, I make my way to the coffeepot and turn it on. Dashing quickly into the side door to the bathroom, I splash water on my face, but I wish I could take a shower. I’ll do it later. I don’t want to wake Meadow this early on a Saturday.

  Back in the kitchen, I stick the mug under and let the machine work its magic. Filling it with a lot of creamer, I stir and head for the shared patio area for this block of apartments in the front.

  It’s not private up here since it overlooks the parking lot, but this is the side where the sun rises. I sit in one of her two plastic chairs and sip my coffee. Most residents of the complex are still asleep since it’s the weekend. There are a few people starting to jog or getting an early start, but I’m alone for the most part.

  “Good morning.”

  I freeze with the mug to my lips. Surely, that’s a figment of my imagination. There’s no way Rivers can be here. I don’t know the time, but I know it can’t be later than six thirty. Leaning forward, I peek through the railings and look down.

  I might swoony-sigh a little. Okay, I do. Out loud. I almost hate mysel
f for finding him so attractive. The eyes don’t lie.

  Standing up, I lean against the rail. He’s just one floor down, so fortunately we don’t have to yell to be heard or the neighbors might skewer us. I ask, “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “Meadow told Ridge you were staying over last night.”

  That little traitor. “How do you know where she lives?”

  “She’s listed online. She should really fix those privacy settings. By the way, I like that shirt on you.”

  “What?” Looking down, I realize I’m wearing his band’s shirt. Shoot. This doesn’t make me look hung up on him . . . nope, not at all.

  Totally does.

  “Nice panties too.” Oh God. I jump in surprise and spill a little of my coffee. Ugh. I forgot I wasn’t wearing pants. I turn to go back inside, but hear, “Wow. There’s that great ass.”

  He’s utterly incorrigible. I roll my eyes because he’s got some nerve commenting on my ass as though it’s here for his enjoyment. But I like the compliment . . . ugh. I hide my smile, not wanting to feed his ego. “Go home, Rivers. I’m not coming down, and I haven’t even had a sip of my coffee yet, so it’s way too early to do this dance with you.”

  “No worries. I’ll come up cuz if there was one thing we were always good at, it was dancing together, even if just verbally.”

  I open the front door to hurry inside, but I realize if I shut the door, he’ll knock and wake up Meadow. I huff my annoyance and leave the door open while I slip my jeans back on.

  His tall frame fills the doorway, drinking me in like a man who needs water. Then that smile that won me over years ago—boyish charm mixed with bad boy sexiness—appears, and I’m weak to him once again. With his hands resting on either side of the opening, he leans in without breaching it. “About last night . . .”

  10

  Stella

  Although Rivers has seen me naked more times than I can count, I still rush to zip my jeans. He hasn’t seen me in years after all. My body’s changed, just as his has. Lord have mercy has his body changed. I bite my lower lip just thinking about his broad shoulders and what I can tell must be amazing abs based on those magnificent biceps I tried and failed to squeeze last night. I release my lip and mentally berate myself for even thinking about this infuriating man.

  With his eyes on me, though, naturally, I struggle. Damn. It’s like the world is conspiring against me wearing clothes with him around. Feeling the weight of his stare on me, I peek up.

  “Need help?” he asks.

  “Nope. I sure don’t. I have it all under control.”

  He saunters in anyway, owning the room, his body, and judging by how the lower half of my body clenches, he owns mine too. Still.

  Damn him.

  One finger lifts my chin until our eyes meet. “Let me try.” Kneeling in front of me, his face is level with the front of my jeans . . . and what’s under that denim.

  I suck in a breath, and my words fly out on the exhale, “You really don’t have to—”

  “I know. But I like the view. And I’m pretty good at working a pair of jeans.” He looks up at me with a smug grin on his face and winks.

  My gaze goes to the door in annoyance because I see his ego is as big as it ever was. He really shouldn’t affect me like he does. I zoom between hot and cold with him, not able to settle in the middle. He’s screwed my emotions all up between the past and the present. “I just bet you do.”

  The zipper slides down, and then he slides it with ease all the way back up. “There you go. You just needed me to work you over.”

  “Or a pair of pliers.” Not wanting to give him too much credit. His ego might explode. “I thought it was broken.”

  Standing in front of me, he says, “You’d be surprised what you can fix with the right touch.”

  “You do that a lot.”

  “What?” His deep voice carries. So I grab him and drag him back to the porch and prop the door open with my shoe.

  “The way you talk to me in double meaning. Everything seems to have two purposes—one that serves the situation and one that serves you. Do you really think I’m that naïve not to notice?”

  “I don’t think you’re naïve. Quite the opposite. I think you’re very aware of what’s going on here.” Annnnd he smirks.

  “Instead of leaving me in suspense, just tell me.” I wave my hand between us. “What’s going on here?”

  “We’re getting to know each other.”

  “Oh, no, no. I’m not looking to travel down memory road with you, so you’re wasting your time if you think showing up here unannounced looking all handsome will make me just forgive and forget, you can move along to someone who appreciates a smooth talker because that’s not me anymore.”

  “You think I’m handsome?”

  Scoffing, I say, “Figures that’s your takeaway.”

  “It was a joke, albeit a bad one.” He sighs. “Look, Stella, last night was not as awful as you want it to be.”

  “Why would I want that?”

  “Because then you could close this door and feel justified doing it. Right now, you’re struggling to find your footing because you don’t hate me as much as you once did. This is a good thing. This is a starting point.”

  My patience wears as he gets closer to the rawer parts of my heart. “Just say it, Rivers. What do you want?”

  “You got your say. I want mine.” His expression is missing the arrogance I expected to see. Instead, it’s just him with a crease between his eyebrows, worry in his eyes, and a frown. He shouldn’t have to beg.

  I just dumped my thoughts on him without asking, but he’s taking my residual animosity and greeting it with reasoning. “Okay. That’s fair.”

  “Generally speaking, I’m not a liar.” His jaw tightens. He closes his eyes and seems to struggle with what he should say. “But I lied to you. I’m sorry. You were my life, and you ended us without so much as a discussion.” I grip the doorknob tighter, my heart beating for the man in front of me as all the memories—good and bad—rush back, making my heart hurt.

  Coming closer, he lowers his voice as if his own pain is coursing through him. “I’m only in Austin for a short time, but I’m only back because of you. I want a chance to explain everything when we’re not rushed to get out the words and we have time to hear them. Then if you decide we’re over, we’re over. I’ll leave you in peace. It won’t be easy, but I’ll accept whatever you decide.”

  I find myself leaning in, wanting to touch him, to ease the lines in his forehead and give him what he wants because he’s not demanding it, he’s asking with his heart on his sleeve. And maybe I’ll get what I need to put this, us, to bed for good. “You’re not going to change my mind, but I’ll give you a chance because I think it would be good for both of us to have closure.”

  “Closure?” The word wounds him as pain flickers across his face. “That’s not what this is about.”

  The last thing I want to do is inject promises into his pain when I’m still cautious and not quite sure what he wants from me. “What is it about then? We’ll never be able to pick up where we left off like nothing happened.”

  “I agree. I’m not looking for that. I also don’t want to rush this conversation.”

  “What do you want then?”

  “A new beginning.” He centers himself, staring directly into my eyes, refusing to be deterred from his goal. “Name the time and place and I’ll be there.” His determination gains steam, and a small smile appears.

  “I’ll figure it out today and text you. Will that work?”

  His grin grows. “That will work.” Leaning down, he kisses my temple, and then whispers, “Thank you.”

  Tilting my head, I brush my cheek against the roughness of his jaw, but I stay right there until both of our breaths come out a little harder. I close my eyes and swallow the emotions building in my chest before I turn and take a step back. “I’ll text you.”

  “I’ll wait for you.”r />
  I’d point out that he did it again, waiting for me instead of waiting to hear from me, but I know what he’s doing, and I can admit I like it. Since this, whatever this is between us, feels so good, I decide to tease him. “I’m going in now, so I can finally drink my coffee, you stalker.”

  He chuckles. “I only pull out my best stalker moves for you.”

  “I’m flattered. Now go. It’s not even seven in the morning.”

  With his hands up, he says, “Going. Going. But don’t forget about me.”

  “I’ve tried but never could.”

  “Good.” I’m sent a wink before he heads down the steps.

  Leaning over the rail to get one more good look at this man, I say, “For whom?” when he appears from the stairwell.

  “Guess that remains to be seen, but I’m feeling pretty damn good right now.” He opens the door of his SUV, and asks, “How about you?”

  I wave my hand. “I can’t tell you all my secrets, or what will be left?”

  “The whole world and when we burn through that, the universe.”

  My knees weaken. He was always a poet with dreams bigger than the lives we were born into. His success comes as no surprise. I just wish I could have been there to watch his star shoot across the sky. “Save your lines for your lyrics, pretty boy.”

  That makes him laugh again. He starts the engine and rolls down the window. Resting his arm out, he looks back once more at me and gives me a little wave.

  I stand there for a few seconds before I go back inside, not ready to see him leave. When his car pulls out of the parking lot, I actually mourn the loss. He was once my life. We’re not kids now, so we need to talk as adults and then move . . . and then . . . and then what? I think that’s the crux of the problem. A few days ago, Rivers Crow was but a painful memory. But now, he’s in my present.

  Beginnings. That’s what he wants. Logic tells me I’d be stupid to even consider it. “You’ve closed your heart off for so long, Stel. But you deserve happiness.” I hear what Meadow is saying, but will letting him into my heart equal happiness?