by Danica Flynn
“Uh huh,” I breathed out.
“That good, huh?” he teased.
I shook out of it and pulled away from him. “Don’t be a dick.”
“You should still take that nap,” he insisted.
“Can’t,” I started to explain, but then yelped when he picked me up into his arms and walked into the bedroom. I glared when he deposited me onto the bed. I still hadn’t pulled on all my clothes. I only got so far as my underwear, and now I laid annoyed and topless in the bed.
He joined me in the bed, still naked and sweaty. I couldn’t get over how weird this whole situation was. Like, was I really married to him? And had he really convinced me to give it a couple months before asking for a divorce again? It would have been one thing if we had boned after Eric left me at the altar, but nope, Riley had to be extra AF and married me instead. I mean, Riley was my best friend, but I couldn’t force him to be married to me when I didn’t love him. Well, I did love him, but not like that. At least I didn’t think so. This was so fucked, but right now, I couldn’t think about it. I hadn’t written in two days, and I really needed to meet this deadline.
“I want to,” I admitted, “but I can’t.”
He slung his arm around my waist and pulled me into his chest, my exposed breasts crushing up against the hard lines there. “Why not?” he asked.
I tried not to be so distracted by how good it felt to be held in his arms like this. It would be so nice to fall asleep with him post-coitus, but I couldn’t. “I need to meet a deadline. This stupid-ass wedding put me behind my writing goals. I need a little time to bang out a couple chapters,” I explained.
“Wait, isn’t your book already out?” he asked, clearly confused.
“Book two came out last week; this is book three,” I explained.
“Your job’s weird.”
“Books take a long time. This is the first draft to my publisher, and it will go through a million revisions before it gets published. I’m afraid of turning in the final book in this trilogy and they realize they made a mistake and I have to beg for my day job back.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I’m sure it’s fine. Can’t you write on the plane tomorrow?”
“I probably will, but I need to put in the time right now.”
He loosened his grip on me, and I got out of the bed before he changed his mind and tried to keep me there. It was super tempting to snuggle into his strong chest and go back to sleep. I was super hungover, so writing was going to be hell today, but I had to put the words onto the page. Even if they were bad.
I stopped in the bathroom first and ended up fixing my hair, now tangled from our sexcapades. I pulled it into a messy top knot, and when I came out, Riley had fallen asleep. Good; that meant I wouldn’t have any distractions.
I put on a pair of comfy leggings and a t-shirt, grabbed my computer and headphones, and tip-toed into the adjoining room. I shut the door to the bedroom quietly behind me and set myself up at the counter in the kitchen. I couldn’t look at the kitchen table without thinking about what we had just done. I put on another pot of coffee, put my headphones on, and started writing garbage.
Every line, every piece of dialogue I wrote wasn’t working. I had to push through and get something on the page, but I was unhappy with what I was writing. There was a gaping plot hole in the ending, but I couldn’t figure out how to solve it. I flipped back to the novel outline to figure it out, but I couldn’t figure out how to solve it without completely rewriting this book. I was screwed.
I tried to just write to get it all out, but I got distracted by my phone buzzing across the counter. I had been ignoring it, but the buzzing pulled me away from my thoughts.
Three missed calls from Eric. Four text messages.
What the fuck?
ERIC: My sister told me you got married anyway. What the fuck?
ERIC: To Aaron fucking Riley???
ERIC: Tell me this is a joke.
ERIC: Have you been fucking him this whole time?
Anger swelled up into my chest. How dare he? He left me at the altar, and now he was accusing me of cheating on him. My fingers flew in a rage across my phone screen.
ME: How about…go fuck yourself?
I sent him a picture of my left hand with my ring finger sticking out as if I was giving him the finger to show him the wedding ring.
ME: Yeah, I got married to someone else instead. Not that it’s any of your business.
ME: I’m coming home tomorrow. Let me know when you get your shit out of my apartment.
Immediately my phone started ringing, and I didn’t even need to see the caller ID to know it was Eric. I didn’t know why I bothered to answer it; maybe I wanted closure.
“What could you possibly want?” I seethed.
“Are you serious? You seriously up and married someone else?” my ex asked on the other line.
“You LEFT me. LEFT ME! You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to continue a relationship with me.”
“I didn’t want to get married!”
“Do you know how much money you have cost me? I had to cancel our honeymoon!”
He was silent for a moment.
“Yeah, I guess you didn’t think of all the repercussions of what you did to me.”
“I never said I didn’t want to continue a relat—”
“You really think we would continue on after you left me, completely embarrassed me in front of everyone? You really thought I would come back to you?”
Again, silence.
“Did you ever even love me? I mean, fuck, Eric, we haven’t had sex in three months!”
“Wait…really?” he asked, with a hint of confusion in his voice. That sealed the deal; he hadn’t noticed either. How did I ever think I could have had a happy life with this man?
“Oh my God, if you didn’t notice, clearly something was wrong. You know what? I’m glad this happened. I’m glad to know that this never would have worked out between us anyway. Have a nice life!”
“Answer me this first. Did you sleep with him?”
“Who?”
“Riley!”
“Yeah…I married him. That’s kind of what people do on their wedding night.”
He sighed on the other line. “No, I mean before.”
“Are you asking me if I cheated on you? No. What do you take me for?”
“You didn’t?” he asked. He sounded surprised, like he didn’t believe me. I think that hurt more than him leaving me at the altar.
“Not while we were together. And it’s not any of your business who I fucked before we got together, like it’s not your business now.”
“So you did have sex with him? I knew it.”
“It was in high school!” I argued. “We lost our virginity to each other. What, am I supposed to be jealous of every girl you slept with before you met me? I don’t know why I’m still talking to you.”
He was silent on the other line for a moment, and I contemplated hanging up on him. I was steaming mad. I wanted to cry. Who the fuck did he think he was? Accusing me of cheating on him when he left me on what was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. Now, I was married to my best friend, who I really shouldn’t have married, but he was kind and gentle, and he wanted to see if we could make something real out of this marriage. My life had spiraled out of control in the span of twenty-four hours.
“Do you hate me?” he finally asked.
I had to be honest with him. “A little bit,” I admitted. “Can you blame me?”
He sighed again. “No, I guess I can’t. Katie gave me hell for what I did. I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I was gonna back out.”
“If you didn’t want that, you should have never asked,” I snapped.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he finally admitted.
“Good. Have a nice life!”
“I’ll be out of the apartment in a couple days, earlier if I can,” he told me and then promptly hung up. What a dick.
I wanted to chuck my phone across the room. I had gotten closure, sure, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. Being left on your wedding day like that sucked, and now I was even more confused because I immediately rebounded with Riley!
Maybe that was the real reason I had asked him for the divorce. Not that I couldn’t be happy with him, because maybe in time we could find happiness in each other. I think the real reason I wanted to get a divorce was because it felt like a rebound, and I knew it would only end in heartbreak. Most of all, I was afraid of losing my best friend if this trial marriage of ours didn’t work out.
I heard footsteps in the bedroom, and the door creaked open. Riley stood in the doorway, clad in a pair of jeans now, but no shirt. His eyebrow was raised, and his face was scrunched up in confusion. I set my phone down on the counter and ran a shaky hand over my face. Riley crossed the room towards me and put his hands on my shoulders.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.
I shook my head and waved him off. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? Just got into a fight with my ex, but it’s fine.”
“Yeah…I heard you yelling a lot. Everything okay?”
I shook my head, and he pulled me towards his naked chest. I don’t know what it was about that move of his, but it seemed to relax me. I sighed into him and rested my head there. I was comforted by the thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat underneath me.
“What happened?” he asked while he stroked my hair.
I sighed and pulled back so I could look up at him. “We fought, he thinks you and I have been fucking the whole time anyway, but he said he’d get out of my apartment in a couple days.”
Riley frowned at that. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that…”
“My apartment?”
He nodded but looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I mean...should you come move in with me now?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I like my place in Fishtown.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know, but I have a big condo in Old City.”
I looked at him sternly. “I would like to keep my own place.” I left off the part where I said, “In case we decide to get divorced anyway” but from the look on his face, I think he knew that was what I was thinking about.
“Did you get any work done?” he asked, changing the subject.
I sighed again. “Not really. I’m stuck on this book. I think I need to completely rewrite it.”
He checked his watch. “Why don’t you let me take you to dinner tonight? We have an early flight tomorrow, so write for another hour, and we’ll go at seven, okay?” I opened my mouth to protest, but he put a finger on my lips. “For once in your life, Fi, don’t argue with me.”
Normally I would have argued some more, but something inside of me let it go. “Okay, sure.”
Chapter Six
RILEY
I was honestly surprised she agreed to dinner, so I wasn’t going to try to push the whole living arrangement thing. I was hoping that maybe I was worming my way into her heart since she had initiated having sex today, but maybe she just needed something physical. I was not complaining, but I didn’t know how I was supposed to go about showing her that I really wanted this to work.
It had been rash of me to offer to marry her, but I had been in love with this woman since we were teenagers. She always thought I was another dumb jock who had hoes in different area codes, though. My life was complicated, and sure I had some one-night stands…okay, more than some. There had been a couple girls in the past couple years that I thought could be something, but they couldn’t take my schedule.
I watched her return to her laptop, pulling the headset over her head, and the room filled with the tip-tapping of her fingers flying across the keyboard. I walked back into the bedroom and threw a t-shirt over my head. I took out my phone to see if I could get a reservation somewhere nice. It was kinda iffy, but someone must have recognized my name because I was able to get something at one of the nicer sushi bars. I knew she loved her sushi.
After hanging up, I saw a text from my teammate and probably my best friend on the team, Benny. Benny was a massive, brown-skinned, six-foot-four left-winger from Boston, and we had bonded over being two of the few Americans on the team.
BENNY: When you coming back from that Vegas wedding?
I scratched the back of my neck. I wasn’t sure how I was going to break it to my teammates that I had randomly gotten married. I sighed but figured I had to come out and say it.
ME: Uhh….her fiancé flaked on her…so I kind of married her instead???
BENNY: What in the actual fuck? Are you serious?
I ran a hand over my face and groaned. Benny was my best bud, so I knew he would give me shit for this, but I had no idea how I was going to break this to my other teammates. I texted him back immediately.
ME: Yes.
BENNY: Wait…this is the girl from home that you’re legit in love with?
ME: Yup.
BENNY: What the actual fuck?!?
What the fuck indeed. Not like Benny had any room to talk; he was in love with our teammate TJ’s twin sister. Too bad the curvy Canadian hated his guts. Women didn’t like it when a guy stared at their tits and asked if they were real. Poor Benny.
I flicked over to the sports news and looked at a few articles that talked about me and whether if Philly was getting the right value in me. One article was calling for me to be traded because I was taking too many penalties. As if I didn’t know that! As if it was news to me that you could take a bad penalty and cost your team everything?
I threw my phone down on the bed in anger and sank onto it in defeat. Like I didn’t know that this was a bad season for the team. With Metzy in the net, we had a good chance; we just had to work really hard. I shouldn’t have missed my flight home today. I could have used an extra day on the ice for conditioning to get my head in the game. We had been on a hot streak, but it came to an end, and it was like we lost our mojo.
I shook off the emotions and picked up my phone again to try to watch some video to see what I had been doing wrong in the last couple games. I wanted to work hard to stay in Philly and stay with the Bulldogs. My contract expired in July, but since I was an older player, I had a feeling they would let me become an unrestricted free agent and let another team waste their money on me. I really wouldn’t have blamed them if they did. But I loved Philly, and I needed to stay there if I wanted to make my wife fall in love with me.
I set my phone on the bedside table and got up off the bed. I went over to my suitcase and pulled out the extra suit I had brought. I hadn’t been sure which one to bring for Fi’s wedding, so I brought two. It was good to have a spare sometimes. I took the iron out of the closet and ironed out the wrinkles, then hung it up in the closet. I checked my watch; we still had plenty of time, and I heard Fi tapping away at her keyboard, so I didn’t want to disturb her. I rubbed a hand across my face and felt the annoying scratchiness of my beard coming in, so I went into the bathroom to shave and fix my hair.
By the time she padded into the bedroom, I was suited up and adjusting my tie in the mirror.
“Oh, should I dress nice?” she asked.
“I guess so. It’s Vegas, sweetheart.”
She put a finger on her chin, as if in thought, but then went into the closet and rifled through some clothes she had hanging up in there. She pulled out a black dress with thin straps and looked over at what I was wearing before changing into it. The dress hugged her in all the right places and showed more cleavage than was normal for her. My mouth watered, and I knew if I didn’t unclench my jaw, we would never even leave the suite tonight. I watched her slip on a pair of heels before shaking her bright red hair out of the messy bun.
“I think I need to straighten my hair and do my make-up. Can you give me like twenty minutes?” she asked.
I straightened my tie again. “Sure.”
She eyed me from across the room. “Are we even going to make it to dinner?
”
“What?”
She smirked. “You’re looking at me like you want to throw me down on the bed.”
I coughed into my hand, and she laughed again before coming into the bathroom to plug in her straighter. She wasn’t wrong, so I got out of the way before I did anything too bold. I shuffled into my suit jacket and offered her my hand when she finally came out of the bathroom. Surprising me, she took it, and I guided her out of the suite.
“So, where are you taking me?” she asked when we stepped onto the elevator.
“Sushi.”
Her eyes lit up. “I love sushi.”
“I know.”
“You actually listen to me?” she asked with a surprised look on her face.
I rubbed my thumb on the back of her palm. “Of course I do.”
“Oh,” she said and looked down at her shoes.
My gut told me she was thinking again about whether we should call this thing off. The idea of her leaving and not giving me a chance to show her that I could be the right man for her gutted me. She didn’t try to wrench her hand out of mine, though, so I thought that was at least a good sign.
The silence filled me with dread, but once we got into my rental car, the music from the stereo made it not as noticeable. I focused on driving, even though I could tell that her mind was on something else.
I knew something was up when she was still quiet after we were seated at the restaurant. She sipped slowly on a glass of red wine, staring off at something behind my right shoulder. I reached across the table and put my hand on top of hers. She jerked suddenly and looked at me with a sheepish look.
“Sorry,” she offered.
“Where did you go?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I get in my own head sometimes. I’m trying to figure my way out of this plot hole.”
The waiter brought our dinner, and I smiled at how happy she looked once she started eating. Huh, maybe she was just hangry. I took a sip of my wine and speared a California roll with my chopsticks.