The Blind Date

by Landish, Lauren

  Hope—what an odd emotion, one I haven’t known well, but a short time with sunshine beaming down on me, A.K.A. time with Riley, and it damn near bubbled up inside me to overrun any doubts.

  She said she’s in.

  I’d been ready to go her immediately. In fact, I’d already hopped up from the couch and headed to my closet to grab my shoes when she’d said she was out. And then other new emotions had shown up in a blink. I’d nearly gone crazy with worry and jealousy, thinking she might be on another Blind Date until she said she was out with friends.

  Five seconds and a few words. That’s all it took for this girl to take me from maybe not cocky but confident and turn me into a jealous little panting pile of testosterone-fueled worry. That’s what Riley’s done to me, and I felt like a damned fool afterward.

  Of course, Arielle’s told me about their Crew outings, and though I know they’re nothing but easy fun with good friends, it was still all I could do to not ‘randomly’ wander by whatever place they were hanging out. It wouldn’t have taken much to figure it out. Hell, I could’ve texted Arielle and asked where she was, and she probably would’ve invited me to join them. More than once, she’s tried to get me to stop by and hang out with her friends in order to inject a little levity into my life.

  But I stayed away last night, waiting and biding my time. And making plans for tonight because planning is what I do.

  The first step was a good morning message, telling Riley that I dreamed of her last night. It’s not a ploy, it’s the truth.

  And then we messaged back and forth a bit, with basic ‘what’re you doing’ type stuff. I purposefully don’t ask anything too deep because I don’t want to scare her off, not before tonight. Not before she actually gives this a chance.

  She sent me a picture of her yellow-painted toenails in answer. I don’t know what it is about Riley and her lower body, but this woman’s going to turn me into a full-on leg and foot fetishist at this rate, with her cute socks, tiny toes, and curvy calves.

  And now, it’s time for me to make my next move. They say the stomach is the way to a man’s heart. I’m betting that’s true for women too. Or at least I hope it is when I knock on Riley’s door again, this time with cheesecake and some type of blueberry muffin dog biscuits they sell at the bakery for Raffy. I actually spent as much time trying to decide what to get Raffy as I did picking out the cheesecake.

  We didn’t talk about what we’d do tonight—go out or stay in? But we need to talk, I know that much, and I’ve thought about what I want to say, how to plead my case and get more than an ‘okay, I’m in’ from Riley. She doesn’t do anything that simply, and I want her full-throttle, the way she was in our messages, unfiltered and bold. The openness before she realized Mark was me and that we have a history. She might’ve dismissed that on Friday, but there’s got to be something to it because she’s all but avoided me in the years since.

  Though I suppose River and Arielle don’t hang out either, so maybe I’m putting too fine a point on it, giving that old conversation and those insults more weight than I should? But Riley’s eyes glittering as she ran from the bookstore flash in my mind, and I know this is going to take more than ‘I’m sorry’ to get more than ‘I’m in.’

  I’m going to have to work at gaining Riley’s trust, but I’m up to the challenge.

  Before I get out of my car, I take a moment to collect my thoughts as I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. I know I look good in a white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled halfway up my forearms, with dark gray slacks. I was going to go with black, but I decided the gray was just a little less funereal.

  I also realized that I might need to seriously brighten up my wardrobe if I’m going to spend time with Riley. It works fine at Life Corp, but looking at it now, I realize I spend most days looking like one of the Men in Black.

  But more than my outfit, what strikes me is that my eyes are filled with light, almost as if that hope inside me is visible. I always thought that ‘eyes are windows to the soul’ thing was pure bullshit, but maybe not. Or maybe Riley’s already made me more fanciful with her over the top positivity?

  When I knock on the door, I hear the same scrabble of toenails on the tile and yapping, and it makes me smile. He might only be fourteen pounds, he might flop over as soon as you say ‘belly rub’, but Raffy’s a damn good alarm system at least.

  “Noah?” Riley says through the door, and it opens up a crack.

  “Were you expecting someone else? I’m right on time,” I joke, but she doesn’t smile. “I come bearing gifts,” I tell her, holding up the cherry-covered cheesecake enticingly.

  Riley’s door closes, and I hear the chain slide, and a moment later, she lets me in. She’s wearing pale blue jeans with rips along the thighs, a thin yellow tank top, and bare feet, showing off that cute yellow pedicure. I fight the urge to kiss her once more.

  Go slow, man. For all her exuberance, she’s skittish where you’re concerned.

  Raffy, remembering me from last time, immediately starts wiggling his nub of a tail, happy to have someone around to spoil him.

  “You brought me cheesecake,” Riley says bluntly as she takes the container from me and sets it on the kitchen counter. She turns around, and I stand up from where I’ve knelt to sneak Raffy one of his blueberry muffin treats. Riley’s brows go up when she sees her dog drooling over the crunchy biscuit. “And you’re spoiling my dog. Why?”

  I square my shoulders. “He’s important to you, so he’s going to be important to me.”

  She blinks slowly, a tiny line between her brows growing deeper each time her eyes close and open. “I always have something to say, some positive quote or encouraging words, but . . . I’ve got nothing.”

  “I’ll take it as a good sign that I’ve rendered you speechless with my charms.” I offer a gentle smile, and slowly, she returns it.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she blurts. I’m not sure she meant to say it because she clacks her mouth closed, looking horrified.

  “What?” I say in shock.

  Haven’t I made it abundantly clear that I want her? Want this?

  “Look, Noah . . . I’m in. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since . . .” She swallows, as if steeling her nerves before continuing, “That kiss. I’ve thought about our messages as Rachel and Mark, our conversation, about Arielle and River . . . I’ve thought about everything, and I just . . . Why me?”

  Her big blue eyes look up at me, confusion written in the swirling emotions there.

  “Because . . .”

  I pause, stopping myself before I can say something easy like ‘you’re beautiful.’ As true as that may be, it’s superficial.

  I need to be deeper. I need to be honest in the way I was when I thought Riley was ‘Rachel’, when it was words on a screen and not the sheer physical presence in front of me. And honestly, I am not good at this.

  I hate not being good at something.

  But I man up because I have to. Because she’s worth it and I have never backed down from something just because it’s hard. I’ve been thinking about what I want to say, practicing it in my head, editing and revising it so that it’s the best it can be because this conversation might be the most important one I’ve ever had. I’m ready for this.

  Stepping into her, I crowd her space to be close to her, but I keep my hands at my side, not letting myself touch her until I say what I need to say and she understands.

  I inject every bit of earnest truth I possess into my words. “Riley, from the first time I read your profile, I felt a connection between us. I was shocked, and at first, I couldn’t believe it. Hell, the reason I replied was because I just couldn't believe that some AI had found such a perfect match for me.

  “But then we started messaging. And it was like a switch flipped in my brain. I’m proud to say that I love what I do. I like working at Life Corp, and I still have aims for the top of the tower. And for years, I’ve put Life Corp fir
st, burying myself in my work, thriving there and enjoying every moment of it. But the thrill I’ve gotten from my work is nothing compared to what happens when my phone dings and I know it’s you. My heart races with excitement, and I can’t open the message fast enough to see what you’ve said. Usually, I’d be mad at anything that interrupts my work, but I feel like work interrupts me from talking to you, not the other way around.”

  I take a deep breath, letting it out in one long whoosh. That was hard to say, even harder to realize, and I know I’ll need to do some hours of number crunching later to make it up to myself.

  “You haunt me. It guts me that I hurt you when you were just a kid with big dreams and I was so damn jealous I was choking on my own insecurities.” I shake my head, focusing on the here and now and the things I can change. “I can’t believe how open we were with one another in those messages, when you were Rachel and I was Mark. And that kiss?” I look at her lips, wanting desperately to touch them, taste them, but I haven’t earned them yet. “I can’t live with myself if I don’t at least try. We deserve that much. Do you understand?”

  She’s not smiling. She hasn’t smiled once while I’ve rambled on frantically. She looks shell-shocked, her mouth open in a little ‘O’ of surprise and her eyebrows high on her forehead. I can even see the whites around her blue eyes.

  I think she might have blown a fuse. Just when I’m about to start checking for signs of a stroke, she nods slowly and clears her throat. “Okay. Okay, wow. That’s . . . wow.” She fans herself, and I’m still not quite sure she’s okay because she’s repeating words and she’s kinda known for being adept with them.

  And then she laughs, loud and bright and happily, and I think my heart finally beats again.

  “Oh, my gosh, that was amazing!” she shouts, letting a wiggle worm its way through her body. I think she just let my words wash over and through her. And they worked, or at least, they’re working.

  I smile at how adorable she is. I genuinely smile at her utter joy at being told how much I want her, want this. She believes me, thankfully, because I can honestly say that I don’t know if I would be as forgiving of me if she’d said to me what I said to her all those years ago. At some point, I should thank River for covering for me back then so that it didn’t fester inside Riley the way it could’ve. I owe him for that, at least.

  “Now what?” Riley says, nearly vibrating with excitement.

  “Now, we eat cheesecake to celebrate,” I tell her.

  “You don’t want to go out or something?” she says in surprise.

  I shake my head, reaching out and finally touching her, taking her hand in mine. “I’d go anywhere with you any fucking time you want, but let’s stay in. I want you all to myself right now, just you and me. Riley and Noah. I have plans for you, though, Sunshine. Tomorrow night.”

  It’s not a question. It’s not a demand either. It’s a promise.

  “Oh? Is that so?” she sasses back, tilting her head and looking up at me through her lashes.

  I pull her in tightly, pressing my body against hers and holding her hand behind her, locked at the small of her back. One nod from me has her melting into me.

  “And tonight?” she practically purrs.

  I point toward the kitchen with my chin and lift the bag of dog treats in my free hand. “Tonight, we eat cheesecake while Raffy snacks like a king.”

  He must’ve heard the magic word ‘snack’ because Raffy lets out a sharp bark from his dog bed in the corner. His ears are perked up and his eyes are locked on me.

  The little joke and Raffy’s reaction get her to smile, the last bit of what I needed to feel her sunshine flood into my chest. I’ve got a foothold in the door to Riley’s heart . . . and I’m not going to give up until I have the door all the way open.

  But I’ll never, ever hurt her. Not again.

  Riley grabs the cheesecake while I break up a trio of the small muffin-flavored biscuits for Raffy, who’s wagging his nub and doing circles on command for me in return for a tiny piece of a treat. “Good boy, Raffy. You’re scarfing those down like no one ever feeds you, but I know you’ve probably had at least two bowls of kibble today.”

  "Two? More like three,” Riley mutters.

  “Let me fill up your water bowl. Those things might be dry,” I tell Raffy as though he can understand me. Actually, he might. He runs right over to his water bowl and knocks at it with his paw like he’s telling me, ‘It’s right here, and make it snappy.’

  I help myself to the sink, and Riley gives me a warm look, holding up the cheesecake and a spoon. I notice she only has one, and I have no problems with that. I set Raffy’s now-filled water bowl down, and we take the cheesecake to the couch, settling in closely with the cheesecake in between us.

  “So, how’d you know?” Riley asks as I push the spoon through the first bite of cheesecake and offer it to her.

  “Know what?” I ask, and Riley’s answer is delayed as she wraps her lips around the bite of cheesecake. Her eyes close, rolling up and her eyelids fluttering as she moans with a sexy, throaty purr that has my cock surging to full hardness in my pants and my mind thinking of a dozen ways to pull that sound from her again. None of them involve cheesecake.

  “Mmm, so good,” she whispers when she opens her eyes. “That I love cheesecake.”

  “Who doesn’t love cheesecake? But consider that noted.” I mime scribbling a note in an imaginary notebook, but the truth is, I basically have one in my mind. I want to know everything about Riley Watson, from the mundane to the extraordinary.

  “You like cheesecake too?” she guesses.

  I shrug, knowing I need to show this side of me as well. “Growing up, it was . . . a special treat, like once a year for birthdays. And even then . . . let’s just say that even if it’s not real, I still have a fond place in my heart for the Jell-O No-Bake variety. Especially the Oreo one.”

  “Ooh, fancy,” Riley teases, but when she sees my eyes, she leans in. “Promise me something, Noah.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, leaning in until we’re nose to nose. It feels vaguely silly to be this close and not kissing her, but because of that, it makes me smile. Like we’re being intimate without anything sexual. It’s just closeness and comfort with each other.

  “Promise me that when the time’s right, you’ll tell me all about those times,” Riley says. “I know a bit from Arielle’s point of view. I want yours.”

  “I promise,” I tell her, and as though she’s rewarding me for the risk, she takes the spoon and scoops a chunk of cheesecake, offering it to me. I take the bite, enjoying the sweet, tangy flavor. With my mouth full of heaven, it’s easier to tell her, “That bedtime story . . . it was real. It was true. That’s when everything changed.”

  Nobody knows that story. Not the whole thing the way I told it in those messages. My mom knows some, Arielle knows other parts, but Riley . . . knows everything. From my secret shame to my elation to my mother’s sacrifice.

  Riley shakes her head. “It didn’t change anything. You were already an amazing person, just a miniature version.” She holds up her finger and thumb an inch apart like I was a tiny leprechaun that found the money. “And your mom was already a hard worker. All of that was already in place. The money was a resource, not a catalyst.”

  Fuck, this woman is amazing. I tell her my deepest, darkest shame, and she somehow shines a light on it and makes it seem like I was a golden child. And not in a dismissive way that doesn’t respect what I’ve been through, but rather, in a way that accepts it as formative of who I am. Because she likes me, she likes whatever it took to make me . . . me.

  “You were an amazing person back then too,” I tell her, still apologizing for what I said long ago. “And you used your awesomeness to make the world better. For so many. Even me.”

  I take the spoon back, and this time, when I feed her the cheesecake, I lean in, kissing her and tasting the creamy sweetness from her own lips. She leans into me too, the cheesecake between
us forcing us to become a triangle as our lips and tongues explore each other.

  “Mmm . . . that bite was even tastier,” Riley murmurs when our lips part. “How about you try this bite?”

  She skips the spoon, plunging two fingers into the cheesecake and holding them up. Before I can take them into my mouth, she rubs her fingers under her jawline. “Hungry?”

  Fuck, am I.

  I take the container of cheesecake from her, putting it on the small coffee table in front of us, and dive for her.

  I pull her to me, my mouth finding the streak of creamy whiteness on her skin and licking her throat to the point of her jaw. Riley moans when I nibble there, and I want to feel that sound vibrate against my chest. I grip her hips, guiding her to climb into my lap. I can feel her heat, and I know she can feel my hardness. I use my hold on her hips to press her tighter against me, and she arches, rubbing herself along my shaft.

  The cheesecake is gone from her neck and sucked from her fingers, but her skin is just as sweet, so I continue pressing kisses along her neck and up to her lips. Her mouth tastes like sugar and tart cherries, and I savor every stroke of her tongue against mine.

  Riley’s hands go to my shoulders as she finds a rhythm of her own, hips stroking up and down tantalizingly. “Fuck, Riley. That feel good? Use me, Sunshine.”

  She lets out a little cry that gets stuck in her throat at my words, and I think she likes a little dirty talk. Who’d have thought Little Miss Happy Skies and Sunbeams would like that? I can’t wait to see what else she likes.

  It’s been ages since I dry humped through clothes, but as soon as I consider getting less fabric between us, Raffy starts barking.

  “Rowf! Rowf! Rowf!” he yaps, and Riley startles to look at her dog, who’s glaring at us. Actually, he seems to be glaring . . . at Riley.

  “Raffy, you can go to bed if you want to.”

  She points toward the hallway, but the fluffy cockblocker barks again. Looking around Riley, I stare at Raffy, but apparently, I haven’t earned that much cred with him yet. “Come on, man, I brought you blueberry muffin dog biscuits. Help me out?” I plead.