“I’m a fan of yours and I was hoping . . . could I get a picture of you guys with Muggles?”
“Muggles?” I ask, and the woman nods.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have been reassured because I think she’s gotten a bit too much sun today.
“My daughter is a huge Harry Potter fan,” the woman says with a laugh. “He’s just over here.”
Oh, her dog’s name is Muggles. That makes much more sense, and who am I to judge with a dog named Raffy?
I look over, expecting to see a little dog the size of Raffy. Instead, what I see is something the size of a small bear, a Newfoundland. “Wow . . . Muggles.”
“It’s so hard as the weather warms up to keep him cool, but since he’s a water breed, we bring him out as often as we can,” the woman explains. “Don’t worry, he really deserves his name.”
“No problem . . . Noah!”
Noah looks over, and when he sees the woman beside me, he’s already moving this way. When I point to Muggles, he scoops Raffy up protectively and comes over to join us even faster. “Hey,” he says questioningly, trying to get a feel for the situation.
“This is Muggles,” I start explaining.
“Beautiful dog.”
“This nice lady—”
“Stephanie.”
“Stephanie wanted to grab a picture of Raffy and me with Muggles. Can you take the picture?”
Noah nods, more relaxed as he takes Stephanie’s phone from her.
A minute later, we’ve got two women and two dogs posing for pictures together. Muggles is a sweetheart, sniffing noses with Raffy before plopping down contentedly in a big fluffball of dark fur.
My favorite picture has to be with me and Stephanie squatting on either side of Muggles with Raffy sitting on the ground between Muggles’ massive front paws, his chin thrust out like he’s full of piss and vinegar.
“Thanks so much,” Stephanie says when Noah hands her phone back. But now that she’s gotten her pictures, it’s like being that close to Noah and all his oozing sex appeal finally registers for Stephanie. “Oh . . . uhm . . . yeah, thanks. So are you two . . . friends? Or like dating or something?”
Noah meets my eyes over Stephanie’s head. I don’t know what to say to that. We’re definitely dating, but this is a follower, not family. We haven’t talked about that yet because going that type of public is a whole different thing. One Noah needs to be prepared for.
He swallows thickly but smiles warmly at Stephanie. “Or something.”
Stephanie looks from Noah to me, though it seems like she has a hard time prying her eyes away from Noah. She makes a sound of surprise when Noah offers a wink. “Oh! I get it! You might not want to say. Silly me, sorry!” She mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key. “Thanks again, Riley. ’Bye, Raffy!”
She pets Raffy one more time, and he rolls over, offering his belly. Stephanie smiles but walks away with Muggles. Raffy sniffs in displeasure at the rebuke.
We go back to our chairs, and Noah looks around as we sit down. I think his headcount of people has changed from potential dollars and cents to possible threats, even though Stephanie was totally polite. “How often does that happen?”
“I think that’s the first time. Certainly the first time with a dog.”
Noah recoils. “That wasn’t a dog. It was a small bear with droopy jowls.”
“But he was so cute,” I argue.
Noah goes quiet, watching the water for a bit. “You know,” he says after a moment, “if you don’t want me on your feed, that’s okay.”
“No!” I protest, sitting up. “I mean . . . that’s a big step. Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Well, our families know at this point. I mean, isn’t it a thing now to be ‘Social Media Official’, capitalized?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Probably for some people. But this is different. We’re not a marketing ploy, and I don’t want to use you like that. At the same time,” I say carefully, “I try to be honest about my life. That’s the deal. I’m not fake. I tell people when there’s a filter or it’s a sponsored thing. I want people to be authentic, and I want to practice what I preach. But that doesn’t have to mean you want to do that. I’ll honor your wishes on that too, of course.”
He’s thoughtful for a moment, scratching Raffy’s belly.
“I want people to know about us, like our families and your followers, I guess. Because they’re important to you too. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours. I don’t want to be this secret you hide away.”
“Noah, no.” I do not want him to think for a second that I’m hiding him. That’s not what this is. I’m protecting him. People can be vicious behind the anonymity of a keyboard. “How about this . . . let’s do a teaser post. You can read the comments and get a feel for how things go, and then you can decide. No pressure either way.”
“A teaser?” Noah repeats.
“I know just the thing. Lie back,” I direct him, and then I snuggle in between Noah’s legs, leaning back against his chest while he puts his head next to mine. Lifting his chin a little, we get a perfect shot of my smiling face and Noah’s smile from the nose down, a sexy bit of scruff on his chin catching a strand of my hair. Just the right amount of tease.
“And . . . caption,” I tell him, typing quickly. My new favorite sight. Seeing him happy makes me happy. “And . . . post.”
I put my phone down, turning and giving Noah a soft kiss. “There. It’s official. We can let you see what you’re getting into first. And then if you can take it, we’ll do a full reveal when you’re ready.”
“If I can take it?” Noah asks wryly. “And what does that mean?”
“Trust me, you’ll see. But for now . . . if that isn’t the sunscreen bottle pressed against my butt, I think you need to get in the pool again.”
Noah hums and nuzzles my neck. “I will . . . if you’ll join me. I seriously doubt the pool’s any wetter than you are.”
“I’m definitely getting there,” I admit, and he flashes a cocky smile. “Come on, let’s have some fun. I still want Raffy to try the waterslide.”
“Because of course a doggy water park has a doggy waterslide,” he deadpans.
I giggle and get up. That definitely wasn’t the sunscreen pressed against my butt. “Of course there is. This place is fun for the whole family.”
Chapter 19
Noah
“So, Raffy . . . what do you think?” Riley asks the dog as they come in the door. “Think you can hang out here?” She looks at him like he’s going to turn his nose up, spin in place, and stomp out like some snobby poodle. Truthfully, I wouldn’t put it past him.
But Raffy curiously sniffs around my apartment, his tail wagging. He and I have spent a lot of time together over the past couple of weeks, making me one of the humans he knows well. He knows my smell, and this apartment smells like me. So I guess he’s willing to give it a try.
Riley still looks a little worried. “Are you sure he’s okay on your rug? And what if he gets on your couch?”
“It’s fine. I’m sure,” I assure her, pulling her in for a kiss. “And if he’d rather, I bought him a dog bed. It’s over there” —I point to the fluffy, furry pouf the saleswoman assured me was top-tier for dogs— “next to the toy basket, and his water and food bowl are right there. I think I got the right food. It’s in the cabinet, so you can check it.” I point to the basket and then bowls on the rubberized mat in the kitchen.
I think I did pretty well making my apartment a place where Raffy can feel at home, and the saleswoman who was helping me said my dog was a lucky animal. I’d corrected her that it’s my girlfriend’s dog, and she’d said, ‘Lucky woman then.’ But when I look back at Riley, she’s got tears in her eyes, though she’s trying to hide them with her hands.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, gathering her in my arms.
“You did all this for Raffy?” she mumbles into her fists. I nod, suddenly thinking I might’ve
gone overboard. I mean, maybe it’s a lot, but the websites I looked at said new places can be anxiety-producing for animals, and having comfort items can make them settle more easily. That’s all I wanted to do . . . make Raffy feel secure so that Riley would be comfortable here too.
An instant later, she throws her arms around my neck and gives me the sloppiest kiss ever. I love it.
“That’s the sweetest thing ever!”
They’re tears of happiness, salty bits of her joy spilling out of her heart and down her face. I smile, wanting to lick her cheeks to taste that happiness, but I settle for swiping her tears away with a gentle thumb.
Riley goes off in a whirlwind of bliss. “Look, Raffy,” she tells him as she shows him the dog bowls, “these are for you.” Raffy sniffs the bowls, but he must not be hungry. Hopefully, it’s that and not that I bought the wrong food. Riley picks him up and carries him over to the bed, placing him in the middle of the pouf. “This is for you too.” She picks up a squeaky bone and lays it at his feet. He sniffs it once, licks it, and then starts gnawing on it like it wronged him in some way. The more it squeaks, the more he attacks it. The bone is a major hit.
“Tell Noah thank you, Raffy,” Riley tells the dog expectantly.
He looks up from the bone and says, “Thank you.” Well, in Riley’s head he must, because she praises him with pats and loving whispers, but of course, he didn’t say anything because he’s a dog. Not even a bark of appreciation.
But Riley’s appreciation is all I need.
“I know it’s a little early, but are you ready for dinner? I worked straight through today, never stopping for lunch. The last thing I had was my protein smoothie after my run and then copious amounts of coffee all day. I don’t even want to discuss the amount of caffeine running through my veins right now.”
“Sure,” Riley says agreeably, following me into the kitchen. “Why’d you work through lunch? Everything okay?”
We work together in a dance, pulling out the Thai takeout I ordered and putting it on plates to reheat in the microwave.
“Yes and no. River and I have been busting ass, working with the whole team to get the stats up. Downloads and usage aren’t what we hoped they’d be. They’re fine, keeping up with our conservative predictions, but only by the skin of our teeth, and they’re definitely not on the upward trajectory we’d actually hoped for. The plateau is killing us.”
“Meeting expectations is good, though. It means your planning was accurate. If you were way over or under, it’d reflect that you didn’t do your market analysis correctly. And we both know that would never happen,” she teases, knowing me too well. “I mean, I know you want to have higher stats, obviously, but BlindDate is doing well, right?”
“Currently, I’d agree. But there’s a launch period of huge growth followed by stagnation. Standard market introduction excitement. The concern is that if we’re only touching at the numbers with the momentum of the launch, the sustainability won’t be there. And if people aren’t joining every day, existing members leave the app because they don’t get new matches.”
I’m not telling her anything she doesn’t already know. Riley is all too aware of how marketing and social media work, but apps are a different creature, and even a single one-star review can tank a year’s worth of work.
We carry our warmed plates of chicken Pad Thai to the dining table and sit down. Raffy eyes us, hoping to be called over for his own plate of dinner, but this is too spicy for him. He’ll get no table scraps tonight, but I might’ve also bought him a few more blueberry muffin biscuit treats. Just in case I need to bribe him a bit.
“Enjoy the current success. Think back to the day you made those statistical predictions. If Past Noah had been told that you’d hit them right on the money, you would’ve been thrilled. So these numbers are worth celebrating,” Riley says in her sunny, positive way. “As for moving forward, you and River will work it out and get through the growing pains. I have faith in the two of you. Mostly you.” She winks, letting me know that she’s not discounting her brother in any way but is building me up, supporting me, and being a cheerleader for my dreams.
Failure isn’t an option to her, not because things don’t sometimes work the way you want them to but because if it doesn’t happen, it’s merely because something else was meant to be.
Everything is an opportunity in Riley Watson’s eyes.
I wish I could see the world that way. It’s not all fail or succeed, worthy or not now. She is changing me for the better, but it’s an ongoing process. I’d like to think I’m having a positive impact on her too, being a place where she can relax and let someone take care of her for a change. I’m good at that. Taking care of people is where I thrive.
“Thank you,” I tell her genuinely. With a smirk, I agree, “Especially the ‘me’ part. Carrying River is getting to be a pain in the ass.”
Riley laughs, digging into her plate of noodles. “Ooh, you’re in trouble. I’m totally telling him you said that.”
“You think he doesn’t know?” I joke back, enjoying that we can joke about our siblings now that everything’s in the open and our families are on board with us. Not that any argument from them would’ve changed things, but we love our families, and their support makes this easier for Riley and me.
We finish dinner and put our plates in the dishwasher. Riley wipes down the counter, but I notice she’s cleaning the same already-spotless area over and over. I lean back on the cabinet, crossing my arms over my chest.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” I ask.
She pauses, looking over her shoulder at me. “I’m guessing that if you were busy at work today and getting stuff for Raffy, you didn’t look at my page?”
Worry crosses her eyes, a shadow below the light that usually resides there. I don’t like it, not one bit. Whatever’s on her page, I want to slay the dragon that made the little crinkle between her brows appear.
“No, I didn’t have a chance. What happened? Who do I need to kill?” I tease, trying to get a smile from her.
Her lips lift, but it’s a ghost of her usual sunniness. “Remember I said we should see if you can take it? And then decide on whether to do a full reveal of . . . us?”
That pause hurts. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s going on, but it hurts that Riley seems uncertain about us. No, about me . . . if I can take it.
“Yeah, it sounds like I need to see what folks said?”
Riley gets her laptop from her bag and guides me to the couch. I sit down beside her, and she folds her legs, cradling the computer in her lap.
“I just want you to see what the reaction was,” Riley says. “It was something I had to get used to. It takes a lot of getting used to.”
Riley pulls up her social media feed and scrolls down a bit. I notice she’s made two other posts since our pic at the water park, and I look closer. In both of the newer pics, she doesn’t have the slightly pink nose from our time in the sun at the doggy water park. “Did you edit out your sunburn?”
“No.” Riley points out the timing on one post and explains, “You can pre-set a post. It’s one of my weekly prep things. I go through and put together at least seven posts that are pre-set to post daily. Usually, they’re either the daily affirmations or the sponsored posts since most of them are shot a week or more in advance, so those are pictures from before.”
“Our social media team for BlindDate does stuff like that too, but I leave the details to them. I just want the data.” I lean toward her and peck the tip of her nose. “I like your pink nose. It’s cute.”
Riley’s cheeks flush, matching her nose a bit, as she pulls up the post of our picture at the dog park. The first thing I see are the hearts. “Wow . . . twenty thousand likes?”
“A high number, but I’m not surprised,” Riley says with a grin as she cups my jaw. It’s freshly shaven today, no scruff like in the picture. “But the real deal’s in the comments.”
We start reading, and some of them
are really positive. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Riley’s Sunshiners.
Aliceinerrorland- You go, Riley! That’s one good lookin’ smile! Yours? His? Why not both?
TonyToniToney- Riley, I know you’re in the picture somewhere, but *all* I see is that smile. Whoo, boy.
BettieLuvsArchie- Damn, someone used his Aquafresh!
“Maybe we should get you a sponsorship with a toothpaste company,” Riley jokes, and I have to snort. Yeah, I guess I do keep my teeth clean, but no more than anyone else, I don’t think. Just morning and nightly brushing and flossing like dentists recommend.
And then things get a bit naughty . . .
MollyPops- I’mma lick that jaw, nibble them lips, and suffocate you because I don’t hover. If you die, you die. You’ll go with that smile . . . guaranteed.
“Look at this one!” I laugh, pointing at one further down.
Lemonade21167- He better have skills with that tongue because I’m going to glaze that grin like a donut!
“Hmm, I wonder what that even means?” I ask innocently.
Riley grins, elbowing me lightly in the ribs. “I think you know exactly what it means, and nobody’s glazing you but me.”
“Dirty talk some more, baby,” I tease, loving when Riley says things that make her squirm.
But my smile fades as I read the next comment.
HappiBeetz- Faker than The Bachelorette. You pay for him to sleep with you, or is he just for show? #malemodelforhire
“What the fuck?”
We keep reading, and I feel my blood pressure rise. While at least five or six comments in a row might be positive, there’s a sprinkling of one here or two there that are jealous, negative, or just plain hateful.
“How do you handle this?” I ask after seeing bboy13rize64 flat out say if he had Riley between his legs, he’d show her ‘how a real man handles his woman’ and that he’d consider letting me ‘watch and learn’. “Some of these people are plain evil.”
The Blind Date Page 24