The Beauty of Us

by Kristen Proby

  “I’m not parked far away,” I say reasonably. “I bet no one even notices.”

  She raises the window, grabs her purse, and makes a mad dash for my rental car, getting in as quickly as she can.

  “I haven’t moved that fast in years,” she says.

  “See? No one noticed.”

  I pull out of the parking lot and back toward Starbucks. We go through the drive-thru and I buy us new coffees, then head home. Riley kisses her coffee cup, making me chuckle.

  “I need this.”

  “And maybe a shot of something to go in it?”

  “Nah, this will do.”

  Riley’s quiet as I pull into her driveway and she leads me inside, her flip-flop-covered feet shuffling on the concrete.

  I want to scoop her up and kiss the shit out of her.

  Once inside, she sets her coffee down and then throws herself into my arms, hugging me tightly.

  “I love you too,” she whispers, tightening her hold on me. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  There’s a lump in my chest the size of a grapefruit at her words. I want to ask her to say it again, I want to jump and whoop and freak the fuck out.

  Instead, I kiss her temple and breathe her in.

  She loves me.

  “We don’t have to eat here,” Riley says the next evening when we arrive at Seduction. We’re here at my request. I wanted to come by to say good-bye to the girls.

  “Eating Mia’s food never sucks,” I reply, and kiss Riley’s hand. “I’d like to stick around.”

  She smiles widely and leads me into the bar first, where we find Addie with her husband, Kat, and Cami all at the bar.

  “Look who’s finally come out of their sex cave,” Kat says with a smirk. “Does the sunlight burn?”

  “Ha ha,” Riley says, and then busts up laughing. “Okay, that’s funny.”

  “I wanted to come in to see you all,” I say, and sit in the stool next to Riley.

  “You leave tomorrow afternoon?” Addie asks.

  “I do.” Riley’s hand searches for mine. I link our fingers and squeeze. “So I figured we’d better come in so I can eat a Mia meal and say good-bye.”

  “How are you guys holding up?” Cami asks.

  “It’s not like he’s dying,” Riley says, rolling her eyes. She says the words with conviction, but I know she’s trying to convince herself at the same time. “Or going off to war. He’ll be back soon, and I’ll visit him.”

  “Good,” Kat says with a nod. “That’s an excellent attitude.”

  “What are you guys doing here?” Mia asks as she joins us. “If you say you’re saying good-bye, I’ll throat-punch you.”

  “You know, I’ve discovered that Mia is the most violent of all of your friends,” I say to Riley, who simply laughs.

  “I’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I saw it early on, but she just keeps fueling my theory.”

  “What can I get you guys from the kitchen?” Mia asks with a wink.

  Riley and I both place an order, and Mia excuses herself to go make us something delicious.

  “Are you playing tonight?” Riley asks Jake.

  “Yep, I’m going on now,” he says with a smile. “Stick around for it.”

  “Absolutely,” she replies enthusiastically. “It’s been a while.”

  We move to a table in the main restaurant, near the small stage that Jake’s sitting on, his guitar in hand, and for the next hour, we eat a delicious meal and listen to him. I look around the room and smile with pride. What these women have done here is magnificent. I’ve been in restaurants all over the world, and this is in my top five favorites.

  They’ve done what they set out to do. It’s sexy and fun and romantic.

  “Are you okay?” Riley asks, catching my gaze.

  “I’m fantastic,” I reply, and kiss her hand. “You?”

  “I’m good too,” she says with a nod and a forced smile. She’s been doing that a lot over the past few days as Sunday draws closer. I know she’s dreading my departure as much as I am, and she’s trying to be brave for both of us.

  I also know she’ll break down eventually, whether it’s in front of me or not. I hate that this is hurting us both. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

  But, like her nana told me last week, we don’t get to control who we fall in love with.

  I thought I’d been in love before. I was married, for fuck sake.

  But I’ve never felt like this before.

  Mia brings us a huge molten lava cake with ice cream and two spoons. “Calories don’t count when you’re sad.” She winks and leaves.

  “I don’t look sad,” Riley says to me. “Trust me, I’m working really hard at not looking sad.”

  “You don’t,” I agree, and kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful, as always. But Mia knows you well, and she knows that you probably are sad.”

  “Well, it’s bad form to tell a person that you know that they’re sad.”

  “I didn’t follow that,” I say with a laugh, and take a bite of the hot cake. “Good God, this is ridiculous.”

  “It’s my favorite,” Riley says with a grin. “It’s so fucking good.”

  “I want to strip you naked and fuck you when your mouth is dirty,” I reply calmly, and take another bite. Riley’s gaze whips to mine and her cheeks flush.

  “I wonder what you’re really thinking,” she says, and takes a sip of water. “It’s a good thing Jake’s singing loudly, otherwise every person in here would have heard you.”

  “I don’t care.” I hold my spoon up to her mouth, offering her a bite, which she takes. “I’m not shy about how I feel about you, Riley. It’s not a secret.”

  “Now that we’re not working together,” she says.

  “It wasn’t a secret before. And we may end up working together again. I have a few ideas to pitch to my boss involving Mia and the whole restaurant.”

  “You haven’t told me this,” she says in surprise.

  “I don’t want to get into details until I know whether it’s going to happen,” I reply, and lean in to lick a bit of chocolate off the side of her mouth. “Working together doesn’t have much bearing on my feelings for you. I’m in love with you.”

  “Well, pretty much everything you just said made me wet,” she says, surprising the shit out of me. “So, there’s that.”

  “There’s that,” I repeat with a laugh. “I think we’ll be leaving after dessert.”

  “Thank the baby Jesus.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~Riley~

  There is a soccer ball in my stomach.

  He’s not awake yet, and I don’t want him to wake up and see me like this. I thought that I’d had plenty of time to get used to the idea that he was leaving, but I didn’t get used to it.

  I didn’t get used to it at all.

  We have exactly four hours left together before he has to go to the airport and turn in his rental car before his flight. Four hours to touch him, smell him, hear his voice, and feel his warmth.

  I scoot closer to him carefully, still not ready for him to wake up. If he’s asleep, it’s not this day yet.

  I had no idea it was possible to have so much anxiety over a man. And I think it’s ridiculously torturous that I finally fell in love with an incredible man just to have him have to leave me.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  He stirs next to me and reaches out, wrapping his arm around my waist. His arms are sexy.

  All of him is sexy.

  I’m so smitten it’s almost sickening.

  And I don’t want to stop.

  “You’re overthinking,” he whispers in my ear. “Stop that.”

  “Can’t,” I reply, hoping he can’t hear the tremble in my voice. I’m going to stay strong and not break down until after he leaves. I’ll let myself have a good cry then. In the meantime, I need to stay positive and
encouraging, and I need to be our biggest cheerleader.

  “Do you want breakfast?” His voice isn’t as rough as it usually is when he first wakes up, which tells me that he’s been awake for a while too.

  “I can’t eat.”

  He sighs and buries his face in my neck. “We have to eat, sweetheart.”

  “I will.” I swallow hard and drag my fingertips lightly up and down his arm. “I’ll stress-eat later.”

  “I’m going to get in the shower,” he says. “And then I’m going to pack my things really quick so that’s out of the way.”

  I nod, not able to actually form a response that sounds like anything other than Don’t go! Stay here with me! Fuck your life in L.A.

  But that’s not fair.

  He kisses my cheek and rolls away, walking naked into the bathroom.

  His ass really is stellar. Like, there should be songs written about his ass. Maybe I should talk to Jake about it.

  I smirk and get up, pulling on clothes as I wander around my bedroom. I gather some of his clothes that he’s left in my chair or on the floor.

  “Do you want me to wash your dirty clothes real quick?” I call into the bathroom.

  “No, it’s okay, baby, I’ll wash them when I get home.”

  “Okay.”

  When I get home.

  This fucking sucks.

  I hear the shower shut off and walk into the bathroom in time to see him dripping wet before he reaches for the towel and dries off.

  “Your body is ridiculous,” I murmur, leaning against the doorjamb and watching unabashedly. “Seriously, I don’t think that’s normal.”

  He smirks and tosses the towel aside, then strides to me and hugs me close.

  “You got dressed,” he says.

  “I did.”

  He buries his face in my hair and takes a deep breath. “You didn’t have to.”

  I smile for the first time today and lean back so I can look up at him. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “We have enough time,” he says. He turns away and brushes his teeth. I join him, still scrubbing my pearly whites when he leaves the room with all of his toiletries and I can hear him filling his suitcase.

  He’s rushing about, naked, and when he has everything packed, he returns to me and tucks my hair behind my ear. “There, now I can just focus on you.”

  “I won’t complain about that,” I reply with a smile. “Do I sound completely needy if I say that I don’t want you to go?”

  “No,” he says. “And if you do, then I’m needy too because I don’t want to go either. But I have to. We knew this was coming.”

  “I know.” I nod and then lean my forehead against his chest. “But I think I’ve been in denial.”

  “That’s okay too.” His hands glide down my arms so he can link our fingers. He walks backward, leading me to the bed.

  “I’m already dressed.” I wrinkle my nose and yelp when he simply picks me up and tosses me onto the bed.

  “Your clothes don’t scare me.” He makes quick work of removing my clothing, kneeling on the bed, hovering over me. I can’t stop touching him, grazing his leg hair with my nails, gliding my hands over his side and belly.

  “I like your skin.”

  “I like your skin,” he replies, and finally removes the last of the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Riley.”

  I flush the way I always do when he tells me I’m beautiful, which is often. He kisses my neck as he stretches out next to me, his hands never leaving my body.

  “I’m so thankful that I met you,” he says. He’s moving so slowly, as if he’s memorizing every line of my body. “And I’m incredibly thankful that you decided against the whole friend-zone-only thing.”

  “Well, this would be awkward, for me at least, if we were just friends.” I cup his face in my hands and can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  “I know.” He wipes my tears away and kisses my lips tenderly. “Riley, this isn’t good-bye.”

  “It feels like it.” I hold on to his shoulders as he covers me with his body, cradling his pelvis in mine. “It feels like I’m never going to see you again.”

  “That’s absolutely not true,” he says. “We’re going to see each other, and soon. We’ll make it happen.”

  I nod as another tear falls from my eye. “How can I be so sad and so turned on at the same time?”

  A smile dances over his lips as he rears back, rubbing his rock-hard cock against my most sensitive center.

  “I’m the same.”

  He’s whispering the way he does in the dark, when it feels like we’re telling secrets.

  “I love you,” I whisper to him. He closes his eyes and sinks inside me, making us both sigh in delight.

  “I love you,” he replies before kissing my lips, biting the corner of my mouth, and cupping my breast in his palm, brushing his thumb over my hard nipple. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

  I smile and then sigh again as he begins to move, guiding us both to a steady pace of the sweetest, most amazing sex of my life. This is what it means to be intimate with someone. This is what it means to be in love.

  “This is not good-bye,” he whispers again as he picks up speed, driving us toward an amazing orgasm. “It’s see you soon, my love.”

  I nod and close my eyes, wanting to feel every inch of him, hear every groan and sigh. I need to memorize this to keep with me while we’re apart.

  The doorbell rings.

  “Am I expecting someone?” I ask with a raised brow. We’ve been snuggled up on the couch, watching a marathon on HGTV and some home improvement show with twin brothers.

  “I ordered pizza,” Trevor says as he stands and walks to the door. He pays the delivery kid and carries several boxes into the living room, setting them on the coffee table.

  “When did you do this?”

  “When you were in the bathroom,” he says with a grin. “I got extra because I know you’ll be stress-eating later.”

  “Well, there’s truth in that theory,” I reply with a nod, and frown at the steaming loaded pizza. “There are a million calories in that.”

  “It’s vegetables and bread,” he says with a frown, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You’d probably eat all of these things anyway.”

  “And cheese,” I reply with a saccharine-sweet smile.

  “Fine, don’t eat it.” He shrugs as if it makes no difference to him and sits back on the couch with a large slice in his hand, taking enormously huge bites. “Goof.”

  “What?”

  I laugh and watch as he chews and swallows.

  “It’s good.”

  “It must be, you’re eating it like you’ve been starving for a year.”

  “Well, my girlfriend wouldn’t let me eat breakfast,” he replies. “I think she’s trying to starve me.”

  “I don’t remember her denying you food.” I take a slice of my own and sit next to him, making sure we’re touching from hip to shoulder. “You’re awfully dramatic. Besides, you’re the one who attacked me and we ended up all naked and tangled until noon.”

  “That’s not how I remember it,” he replies, shaking his head in denial. “You attacked me.”

  “I did not.” I giggle and take a bite of pizza. “I was fully dressed, remember? And you stripped me naked and had your way with me.”

  “Well, you were the silly one who put her clothes on,” he replies. “Don’t you know by now that putting clothes on is essentially the same thing as a challenge?”

  “No.” I wipe my mouth off and laugh. “No, I didn’t realize that was the case.”

  “Well, now you do. And like Mother Teresa says, now that you know better, you can do better.”

  A giggle erupts from my throat. “Mother Teresa is dead, and she didn’t say that.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s one of my favorite quotes. Maya Angelou said it.”

  “Well, there you
go, then.” He grins and holds his pizza against my lips, offering me a bite.

  “I have my own pizza.”

  “I’m sharing. It’s romantic.”

  He’s trying to keep things light during this last hour together, and thank God for it. I don’t feel like crying at the drop of a hat anymore.

  “Oh, sorry.” I take a bite of his slice and moan. “You’re right. Yours is better than mine.”

  “When you make that face, it makes me want to—”

  “Let me guess, strip me naked and fuck me?” I bat my eyelashes and he narrows his eyes.

  “You’ve turned into quite the smart-ass.”

  “I’ve always been a smart-ass,” I reply, waving him off. “You just haven’t noticed.”

  “I’ve noticed everything,” he replies, more serious now. “I’m going to check my calendar when I get back to work and we can talk about a good time for you to come down.”

  I nod and finish my pizza. “Okay, sounds good.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, taking my hand and squeezing it.

  “Of course.” I smile brilliantly, refusing to let him see me hurting so much inside. “I’m always okay. And you said it yourself, this isn’t good-bye.”

  “Right.” He nods and stands, cleaning up our lunch. “I should go. I have to turn in the car.”

  “I know.”

  No. No. No. Don’t fucking go!

  Rather than pick up his bags, he walks to me and wraps me up in his arms, holding on tight and rocking us slowly back and forth.

  “Thank you for the past few weeks,” he says, his mouth right next to my ear.

  “I love you,” I reply.

  “I know.”

  And just like that, he’s turned a sad moment into a sweet one.

  “Okay, Luke Skywalker, you’re going to be late.”

  He stares down at me in horror. “It’s Han Solo’s line.”

  “I know.” I punch him lightly in the arm. “I was kidding.”

  He narrows his eyes at me as he reaches for his bags. I walk him out to his car and stand quietly as he loads them in the car. He turns to me and kisses me until my knees are weak, right here in front of my neighbors and God, and then pulls away.