“You staying for dinner?” River asks.
I shake my head. “I got the gardening call, so you must’ve gotten the dinner call. Besides, I’ve got a date.”
I want to take the words back as soon as they pass my lips. I should not have said that, but I was so distracted with the whole Kyle thing that it slipped out.
River smells blood in the water. Mine.
“A date? Who’s the lucky guy?” he asks, prodding gently and teasing for now. “The gardener?”
Your best friend!
But I can’t tell him that. I don’t want to tell him that. At least not yet.
“Oh, uh . . . nobody special,” I say, hoping it sounds believable.
It must work because River frowns. “Then you shouldn’t go out with him. You deserve the best, Riley. The most special.”
That’s . . . actually really sweet. I wonder if River thinks Noah is special. They’re best friends, so River has to see Noah’s good qualities.
I think about confiding in him, the words on the tip of my tongue.
It’s Noah.
But I don’t say it. That’s something Noah and I need to discuss and decide together. Especially since I think the big brother vetting might be a little more personal this time than some random guy Mom introduced me to.
“Thanks, River. Can we keep the whole date thing quiet, though? I don’t want to get Mom’s hopes up,” I joke with an eye roll.
“Maybe,” he drawls out. “What’s in it for me?”
He’s kidding. Sort of. “How about when Mom tries to match you up with the new seamstress who’s making the living room curtains, I’ll help you out too?”
River pales. “Is that really why she asked me to dinner?”
I shrug so I don’t have to lie. “Seems to be her MO today, so there’s no telling who’s gonna show up to your dinner. I’m sure you’ll like her, though. She’s probably sweet . . . and nice . . . and smart.”
River groans. “Those are all code words for ugly, Riley, and you know it.”
I hold my hand out. “I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine.”
He shakes on it, and I tell him goodbye, asking him to tell Mom bye for me too. Yeah, I’m a wimp, but I’ve got to get ready for my date, so I hustle to my car and nearly peel out before Mom wants to go over how I could’ve made a love connection with Kyle.
That distracted comment to River about my date is going to come back to bite me in the butt. I know that. But at least for tonight, I got out of there free and clear.
I’m halfway home before I realize that I didn’t take a single picture today and won’t have anything to post to push that drama-filled photo down in my feed. But I do decide right here and now that I’m not going to read those comments when I get home.
I’m going to get cleaned up and have a lovely evening with Noah. Without Mom’s interference, River’s interrogation, or my followers’ commentary.
Tonight is just for me, Riley Watson.
Chapter 14
Riley
We must be jinxed. It’s the only explanation.
Three nights.
Three long, straight nights, and still we haven’t been able to get what we both want.
I went into our date Sunday evening with every intention of being ‘I am Riley, hear me roar’ and doing exactly what I’ve been wanting to do with Noah.
The universe had other plans. Plans that had nothing to do with the dates Noah organized or our growing desperation.
I know he wants me. I can see the hunger burning in his eyes as soon as he sees me when he picks me up. And I can feel it haunting his kisses as he lets me off at the door. He knows I feel the same way.
But the universe keeps stepping in the way, laughing at the irony of trampling all over our best-laid plans.
Laid. That’s exactly what I want to be.
On the date after gardening with Mom, I told him about Kyle and my mother’s ham-fisted attempt at setting me up. I thought Noah might be upset, but he laughed it off, saying he’s glad my mother cares enough about me to mess things up by trying.
And the date was great.
We went to the movies and hid out in the back row, making out like teenagers, kissing quietly and ignoring the on-screen laser blasts, flying superheroes, and major explosions. Then, just as we were leaving, someone rear-ended Noah’s SUV, and the mood was ruined while we waited for the cops.
“I want your insurance information!” the woman yells, pounding on Noah’s window. “Do you know who I am?”
“Ma’am, you hit me,” Noah says calmly as I check to see that the doors on the SUV are locked. This woman’s batshit and one breath away from that ‘let me speak to your manager’ type of entitled. “Please return to your car.”
“You don’t tell me what to do!” the woman orders.
Thankfully, a security guard showed up a minute later, and the cops soon after that. But the mood was ruined.
Then, we tried staying in the next night . . . only to have Raffy turn into Ralf-y when something he ate disagreed with his tummy. By the time we cleaned up the huge puddle of puppy puke, neither of us was feeling particularly sexy. Thankfully, Raffy felt fine later, and the vet said he’d probably just scarfed up something that didn’t agree with him.
Last night, we didn’t even get that far when Noah had to cancel, saying that Lady Elisa had called him while he was on the way to pick me up. There was some sort of emergency at Life Corp with BlindDate. He didn’t get back to his place until midnight, even though all he could do was watch a bunch of systems administrators reboot and fight off an incursion from a bunch of hackers or something. Luckily, it worked, and the app is fine. Better than fine with its new security.
But Noah and I are balancing precariously on the edge. Our texts are steamy again, but they’re no substitute for the real thing. And while he’s naturally risk-averse and I’m image-conscious, I’m about ready to say screw it all and meet him for a quickie in the car on his lunch break.
And that’s a bad idea. A really bad one in the day and age of security cameras, phone recordings, and viral videos.
Which is why I’ve decided to be the captain of my own destiny and carpe the hell out of this diem by taking control of tonight’s plans.
I look around my apartment, making sure everything’s good. Raffy’s staying the night with Loretta, who’s giving him the full spa treatment and keeping him overnight in full puppy luxury.
In a total sign of our friendship, she didn’t ask why Raffy needed another sleepover so soon, though I’m sure she expects an explanation at some point.
There’s a knock at the door, and I give my fisheye a quick glance to see Noah looking sexy as hell in a dark suit, his hair slicked and his shirt partially open. He looks delicious, suave, and powerful, and I know I’m doing the right thing as I unlock the door and open it, keeping myself behind the door.
“I came straight from work,” he says, and I know he’s ready for tonight too. Even if he doesn’t know what I have planned.
“Come in,” I tell him, smiling from around the door. “How was your day?”
“Now? Much, much better,” Noah says, his eyebrow lifting. “Why are you behind the door?”