Twenty-Seven

Three days later

“Thank fuck it’s Friday!” Piper, wearing a thin black sweater and a flouncy champagne-colored tutu, did a pirouette in the middle of the crossing at Third Avenue and St. Mark’s Place. “Now, let’s come up with a scheme to get out of dinner with Casey’s family after his documentary screening. Did he tell you what he did?”

Riley finished typing a text to Ben.

That noisy, huh? I’m glad your 2nd day’s going well—despite the headache. I’ll stop by Sunday. She hit send and squinted into the warm sun. “You only have to pretend for one night. If they think you’re his girlfriend, they’ll stop bugging him to find one.”

Piper hopped onto the curb, pulling her MoMA tote into her waist. “What should I fake to get out of it? Pick one: strep throat, a raging UTI…shingles?”

“What is shingles?” Riley’s ponytail bobbed and swayed as she stared into her backpack, her hand pawing past books, her wallet, a phone charger…

“I don’t know, but I’ve got it bad.”

“We can’t bail.” Passing the piercing place on St. Mark’s, Riley met Piper’s eyes before diving back into her bag. “Tell you what—I’ve got half a bottle of gin in my apartment. I’ll bring it along for Dutch courage.”

“You never buy gin.”

“Josh does. It must’ve rolled under my loveseat at Christmas. Shit! Where are my keys?!” Riley upended her laptop, digging…

“Well, tickle my tits ’til Tuesday. You can enjoy that gin together…fucker.” Piper glared over her sunglasses and bumped Riley with her tulle-covered hip.

“Huh?” Nose deep in her backpack, she looked up. Head down, scrolling on his phone and brandishing a cheerful bouquet of red roses that popped against his black Fighting Hawks t-shirt, Josh stood steps away in front of her building. He’s here? NOW? For a split second, she felt like she was floating, teetering atop a massive rollercoaster before the breath-sucking plunge. Shit.

Her silence drew a smirk to Piper’s pale lips. “Be quiet, little rabbit. We can turn tail and run for the hills?”

Lowering her backpack, Riley’s eyes slipped from the garment bag flung over Josh’s shoulder to the duffle bag at his feet. “He’s not supposed to be here for three more weeks.”

Josh glanced up, his eyes skating down Riley’s dress to her bare legs, a loved-up grin rising through his scruffy beard. “Hey, baby girl!”

Riley gave him a tight smile. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I came for the weekend. I couldn’t wait ’til your graduation.” He stuffed his phone into his khakis, his eyes jumping to Riley’s left, all joy evaporating. “Piper.”

“PuckHead.” Piper wrinkled her nose and tilted her head away, planting her hands on her hips. She knew he hated that nickname.

Josh ignored the defiance radiating from Piper, his smile returning as he proudly laid the bouquet in Riley’s hands. “So…surprise!”

He never buys me flowers. “Wow. They’re beautiful.” Piper snapped her gum. “Thanks.” Riley wrapped her arm around his neck, drawing him close. Pressed between their chests, the roses’ cellophane crinkled, but Riley squeezed Josh tighter, ignoring the thorns lurking beneath. She met his lips, their teasing warmth and the loneliness in her heart urging her to go deeper. Josh obliged, his tongue beckoning, slow and tender. His hand traced her hip, up the back of her black and white floral dress and into her hair, his fingers gently tugging.

Piper gritted her teeth behind a plastic smile. “I’m still here, you know.”

Pulling away, Riley peered over her shoulder, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail. “Pip, sorry. Tonight—”

“What’s tonight?” Josh squeezed the handle of his garment bag.

Piper ignored him. “Nah, forget it. My shingles are a bitch.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“You better.” Piper swiveled in her flats, her tutu bouncing around her hips with each stomp down the street.

Josh whispered in Riley’s ear. “You’re mine—finally.”

• • •

Backpack landing with a thud, Riley flipped off her flats and shoved her long sleeves up to her elbows, the cellophane-wrapped roses crunching in her arms with each shift of her body. “I wish I knew you were coming. Casey’s documentary screening’s tonight, and I’m scheduled to work tomorrow…” Mid-frown, she eyed the Fun Dip packet from Ben on the counter, triggering a memory. Ben’s blue tongue…

“Can’t you say you’re sick or something? Babe, I’m only here for two nights.” Josh hooked the garment bag on the back of her door and yanked his t-shirt over his head, lobbing it past his duffle, a pool of black settling on the fluffy rug. “Jesus, this shitbox is even smaller than I remember—hotter, too.” Storming past Riley, the floor squeaked under his pounding size twelve Nikes. He swatted the curtain away and gripped the bottom of the window, his naked back muscles flexing impressively as the weighty wood and glass stuttered upward. No grunts or heavy exhales escaped through his lips. Typical Josh. Impatient, overtly physical, dominant—all words that could also describe him between the sheets. “This weekend will be one of the last we spend in this sauna. Good riddance…although it does have one advantage.” He scratched his patchy facial hair.

Exasperated, Riley set down the flowers and tugged the V-neck of her dress. “What’s that?” She took her phone from her pocket and texted Casey.

Josh here. Don’t hate me—can’t make it.

“You’re always half-naked.” He turned around, his heated gaze sliding down Riley’s body. “Take it off, babe. Let me see you.” His hand skimmed over the bulge already pressing through his khakis, triggering a sharp inhale.

Riley pressed her lips together. I’ve missed being held, touched, but…will it be different this time? What if it’s not? There was only one way to find out. She slipped her phone in a pocket. “Let me see you.”

His hurried hands flipped open his belt as he moved closer, enraptured by his fiancée, hands aloft, untying her hair. She scooped up handfuls of it, teasing and coaxing. Come closer, closer…

Josh kicked off his khakis, his flimsy boxers giving Riley an eyeful of how eager he was.

She held up her hand. “Wait.” For once, he obeyed.

An ache throbbed in her chest. Show me, Josh. Show me I’m right, saying yes. Show me you’ll always be here for me—that you can be tender. Her fingers skated down her dress, meeting the swell of her breasts and the line of buttons trailing down toward the skirt. One by one, she set them free, letting the soft cotton fall away, opening herself up. His stare grew heavy and wanting like he couldn’t wait to slide his hands beneath her bra, hungry to caress the silky skin of her breasts and feel her stiffen under his touch. You want to lose yourself in me, don’t you, Josh? She skimmed her fingers over her black satin bra, feeling her nipples respond. Would Josh take his time, be attentive like he used to be?

An appreciative grin grew across his cheeks as she lifted the hem of her dress…

BUZZ!

The raised pocket twitched against her bra. Shoot! Phone. “Oh! I need to check…”

Josh’s smile collapsed.

She dropped the material and fished out her phone, the screen lit with a text from Piper.

You HATE roses! Three years and he still doesn’t GET you!

The words kicked her under the ribs. Riley smiled tightly and cleared her throat, turning off the phone and tossing it onto the counter.

“Who was it?”

“Wrong number.” She lifted her dress and tugged it over her head.

As it fell to the floor, Josh claimed Riley’s shoulders, pressing her against the ladder leading to the bed. Her fingers trailed down his six-pack, sparking memories of unhurried trysts early in their relationship. She smiled. “This reminds me of—” But the words barely left her lips. Josh’s mouth sucked her neck as his hands yanked down her panties. She gasped and let them fall, her hands pulling at his underwear and taking control of his arousal, sprung free from his boxers. She wrapped her hand around him, tightening her grip. “Josh, slow down…” His lips leapt to hers and Riley rocked into him while he tore at her bra, fighting with the clasp until it gave way and the straps fell down her arms. Letting him go, Riley dropped her bra to the floor.

“Baby…” He panted. “Take me in your mouth.”

She shook her head. “No, let’s—”

“I’ll get a condom.” Josh kneeled down, rifling through her toiletries box, tossing soap and makeup aside until he spotted a square wrapper.

Riley’s chest rose and fell, her hands curling around the ladder behind her back as he put on the condom. Prove it to me, Josh. Prove I’m doing the right thing. Prove we can get back to old Josh, old Riley, like it used to be…when I loved you…

Josh stood up, taking Riley’s face in his hands. “I want you so bad.”

She let go of the ladder, tugging him closer, her hands reuniting with the curves of his hard triceps. “I want to kiss for a bit…we’ve got all night.”

He pressed tiny kisses down her forehead and nose, slowly, lovingly, reaching her lips, which were parted in anticipation. Staring into her eyes, his hands swept down her neck to her breasts, his breath quickening the farther they traveled.

This is more like it. Riley leaned into him, wrapping her leg around his hip.

“I love you, Rye.” His left hand took a detour, curling around her ass as he pushed inside her, hard.

Riley cried out and clutched his back, riding each deep thrust and roll of his hips. She was determined to make their physical passion for each other mean something more, but would her heart listen?

• • •

I can’t budge. I’m trapped. “Josh?” Riley whispered. “You’re asleep—already?”

Face down in the nook of her neck, he answered with a long rumbling snore that tickled her skin.

“Damn.” Crunched against the wall, she wriggled, but she couldn’t shift the weight of his 215-pound body pinning her to the twin mattress. The only way is up. One-handed, she shoved a sculpted shoulder off her chest. Josh stirred, his snores cut off by a sharp snort, but even with a little breathing room, Riley had no space to shift. Thanks, wall! She lowered him back down. Even if she could push him off, there was nowhere to go. The bed wasn’t made for two adults, especially when one of them was a six-foot-two, broad-chested hockey hunk—one who was lying like a starfish with a muscled leg dangling over the edge of the mattress—and waking him…no. She could feel a throbbing hardness against her thigh. It didn’t take much for Josh to get turned on, even in his sleep, and if she woke him, he would be raring to go. At this hour, Riley didn’t feel like having an argument or an orgasm; she just wanted sleep.

The raucous shouts of early morning drinkers burst through the open window, and a slight breeze ballooned the curtain before sucking it back into the frame. She dipped her chin, catching a glimpse of Josh’s face tucked into her neck. He looked peaceful, almost smug. I wish I could fall asleep satisfied. Sex with Josh was always athletic, like he had something to prove. They’d done it twice, both times standing up—Josh’s go-to position. The first sesh wasn’t pleasurable or comfortable, and if the ache was anything to go by, bruises from the ladder were already blooming across her back and ass. Their encore was better. Off the floor against the coat and garment bag-covered door, arms and legs wrapped around him, Riley held on tight as Josh thrusted away, his hazel eyes darkening as his breathing became more labored. Anyone passing in the hall would’ve known exactly what they were up to. Josh’s momentum made the door creak and whine, and he groaned loudly when he came. And—surprise—Riley came, too. When was the last time he made me come? Months…last summer, maybe? Maybe longer. She always felt closer to him, more connected—meant to be—in those vulnerable moments after the waves of shared pleasure washed over them, tangled in a heap of arms and legs, hurried breaths and whispered promises…but moments like tonight were mostly in the past, before post-graduation possibilities beckoned, before the distance grew both physically and emotionally. Their lives were changing quickly, creating obvious cracks in their relationship. These fractures were becoming more pronounced, turning into fissures filled with new hopes, old dreams, and renewed fears about growing up. Riley’s gaze left Josh and landed on the ceiling, inches away from her nose. Will marriage repair the rift? Or make it worse? Shuffling through the night’s events, Riley bit her lip. Maybe, maybe…not? If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well work through this…

Unable to move, her eyes gently closed. No matter the final score, you have to think of Mom. You’ll marry him because he loves you, and because it’s the only way you can help her. A tear escaped her lashes and slipped down her cheek.