Thirty-Nine

One month later

“Rye, got any rum?” Erika’s request battled to be heard over a loud playlist stuck in the eighties and the rowdy laughter of Ben’s buddies from the diner.

Riley squeezed through the tight crush and past Casey, sitting tall on Piper’s tower of suitcases. “Not unless Scott brought some.” She lowered the music’s volume slightly on her phone, hoping Ben’s twenty-fourth birthday party wouldn’t get shut down by her ever-vigilant super. He usually had circus class Saturday nights, so hopefully he was swinging on a trapeze somewhere for another hour.

Overdressed in Prada, Erika tapped a carrot stick against her empty cup of prosecco. “I’m craving daiquiris.” Her eyes traced the twinkly strings of fairy lights stretching the short distance from the top of Riley’s ladder to her photo wall, a glittery arch of stars hung for Ben’s celebration.

“I can hit the liquor store downstairs. Riley, need anything else?” Erika’s fiancé loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

“You serious?” Riley inched past Piper heating up spring rolls in the toaster oven and laughed, pointing at the wine and beer bottles congregating around Ben’s birthday cake. Baked by Maggie, its icing was beginning to melt in the June humidity. “I didn’t realize BYOB meant ‘bring your own bar’ to you two. Scott, you shouldn’t have to buy more.”

“Hey, it’s the least we could do. One day when you’re a big-shot casting director in Hollywood and I’m a has-been hockey player, you can repay the favor.” Scott kissed Erika’s temple, weaved past Ben’s co-workers, and slipped through the door.

“This is nice.” Erika surveyed the room.

Riley wiped perspiration from her brow and adjusted the falling strap of her pink sundress, a steal from the bargain bin three summers ago. “It feels like a party in an airless elevator. My fan can only do so much—”

“No, I mean, nobody here likes hockey—well, except you. No one’s hassling Scott about their playoff collapse. It’s a relief.”

“My relief was when Leia and Tyler declined my invite.”

“It was nice you asked her. Did you invite Ben’s roomie, the stripper guy?”

“Hunter? He’s working—bachelorette party.”

Pouting, Erika bit her carrot stick. “Aww, no Eggplant then…”

“Eggplant?” Piper butted in, leaning her chin on Riley’s shoulder. “Overrated. I never find it satisfying.”

“I know you don’t!” Riley giggled, her eyes catching Cicely, Piper’s date, talking to Ben by the window. He looked through the crowd and, spotting Riley, raised a smile and his bag of mini pretzels.

Piper’s glittery lip raised into a snarl.

“What’s the matter?” Riley grinned at Ben.

“Those dudes, munching chips and slopping beers on my bed.”

Riley’s loveseat creaked, swamped with Ben’s bike courier friends wiping Cheeto dust on their jeans and vaping, filling the room with a fruity chemical stench. “Shit, I told them twice!” With a scowl, Riley squeezed past Casey to confront the smokers.

He slipped into the space she vacated. “Bet you’re missing dorm life now, Pip.”

“I am! Rye’s great, letting me move in for four months, but she talks in her sleep, and it’s like a 1960s commune here—no stove, no A/C.” She pulled her asthma inhaler from her halter dress’s pocket. “People fuck in the shared shower! It’s like biohazard central in there.”

Shoving up his sleeves, Casey gulped. “Ugh, the horror.”

“You could’ve rented a room somewhere else, you know.” Erika’s face pinched. “You’re not the only one inconvenienced—Riley didn’t have room to breathe before you moved in.”

Erika’s jealousy over Piper’s friendship with Riley was flaring again. Casey ducked the firing line and faked interest in Riley’s photo wall (now Josh-free) and Piper’s tray of appetizers balancing on the chest of drawers, PEZ-less for the party.

“Hey! I am helping with rent, you know.” Piper shook her inhaler forcefully. “I’m not a freeloader bugging her for beauty products, unlike some people—”

“Hi ya!” Ben, with Cicely in tow, interrupted the brewing argument. “You…all right? Who needs a drink?”

Erika’s face softened. “Shouldn’t we be asking you, birthday boy?”

“I’ve got a nice buzz on, cheers!” He raised his bottle of Stella to Erika. “Thanks to you and Scott helping with the booze.”

“Anytime.” Erika smiled sweetly.

Piper rolled her eyes and puffed her inhaler.

“Pip”—Ben bumped her shoulder—“lovin’ the appetizers. Thanks, babe.”

Piper inhaled deeply with a smile as Casey returned, eating a samosa. “My pleasure! So, how was the planetarium?”

Ben’s eyes lit up. “It was brilliant! We went to Grand Central Station after to see the constellations on the ceiling. Stunning. I miss seeing stars—it’s almost impossible with the skyscrapers lit all night.” He smiled up at the twinkly lights. “Riley was determined I’d see some, even if they were strung across this room.”

“If you want stars, try Broadway, baby!” Casey joked. “Speaking of, gone on any auditions?”

“Ah…no.” Ben scratched the stubble shadowing his chin. “The diner’s been insane and on days off, I’m doing the courier thing.” He sipped his beer. “I keep getting lost. I punctured two tires and almost got punched by a cabbie, but apart from that, I’m a natural!” He smiled.

“How can you be a bike courier?” asked Casey. “Doesn’t your visa—”

“I get paid cash,” Ben mumbled quickly behind his bottle. He swung the conversation in a different direction. “So, hey, did you lot see Maggie’s cake? It’s a triple-decker!”

“The icing’s sliding off.” Erika fanned her face.

“I hope she’s okay.” Ben’s forehead creased. “Riley said treatment left her exhausted this week.”

“How many more to go?” asked Cicely.

“One or two more, not sure.” Piper shuffled aside to allow Scott, arms full with a box of bottles, to access the counter.

“Ah, boozy reinforcements.” Riley rejoined her friends, the vapers banished to the fire escape.

Ben looped an arm around her bare shoulder, his damp dress shirt—the same one he’d worn to the Salute the month before—cooling her hot skin. His hand slipped forward and for a brief moment, his fingers caressed her arm. This is a first. A jolt of heat sizzled up her spine. “Come on, your cake’s turning into a chocolate puddle.” She grinned. “Want to blow out your candles?”

“Sure!” He squeezed her shoulder and let go.

They eased past their friends to the counter where Riley lit two candles and led the room in an exuberant “Happy Birthday” followed by hollers of “Speech, speech!”

Ben beamed. “I never thought I’d celebrate my first New York birthday with all you lot…” He raised his beer. “Cheers, guys. Thanks to Maggie for this awesome homemade cake”—he locked eyes with Riley and took a deep breath—“and Riles, the girl who took me under her wing when God knows she had every reason not to. To quote those magnificent old biddies from The Golden Girls, thank you for being a friend. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“Aw!” Cicely clapped.

“Make a wish!” Piper and Casey shouted.

“Or two!” said Erika. “Why stop at one?”

Riley bit her lip. Two wishes, that’s easy…wait, you idiot—you can’t wish on someone else’s birthday candles!

Ben closed his eyes and, with a quick puff, blew out the small flicker of flame. The partygoers cheered and fell back into conversation. Riley set a handful of forks and a knife on top of a stack of dollar-store paper plates.

“I meant what I said,” Ben whispered in her ear.

She smiled up at him like no one else was in the room. I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.

• • •

The crowd at the shabby eighties club was wasted and sweaty, and one by one, Ben’s birthday posse peeled away into the early hours of Sunday morning, spare the last holdouts: Riley, Piper, Cicely, and Casey. Taking a break, Casey went to the men’s room while Piper and Cicely finished their drinks.

“Aw, look at them.” Cicely clutched a weaving Piper, keeping her upright as they watched Ben and Riley twirling and laughing to “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)”. “They can’t be drunk—all that spinning makes me barfy just watching them.”

“I wish she’d stick her tongue in his mouth or grab his ass or SOMETHING.” Feeling no pain, Piper gulped the rest of her cocktail. “This SONG, it’s—hic—Riley. She’s a freaking record, repeating on a—hic—loop: ‘We’re friends, we’re friends.’ FUCK FRIENDS. She should FUCK BEN!”

“Shh!” Cicely giggled. “They might hear you! But yeah, I agree. I think he’s into her big time. She’s all he talked about. Why haven’t they hooked up?”

“Pfffft!” Piper blew out her lips. “I’m tired of being a spectacle, a spect—hater…spectator.” She weaved forward. “You watch—I’m gonna make magic happen. It’s time to—”

Casey’s head leaned in. “To what?”

“FUCK!” Piper jumped. “You scared me!”

“To go home,” said Cicely.

“Er—hic—ya.” Piper’s sticky hand playfully smacked Casey’s face. “Bwit Twit! You look sssssoooo sleeeepy.”

He swatted her away. “I had a Red Bull when you lot downed shots.” He fist-pumped the air. “I’m buzzed. I could throw shapes for at least another hour—”

“Caseyyyyyyy.” Piper’s eyes widened like she was trying to force him into a mind meld. Her sparkly eyeshadow had migrated, creating silver splotches on her cheeks. “Cice and I need you. It’s…”

“Nearly 2:45,” Cicely filled in helpfully. “Pip’s staying at mine, so how ’bout riding the subway with us?”

“NOW!” Piper stomped her flats.

“What? To the Bronx?”

“Ten points to Gryffindor! Duh!” Piper stumbled out of Cicely’s grip, blocking Casey’s view of Riley and Ben. “You staying at your parents’, right? Makes sense to go togetha—pleeeeease?”

“Coffee’s on me next time at Peet’s.” Cicely batted her enviable eyelashes. Unlike Piper, the dance graduate looked as neat as she had when she arrived at Riley’s apartment.

“Fine! I’ll go, but…” Casey peered over Piper’s slouched shoulder. “Let’s walk Rye home first.”

“No!” Piper foisted her empty glass into the hands of a passing guy. He stared at it like she had handed him a dirty diaper. “She’s got Ben. She’s ffffine.”

“Is she?” He narrowed his eyes. “That bloke—I’m not sure about him.”

Piper smirked. “Yeah, he’s a shapeshifter, all right—aren’t ALL actors? The Tischie ones are…”

“If he wants to act so badly, why isn’t he doing anything about it?” Casey scrolled on his phone. “I was on Facebook. He has like, ten friends—including you, Riley, and Maggie—but no Mark Keegan.” Flipping the phone around, he shoved it in Piper’s sweaty face. “His Instagram is nothing but food.”

Piper chuckled, pulling the phone closer to her bloodshot eyes. “Ooh, noooo! Ben might suffocate Rye with a roti!”

“I’m being serious! I think he’s lying about Mark. We know more about Keegs than he does. Something’s off.”

“Oh, stop acting like an overprotective brother.” Piper shoved Casey’s phone into his chest. “He’s a nice guy, okay?”

Cicely nodded. “He’s lovely! We talked about my move to London to try the West End.”

“See?” Casey pursed his lips. “He never talks about himself.”

Piper’s eyes leapt to the ceiling and fell back to Casey, a jolt of clarity making her stand up straight. “Lay off, Mr. Conspiracy Theory! Cice and Ben just met, for fuck’s sake! He’s not going to download his life story, is he?”

Cicely nodded in agreement.

“So, say goodbye now—or not. Do what you want, but I’m not dragging Riley out of here if they’re having fun together. She needs that right now. Got it?”

“Fine,” he muttered.

Casey followed Cicely and Piper through the crush, not waiting for the song to end.

“Dancing queens! Hic. We’re goin’.” Piper threw daggers at the gyrating elbows jabbing her back. “Have fun, catcha laters.”

“Oh, okay.” Lightheaded from twirling around, Riley breathlessly giggled at Ben, wobbly-kneed and reeling. “We won’t stay much longer. He has to open his present.”

“A present?!” Unsteady, Ben bumped into Riley, his hand skidding down her back. “Hell yeah!” He flicked his hair from his eyes. “Goes without saying, I’ll walk Riles home.”

I’d like to do more than walk… Dizzy, Riley leaned into his chest as Ben’s fingers pressed into her lower back, his warmth setting off goose bumps all over her skin. Does Ben…? Or is he holding on for balance? Looking up, she caught Ben smiling at her.

Casey squinted, his eyes darting between the pair. “Rye, can I talk to you a sec?”

“Sure.” She left Ben saying goodbye to Piper and Cicely.

“I can stay.”

“Case, you can go, really.”

He frowned. “Look, you don’t need any more guy drama, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Overprotective, much? “I appreciate your concern, Case, but I’m a big girl, and Ben and me…it’s not like that. I’ll be fine, really…” She looped her arm through Casey’s, pulling him back to their friends. “Thanks for coming, guys. Get home safe, okay?”

Piper teetered into Riley, planting a sloppy smooch on her cheek. “All yours, Ben!” Her hazy eyes tried a wink but failed. She resorted instead to her old standby, a high five, but her aim was off and she swatted Ben’s cheek mid-sway.

Cicely cringed and pulled her away. “Okay, night everyone!”

“Bye.” Casey followed behind, glancing over his shoulder.

Ben didn’t move until they were gone. “Casey doesn’t like me.”

“Don’t be silly! C’mon!” Riley grabbed Ben’s arms, encouraging him to jump back into the fast-paced song, but DJ Bob chopped it off mid-chorus with a new tune, slower in tempo with a steady drumbeat and sparse keyboards.

“Oh!” YES! A slower song. Riley giggled as people scattered and a brave few coupled up. This reminds me of junior high. Ew, boys! Run for it.

Ben leaned in, the music urgent and yearning. “You thirsty?”

Not for booze. Damn! Her shoulders slumped. Ben wants to run for it. He was holding on for balance—stupid girl. “Not…really.” Her eyes darted, following the mass exodus they were about to join.

“Um, do you…” Ben rubbed his jaw like it would help loosen the words from his tongue. “Wanna dance?”

Want? Yes! Yes! YES! Her eyes widened, but she gave a noncommittal nod. “If you do…” She suppressed her smile with a quick question. “What’s this song?” Slipping her arms around Ben’s neck, he reciprocated, embracing her lower back.

“Uh, it’s by The Cure.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he moved closer, his cheek resting softly against her temple.

Gentle and hesitant, they swayed together, each movement inviting Ben’s stubble to press and tickle. His fingers shifted, searching her lower back for a safe place to land.

Is he uncomfortable? Being this close? Riley pulled back, meeting his eyes with a smile. It’s okay, Ben. I won’t break. She leaned in again, tightening her grip behind his neck, her confident embrace working its magic, helping him relax.

While I’m here… She nuzzled his neck and inhaled deeply. It’s so subtle…citrusy aftershave mixed with…Ben! And sweat. Holy. Hell! A pang in her chest drew her closer, pressing against him as his words from the party teased. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

She sniffed again and her eyes rolled closed, surrendering…to his scent, his words, and the music, its gentle beat competing with the pounding beneath Ben’s shirt. His pulse is racing. Lyrics about home and love—flying to the moon—joined Ben’s declaration swirling in her mind, hugging her heart and taking her somewhere she had never been.

Ben’s fingers tensed, digging into her lower back. She pressed a soft smile into his shoulder, the firmness lurking underneath his damp shirt making her catch her breath. He tilted his head into hers, his weight comforting and welcome as they disappeared into the music…and each other, as if the song had been written just for them…their breaths rapid, their hearts whirling, everyone else on the dance floor vanishing as the singer crooned, “I will always love—”

Mid-chorus, the room plunged into stunned silence.

“Hey!” “What the fuck, Bob?” Sharp voices erupted around them. “Not a-fucking-gain!”

Riley slowly pried her eyes opened. Fuck! Her pupils recoiled, assaulted by the brightness of the venue’s fluorescents flickering to full strength. Her flinch prompted Ben to lift his head and pull away, but his half-lidded gaze was soft and dreamy, not quite in the room despite the jeers from dissatisfied dancers infiltrating their ears.

“Party’s over, folks.” DJ Bob’s gravelly voice, a souvenir of his two-packs-a-day habit, snarled over the complaints. Dust particles mocked the crowd, dancing alone in the beams of the colored spotlights.

Riley squinted, finding Ben’s eyes waiting for her. “What was that song? It’s gorgeous.”

“Lovesong.” He sighed, and then his lips curved into a sweet smile. “Let’s get you home.”