“You ever sat on this couch with a girl and not made out with her?” Riley asked as they settled onto the two ends of Derek’s sofa.

He reached for the remote and gave her a glance. “Of course.”

“Who?” She picked two pieces of cheddar popcorn from the bowl she held and tossed them into her mouth.

“Peyton. Hannah. My mom.” He flipped through the settings on his TV to get to the DVR.

Riley laughed. “So the answer is actually no.”

“And now you,” he commented as he settled back into the couch and reached for a handful of popcorn.

Okay, cheddar was good. But kettle corn was better. Riley was right on that one.

“So you’ve never sat on this couch with a woman you were attracted to and not made out?” Riley clarified her question.

Derek concentrated on chewing and starting the movie. Because the answer to the question was actually “not until tonight”. Because, dammit, he was attracted to Riley.

Thirty-seven minutes later, she was fast asleep. And she’d barely touched the popcorn. Cheddar was Lucy’s favorite, and if he was going to have movie nights with her, that was probably a good thing to know. But now Derek wished he hadn’t asked and had just gotten the kettle corn Riley had wanted. At the time, after all the talking about mouths and actually saying the words “go down on a woman” to Riley, the mention of Lucy had seemed like a good way to refocus what was going on between them. Which was nothing, really.

And if he had been picturing Riley spread out on his coffee table in nothing but a smile and her sassy attitude, well…he was only human.

He was also only human right now.

She looked gorgeous. Since they were sharing the couch, she’d fallen asleep propped up in the corner. She wore a hoodie over a tank top and loose cotton shorts that hit her mid-thigh. The hoodie was open, one breast pressing against the tank. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He could tell if he looked closely. Which he wasn’t. Anymore.

Her face was relaxed, and her hair was escaping from the messy bun she had on top of her head. And he could hardly count how many times in his life he’d seen her asleep. Several. Many. Yet, for some reason, tonight it hit him how damned beautiful she was. Which meant he should probably go to bed. Because he’d never had an urge to run his hand up Riley Ames’s leg before, and right now he was having a hard time fighting it.

Derek got to his feet, and then leaned over to move Riley so she wouldn’t wake up with a sore neck. He ignored how warm she was and how great she smelled. Mostly. Surely over the years he’d noticed that she smelled amazing. So why was it hitting him so hard tonight? And why wasn’t he just waking her up to go home? But it was late. And there was no problem with her crashing on his couch. They were friends, after all.

She promptly stretched out as he pivoted her to lie down on the cushions. Like a damned cat. With lots of arching and curling. That thrust her breasts and her sweet ass out. Yes, her ass was sweet, and yes, he’d told her so. After having it pressed up against his cock for nearly two hours while napping, he wasn’t going to pretend it was anything but one of the nicest he’d had the pleasure of being pressed against. And he’d never spent two hours in that position with a woman. Taking a woman from behind simply didn’t take two hours. It was one of his favorite positions, and he made sure they always thought so too. Fairly quickly.

Swallowing hard, he slid a pillow under Riley’s head and then draped the blanket over her. He could send her home, but he somehow knew that she wouldn’t be sleeping in at her mom’s house. He was sure she’d shown up on his doorstep that morning because her mom had awakened her, either intentionally or accidentally. He’d known the Ames family long enough—hell, he’d spent the night at their house enough—to know that Riley was the only night owl in the family. The rest of them were morning people. The types who weren’t just up at an ungodly hour, but who were happy and perky about it.

So yeah, Riley could sleep in on his couch. And then he could sleep in too.

He sent a quick text to her dad, letting him know she’d fallen asleep watching a movie and not to worry. Jake wouldn’t check his phone until the next day over breakfast anyway, and he certainly wouldn’t worry about Riley spending the night at Derek’s. Honestly, if something was going to happen between him and Riley, there had been thousands of opportunities over the years. Jake trusted him.

As Derek turned off the light in the living room and headed for his bedroom, he thought about that. Not only did Erika and Jake trust him, they would probably be fine with him and Riley getting together. They loved him like a son. And they definitely found him more responsible than their daughter. They’d probably consider him a stabilizing force for Riley.

But that would be too bad.

That thought hit him as he stripped down to his boxers and slid between the sheets. Stabilizing Riley would mean changing her. And that really would be too bad.

That was his last thought as he drifted off.

Only to be awakened by a pounding on his door five minutes later.

When he looked at the clock, he realized it was actually three hours later. But it was pounding nonetheless. On his door. At the butt-crack of dawn. And it wasn’t his front door. It was his bedroom door.

“Come on, Wright, let’s go!”

He was going to kill her.

He got out of bed, stomped to the bedroom door, and yanked it open. “Jesus, Riley!”

She was standing there with a hand on her hip, clearly expecting his reaction. “I missed you.” She gave him a full-of-shit grin.

“What?”

“I woke up alone.” She shrugged. “And I needed to see you as soon as possible.”

Okay, they were doing the this-is-what-it-would-be-like-with-a-real-girlfriend thing. Then he peered closer. “Did you go home and shower?”

She shook her head. “I went home and got my shower stuff and new clothes, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up over there.”

She didn’t want to wake up her parents, but she had no trouble waking him up. And he should be annoyed by that. But he couldn’t quite get past the idea that she’d been naked and wet two doors down.

He cleared his throat. “What the fuck are you doing up so early?”

“I had a nap yesterday.”

Right. The nap. With him. He ran a hand through his hair. “Why do I have to be up right now?”

“You had a nap yesterday too.”

“I didn’t sleep through an entire movie last night,” he told her.

“Guess you should have been more interesting to keep me awake.”

He wasn’t sure that her thoughts went where his did—namely to all the things he could have done to keep her awake—but the way she paused and her eyes widened slightly made him think maybe her thoughts did stray in that general direction. And that was…interesting.

“Lucy likes to walk.”

Riley’s voice was a little husky and she was looking at his mouth, so it took Derek a second to compute the four words. Then he frowned. “What?”

“Lucy likes to walk in the morning.”

“I thought she likes to do yoga.”

Riley nodded. Her gaze was still on his mouth, and Derek felt like she was running her fingertips over his lips. They tingled, and he wanted to do something with them. Something that involved the bare skin of her throat.

“She does yoga some mornings. Some mornings she goes for a walk.”

And then Riley’s gaze tracked lower than his mouth. And his did the same to her. She was dressed in a fitted workout tank and capri-length workout pants that hugged her—yes, sweet—ass. He bet that Lycra would be warm and silky if he ran his hand over it.

He was dressed in a lot less. He had his boxers on. Just his boxers. And he was sure that she could tell he liked the look of her in Lycra. His cock stirred even more as she made it past his chest and abs and below his waistband.

Then she licked her lips. And turned away. “I’ll meet you out front.”

Out front. Of his house. At just after eight in the morning. His neighbors were going to think something was wrong with him.

But, muttering under his breath about brats and early mornings, he turned back into his room and grabbed clothes and tennis shoes. He was going for a morning walk. With Riley. Because Lucy liked doing that, and if he was her boyfriend, he’d want to go with her.

As he tied his shoes, though, he admitted that no, he wouldn’t want to go with her. But he would still do it. Because that would be a way of spending time with her that worked for their conflicting schedules and didn’t involve naked time. Until afterward, when they were both sweaty.

He joined Riley on his front porch and took a moment to appreciate how she looked bent over, stretching. He didn’t even think about resisting saying, “Why’d you shower before going for a walk?”

She looked back where she was bent over her left leg. She slowly straightened. “I didn’t shower yet.”

“I thought you said you showered here.”

She shook her head. “I said I went home to get my shower stuff.”

Oh. Why had he assumed she’d been in his shower? Because images of Riley naked and doing intimate things in his house, with him, were becoming far too regular in his mind. “So you will be showering here?”

She nodded. “I was actually hoping you’d let me work here today for a while.”

“To avoid your mom?”

She hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. I have a new project I want to dive into, but I don’t want to tell her about it yet.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “A new project?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek but nodded.

For a second he considered teasing her about if it was legal or if it involved offshore bank accounts, but he held back. He wasn’t sure why. “You’re not talking about it?”

“Not to my mom.”

Derek studied her face for a moment. Then he turned and started down the steps. He looked back when he realized she wasn’t beside him. “You coming?”

She took a breath and then started down the steps.

They walked for about a block before he finally asked, “So, what’s the project?”

He could tell she wanted to talk about it. Not with her mother, but with someone. He knew that Erika loved Riley. And worried about her. But he also knew Riley was fine. She was a little bit of a rebel, but instead of rebelling against societal norms and stereotypes or against the cliques and pressures of high school, she’d always pushed back against the expectations her parents put on her. They compared her to Kyle, Mr. Perfect, the straight-A-Mr.-Congeniality-President-of-Everything son they’d raised. And Riley had been none of those things. On purpose. It had been completely obvious to everyone, including her parents. But Erika simply couldn’t help but get on Riley about the things she did or didn’t do, or should or shouldn’t do.

“It’s for Scott.”

Derek felt a surge of satisfaction in his chest when she answered. “Yeah?” He glanced at her as they turned the corner.

“It’s not for sure,” she said. “But Peyton mentioned it, and I figure she can talk Scott into at least considering it.”

“Peyton can talk Scott into almost anything,” Derek agreed with a chuckle. Scott and Peyton were perfect for each other, and he couldn’t deny the tiny twinge of jealousy he felt when he saw them together. There was just something about seeing two people so in sync that made even the most cynical heart think “what if”. And Derek wasn’t all that cynical.

Over the next thirty minutes, they walked and Riley told him all about the project with Scott’s sex trafficking task force and the websites and what she’d already learned and what she could do. They somehow ended up back at his house, and he was shocked to feel disappointed.

“It sounds amazing, Ry,” he told her. “Great chance to use your super powers for good instead of evil.”

For just a heartbeat she seemed annoyed. Or hurt. And he felt a stab in the general vicinity of his heart. Had he hurt her feelings? He knew that she hadn’t done anything wrong out in California. He’d been kidding.

But before he could figure out what to say, she recovered and gave him a smile. “Well, the bad guys might think I’m a little evil.”

Derek pulled himself together too and said, “You better make them think you’re a lot evil.”

She nodded. “Definitely.”

“So, what’s for breakfast today?” he asked, getting off the topic that he suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with. Which he hated. It was like the awkward breakfast yesterday when he’d been trying to be sweet. But he still wanted breakfast with her today.

“Oh, I was…maybe I’ll just run home after all. Mom’s up by now, I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes slightly, as if she couldn’t help it. “And it’s omelet day.”

He smiled in spite of himself. At Erika Ames’s house, there was definitely one day that was always omelets. As there was waffle day, cinnamon roll day, oatmeal day, muffin day, cereal and toast day—the day she needed to do something easier because she had to go to her water aerobics class—and, his favorite, bacon and eggs day.

But if Riley went home, that meant she wouldn’t be showering here. Or working here. Or…here.

Fuck. Why the hell did he want her to be here?

“You need to get to work on the project,” he told her. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed her hand and started up the porch steps. “You shower first. I’ll make omelets here. It will be just like you’re at your mom’s.”

Riley snorted. “I certainly hope not.”

He stopped and looked back at her. “Well, you won’t have anyone on your ass here.”

He realized too late what he’d just said. They both seemed to freeze. Her hand was still in his, and he swore he felt the heat in his hand intensify and then spread up his arm and through the rest of his body.

Riley licked her lips. Then she pulled in a breath and said, “Yeah, that will be a nice change.”

He definitely wanted to be on her ass. He wanted to be on all of her.

And fuck it that wasn’t the most surprising and complicated and irritating thing ever. Wasn’t that just typical? A friend was here helping him figure out how not to make everything about sex and what did he do? Started lusting after her, of course.

But he also wanted her to work here today. The project was good. It was a great fit for Riley. It was something that the task force needed, and it would be doing something really, really good. He didn’t think Riley actually felt guilty about what had gone down in California. She’d done nothing wrong, technically. But he knew that she wanted to feel good about what she was doing. And right or wrong, she wanted to be able to tell her mom about her job and her passions without being judged.

He knew Riley. She could get passionate about a new level of magic in an online video game. She could get passionate about a new blog supporting women’s rights and fighting for wage equality. She could get passionate about a news story, a city council issue, or a new menu item at Dottie’s Diner. He’d seen all of that at different times. But he sincerely doubted that she got passionate about cyber security for banks.

“So, go shower, I’ll cook, and you can work here like you’d planned,” he said, letting go of her hand finally.

They needed to hang out for both their sakes. He needed to get his dick under control.

She nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he told her. And it shouldn’t be. That was for sure.

He started the breakfast preparation. He had a hard time keeping his focus on eggs and ham and mushrooms rather than on the soapy, slick, naked woman down the hall, but he at least got points for pulling those thoughts back to whisking and flipping whenever they wandered.

And when she finally emerged, he had himself convinced that he was fine. Until he turned around. Her wet hair was up on top of her head, and she brought a vanilla-scented rush of air into the room, and she was wearing a T-shirt that said I like you, but if zombies chase us, I’m tripping you.

God, he liked her.

He supposed he always had, but the more time they spent one-on-one, the more apparent it became. He liked her. Not just to tease, but because she was funny and smart and mouthy and didn’t think he was the best thing since fried pickles.

And her breasts looked damned good in that T-shirt. Dammit.

“Everything’s ready.” He gestured toward the stove.

“It smells great.”

She sounded a bit surprised, but he let it go. “I’m going to shower.”

“Oh, you’re not—” She stopped and nodded. “Okay.”

Did she want him to eat breakfast with her? Well, it didn’t matter. He was going to take a shower instead of sitting here finding more things to be attracted to. Riley was gorgeous. But she wasn’t for him. He was going to date Lucy. For one thing, Lucy didn’t think he was a dumbass. Well, that might not actually be true, but she didn’t have the proof of it from years of knowing him that Riley did. For another, Lucy was going to stay in Sapphire Falls forever. Just like him. Riley couldn’t wait to leave. So there was that.

But when he got into the bathroom, he realized that escaping Riley and his growing attraction to her was impossible. Not just because she’d made his bathroom smell like her—a combination of vanilla and herbs and flowers that sounded in his head like it should have been nauseating, but instead had him pulling the towel she’d used to his nose and taking a deep breath. A deep, stupid, what-the-hell breath of her scent. She’d also littered the edge of his tub with shaving cream in a pink can, and a razor that was also pink, and body gel that was—God save him—pink. All of that had him thinking about the places she’d spread that shaving cream and scrubbed with that body gel.

But all of that wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t escape her. She was a part of his life. She’d been in California for the past few years, but her photos were all over Erika and Jake’s house. Conversations with the Ames family usually involved Riley at some point. Most of his childhood memories—and even most after childhood—included her. And now she was living here, even if it was temporary, and their lives were so entwined that there was no way he could just avoid her or ignore her.

And he didn’t want to.

He’d never been good at ignoring her. Even when she’d tried to ignore him, he’d had to poke at her and tease. So now that he’d realized she had the best breasts he’d ever seen in a T-shirt and that her ass really did fit perfectly against his cock, there was no way he was going to be able to keep his attention off of her.

Derek turned the shower on a little colder than usual and shed his clothes. And stopped trying to pretend that he didn’t want Riley. What would she be like in bed? Sassy, he was sure. Probably up for anything. That was how she did everything else, why would sex be any different?

He braced a hand on the wall, letting the shower spray rain down on his head. He closed his eyes and did the inevitable. He took his cock—his hard-for-Riley cock—in hand and started stroking.

He could easily imagine her on her knees in front of him. Not submissive—though getting bossy with her would be a hell of a lot of fun—but because she’d want to drive him crazy. She’d watch his every reaction to what she did to see how best to push him, to make him curse under his breath, to make him lock his knees so he didn’t go down and grasp for something to hold him up. She’d lick and suck and stroke until he was saying her name and gripping her hair, his need and ultimate surrender obvious. And then, before he could get to the sweet release, she’d stand up and tell him bluntly, “Fuck me, Derek”. She’d demand that he give as good as he got. So he’d lift her up against the wall and pound into her. She’d take every inch, every thrust. She’d dig her fingers into his back and would urge him on with “more” and “yes” and “harder”.

Derek squeezed his cock and stroked harder, sliding up and down his shaft, eyes shut, a clear vision of Riley in his head. He could easily imagine the hot, slick hold on his cock was her pussy. He could hear her voice in his head telling him exactly what to do to make her come, and he’d gladly do it. He wouldn’t kid around or tease or joke. He’d fuck her to the point that she had to admit he was a damned Sex God after all.

He felt his orgasm coming on fast and hard. His gut clenched, his balls tightened, and he erupted. He kept from shouting or groaning, knowing she’d hear from the kitchen, but barely. In fact, part of him wanted her to hear it. Wanted her to know that she was getting to him, and while she might consider it a small victory to be driving him nuts, he wasn’t going to let her get away with it for long. If he was going to be crazy, so was she.

As he finished showering, dried, and dressed, he marveled at how he should be feeling relieved and relaxed after a hard, satisfying orgasm, but how, instead, he felt even more irritated than before. Maybe Riley didn’t know she was getting to him, but he knew it. And hell, she wasn’t even trying. That was maybe the worst part. If she’d been trying to tease or seduce him, that might be one thing. It could have turned into a fun game of chicken—see who could make the other one beg first. But no, she was just being Riley.

And a big part of him couldn’t help but think that if he hadn’t been sexually attracted to her before he’d spent a few innocent hours alone with her, then he really was a dumbass.

By the time he made it back to the kitchen, Riley was done eating and had cleaned up everything except for a plate and a set of utensils. She flipped an omelet from the pan she held onto the plate and handed it to him. He’d made her an omelet and she’d made him one. That shouldn’t feel significant. And maybe it wasn’t. But the fact that she hadn’t added asparagus or avocado or some weird nuts or seeds, and the fact that he didn’t comment on that, or tease her about what gross things he might have secretly added to hers, was significant. Things were changing between them. They were hanging out, talking, and he was thinking about her breasts far too much.

She washed the pan as he ate. Then she grabbed a bag from the living room and started setting up her computer, mouse pad, and wireless keyboard on the table across from him.

“This still okay?” she asked, as she plugged into the outlet behind her.

“Of course.”

“What are you doing today?”

He hadn’t really thought about it. He was going to do some painting in the new addition at the Come Again at some point, and he needed to get the scaffolding out and clean the light fixtures in the vaulted ceiling at the Methodist church. He shrugged. “Just some stuff.”

“You’re working tonight?”

“Yep.” He worked almost every night.

“’Til close?”

He frowned. This was the part of the dating thing that he didn’t like. He didn’t really make a lot of plans ahead of time, and he hung out with people who didn’t either. His two best friends were more or less on call twenty-four seven around here, and neither really knew what might come up at any minute. Those relationships worked for Derek. He just went with the flow. “Yeah, ’til close. Not sure what time I’ll get there. Bryan’s covering until I show up.”

Riley looked up and gave him a little frown. She must have heard the annoyance in his tone. “You know, when you’re dating someone, it’s okay for them to know where you are and when.”

“Every second?”

“Of course not. But it’s not unreasonable to ask what time you get off work.”

He shoved back from the table and took his dishes to the sink. “Yeah, well, we’re not actually dating.”

If they were, the scenario in his head during his shower would not have been fictional. He scowled as he rinsed his plate. He didn’t want to date Riley, dammit. They’d be a terrible match. They’d kill each other.

“So?” she asked. “I thought you wanted a taste of what this would really be like.”

He swung around. “You’re offering me a taste?” he repeated. “Well, Ry, I’m all over that. I know exactly where I’d start, in fact. But if you want me checking in with you on where I am and what I’m doing every damned second, you can forget it.”

She looked exasperated. “What’s your problem?”

“Jacking off in the shower while thinking of a girl who’s basically been my kid sister all my life.”

Her mouth dropped open. She shook her head. “You’re just saying that to shock me or whatever.”

He wished like hell that was true. He pushed away from the counter. “I’m leaving.”

“Fine. I’ll probably just be here for a few hours and—”

“Whatever. You don’t have to report in to me either.” He stomped through the house, grabbing a pair of jeans off the back of one of the chairs and his work boots by the door. It was too hot to wear them at the church, but he never knew when he might get a call to climb up into someone’s hay loft or something else that would require different attire.

See? He didn’t have to plan every damned thing out. He was just always prepared for anything.

Except for Riley.

He definitely hadn’t been prepared to have her around more, in his house, in his business, in his head.

He stopped at the front door and started to turn back. But he didn’t want to ask the question in his head just then. He gripped the doorknob. Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it.

And he didn’t.

Until he got to his truck. Then he texted her. Will you be in tonight?

He knew she’d know he meant at the Come Again. That was one thing about “dating” Riley. He saw her every night at the bar. They kept the same hours. When she wasn’t dragging his ass out of bed at the crack of dawn.

That meant that if they really were dating, they’d have plenty of time to go on walks and have meals together and…shower together.

He swore and tossed his phone on the seat next to him, starting the truck and pulling out of his drive.

But a minute later, when his phone dinged with a text, he reached for it. He pulled up at the stop sign at the end of the block and opened the message. It was from Riley.

Yes.

That was all. But he was relieved.

I want you to taste test a couple new pizzas, he sent back. The pizza business was going to be all his, and he was excited. It was still a couple months away from opening, but at the same time, he felt like he was running out of time to get things done. And he was getting nervous. He never got nervous. He never had a reason. But he supposed that was a sign that this business really mattered to him.

He realized he was holding his breath, waiting for Riley’s response. The truth was, he wanted to see her tonight. He didn’t want to have to give her a minute-by-minute account of his day, and he didn’t need that from her either. But he was curious about what she’d be up to, and he knew by eight, when she usually came in, that he’d wonder where she was if she didn’t show. And that was so fucking stupid.

Great. I love pizza was her return message.

He tossed the phone onto the seat again, realizing that he was far too pleased by her answer.

But Riley would tell him the truth about the pizza. That he could be sure of. If they sucked, she’d have no trouble breaking the news. These were not the typical pepperoni or everything pizzas that most people were used to. He’d have those too, but his were going to be stone-oven pizzas, so a little different from the pizzas people ate around here now, and he wanted to have a couple specialties. Barbecue chicken was one. Philly cheesesteak was another. The ones he’d sampled in Omaha had been good, but he hadn’t tried to reproduce them. For some reason, tonight seemed like a good time. Maybe it was because Riley told him about the task force project. Maybe that had opened up a new state where they actually told each other things and had serious discussions instead of him just constantly trying to push her buttons. Huh. Maybe they were going to be able to be grown-ups together.

At least if he quit saying things like, “I jerked off in the shower thinking of you.”

He’d hoped that if she knew he wanted her opinion on something, she’d definitely come in tonight. He’d been 90% sure she would anyway, but that was before he told her about the shower. No doubt that could make things awkward. So he wanted to be sure she came into the bar. And Riley loved to give him her opinion.

But, for a change, he wanted her opinion.

It’s just pizza, he told himself as he turned into the church parking lot.

But his new business wasn’t just pizza. It was a chance to do something totally on his own, a chance to bring something new to the town, a chance to be an actual business owner instead of working for someone else all the time.

And it was a chance to spectacularly fail. He didn’t have those chances very often. The things he did were pretty safe in general. So this was new.

He supposed that was also why it felt like bringing Riley in on things fit. Their relationship had always been safe. They were just…there. In each other’s lives. He showed up, he teased her, she got annoyed, she left. Then the next time, it started all over again. He knew which buttons to push, knew which reactions he was going to get. Now though…things between them didn’t feel as predictable. Or safe.

So maybe he was just in the risk-taking mood.

Of course, it was equally likely that he was doing something really stupid here.