Chapter 15—Making Progress

* Riley *

Waking up next to Tiff was the best feeling in the world. It was a lazy Sunday morning, and neither of us had to be anywhere. I rolled onto my side and pulled her into my arms. She curled around me and purred like a kitten.

Our sex life rocked. Two more weeks had zipped by, and I gained more confidence with each day. This relationship was going to work. I’d never been happier in my life. We won our next two games, and we were still in the hunt for decent bowl bid, if not the conference championship game.

I could feel the bond between Tiff and me growing stronger, even though I sensed it was still fragile and easily broken, but we’d get there. I had faith.

One large obstacle loomed over our happiness like a storm cloud in the distance. A week from now would be the seventh anniversary of the shooting. I knew Tiff was feeling the nearness of the date. Once in a while I’d catch the haunted look in her eyes. Together, we could get through it.

Otto snored from his dog bed against one wall of the room. The house was quiet, other than the sound of rain pattering against the roof.

I closed my eyes and listened to Tiff’s breathing. Contentment wrapped its warm arms around me, lulling me into believing all was right with my world.

Tiff’s head rubbed against my chest, then she lifted her gaze to meet mine.

“Hey, good morning,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning to you.” I shot her a big grin. My life was fucking incredible. I had Tiff, I was making a name for myself in football, would probably get drafted, and I was passing all my classes—a minor miracle considering my issues with schoolwork.

The tips of her fingers tiptoed across my abs and traversed lower. She wrapped her fingers around my semi-hard dick, which immediately rose to the occasion, always ready for action.

“Time for a wake-up call,” she said.

I was wide-awake and pulled her leg over my hip, entering her from the side. I didn’t use a condom because Tiff was on birth control, a fact she’d admitted after a few nights together. I pushed into her warm, welcoming wetness and let her body wrap tightly around me. A few strokes, and I was rock hard and buried deep. I thrust into her several times before pulling out and flipping her onto all fours. Tiff liked it doggy style, and I liked it any way I could get it.

I held on to her waist as I buried my dick deep inside her. She whimpered and arched her back, leveraging the angle for maximum pleasure. Reaching under her, I pinched her nipples and was rewarded with a throaty yet feminine growl. Tiff loved to have her nipples tweaked, sucked, licked, whatever. She could orgasm with nothing but nipple play. Her responsiveness to my touch was good for my ego.

I thrust harder, moving one hand between her legs and finding her clit. I toyed with the little nub until her body shook with need, pressed down, and she shuddered underneath me.

“Riley! Oh, Riley!”

Her saying my name when she came was enough to trigger my own release. I leaned over her, arms wrapped around her as we flew together. I swear to God, I could feel more than her body. I could feel her soul, and I could almost feel her love—the one thing she held back, but I was getting there, breaking through her barriers.

I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me as the last remnants of the orgasm faded.

I was mellow, happy, and ready for anything. Tiff lay still for a long while, her head on my shoulder. Her hair fanned out in a golden halo on my chest. She was my angel. My savior. My everything.

When her breathing returned to normal, I thought she’d fallen asleep, but she surprised me by sitting up in bed, the sheet wrapped around her. Her modesty was adorable, especially considering the stuff we’d done together in the last three weeks. She leaned against the headboard, her expression closed off and unreadable.

Uh-oh.

I wasn’t liking the look of this.

“Is something wrong?” I asked warily.

“Your uncle said something odd to me a few weeks ago, and it’s been weighing on me.”

“What?” I forced my tone to stay neutral. Uncle Coop meant well, but he was controlling and expected everyone to do his bidding. We’d butted heads more than once over the years.

“We have to be totally honest with each other, Ry. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“You know everything about me. Everything that matters,” I lied. I didn’t tell her about my mother. I couldn’t do it. I’d spent so long in denial, I couldn’t admit my mother was a prostitute and drug addict and I’d spent a good part of my childhood sleeping either under a bridge or in a sleazy hotel bathroom with my eyes squeezed shut while my mother did it with her john right outside the door.

She narrowed her eyes, assessing me in that astute way she had. “You never talk about your past.”

I gave her a nonchalant one-shoulder shrug. “Nothing to say. You know, perfect childhood, raised by an incredible single mom, plenty of money and love to go around. Never really knew my father, but I had great male role models.” I was going to burn in hell for the lies I was telling. Fuck if I knew why I couldn’t tell her the truth. Most likely a paralyzing fear she’d realize I was more fucked up than she was, run like hell, and never look back. Even worse, she might think I had the potential to be as nuts as her ex-boyfriend. No, I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when our relationship was so new. Yet with every lie I told I got in deeper, making it even harder to admit the truth.

“Why did your uncle tell me you had a crappy childhood?” She watched me carefully, and I used my best poker face, which I hoped was good enough. I was going to kill Uncle Coop, or at least read him the riot act. Where did he get off telling her shit like that? He knew how sensitive I was about my life before him.

“Because my mom died when I was at a tough age.”

She scrutinized me. “That’s what I thought he was referring to. Where did you live?”

“We moved around a lot because of my mom’s job.” At least that was the truth. “Mostly California, then Portland and Seattle.”

“Were you living in Seattle when she died?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How did she die?”

God, I wished she’d quit asking questions. Maybe if I distracted her with a kiss, slid my hands down her belly, and—

“Riley! How did she die?” Tiff’s voice had become so shrill, I jumped in surprise.

“Uh, a freak accident. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Someday you’re going to have to talk about it.”

No shit.

“Just not now. Okay? I promise, Tiff, give me time, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Do you miss her?”

I swallowed around the huge lump in my throat. “Yeah, sometimes, I do. I wish things could’ve been different.” Another truth. Despite it all, I loved my mother. After all, she was the only mother I had, as crappy as she was, and she’d tried to protect me as best she could considering her lifestyle.

She nodded and patted my arm sympathetically, making me feel like an even bigger ass than I was. “Life sucks sometimes, but we have to keep going. It never stays bad for long.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You’d tell me if there was more, wouldn’t you?” Her troubled eyes met mine.

“Yeah, I would. Of course.” I was sinking deeper in a quicksand pit of my own making, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. No one knew other than my closest family members. My heart sank as I realized I didn’t trust Tiff with my deepest secrets. What did that say about our future?

* Tiff *

Five days later on a Friday night, Riley and I sat on Seattle’s Great Wheel overlooking Elliott Bay and Puget Sound. We were bundled against the cold enjoying each other’s company in companionable silence. We’d left Otto in the back of the SUV, getting his snooze on.

The wheel rotated slowly, giving us views of the islands across the water on this clear night. A ferry chugged across Elliott Bay bound for Bainbridge Island. A lonely seagull squawked in the distance.

Riley had a game tomorrow, so we were chilling, literally. A cool breeze wafted up from the water, and I shivered. Riley put his arm around me and pulled me close. I snuggled next to his chest and sighed. He kissed the top of my head.

“It’s beautiful up here,” he whispered.

“It is. I don’t know why we didn’t try this sooner.”

“I love nights like this.”

I did, too, but tonight I couldn’t shake off a feeling that our relationship was about to be put to the test. Tuesday would be the seventh anniversary of the school shooting. If that was the only thing making me squeamish, I could deal with the known. I could predict how I’d react and find ways to overcome it.

No, this was different. This was more like something else. Something life-changing or unexpected. I tried to shake off the feeling. I wasn’t psychic or intuitive. I was just Tiff, and I had a tendency to worry too much.

Yet Riley wasn’t being 100 percent honest with me. I could sense it like a cadaver dog finding where a dead body was buried. I didn’t know if I wanted to dig up this particular body, but I knew I had to. Riley insisted I be honest with him, and honesty was a two-way street. Until he trusted me enough to open up to me, I could do very little.

I couldn’t blame him for being cautious. I’d burned him before. I’d gone into this uncertain of what I wanted out of a relationship with him or if I even wanted one. Funny thing about love and caution, as life threw more and more obstacles in front of me, I pushed them aside and soldiered on.

I stared downward. The lights on the wheel reflected green and blue on the water below.

I turned to Riley, placed a gentle kiss on his lips, and squeezed his hand.

He smiled down at me, his kind eyes shining with love for me with all my bumps and bruises and barely healed wounds.

He buried the fingers of one hand in my hair and took my mouth with his for a deep, tender kiss that had my world spinning and my heart racing. My heart soared, pushing my concerns out of the way.

We could do this. We were stronger together. I gazed into his tropical-sea-blue eyes and touched his cheek with my index finger. Emotion surged inside me like a rogue wave, almost overpowering, and frightening in its intensity. I fought off the fear, confronting the emotion, and recognizing it for what it was, what it always had been. This thing with Riley wasn’t just a simple schoolgirl crush, or worship of a boy who’d once saved my life, or even a safe port in a storm. Even though it was all those things, it was so much more.

I cupped Riley’s chin, loving the roughness of his stubble across my palm. He continued to gaze at me, as if expecting something.

Something he’d seen in my eyes.

Something sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Something living in my heart.

“You’re a special man, Riley Black.”

He shrugged, saying nothing. Instead, he waited. Just as he always had. Waiting for me to make the next move.

“I love you.” I wished I’d had a camera capable of capturing all the emotions in his gaze, from surprise, to acceptance, to pure happiness.

A cocky smile crossed his strong features. “I know you do, but it’s good to hear you finally say it.”

I socked him in the arm. “Conceited much?”

“Nah, just a perceptive guy.” He sobered. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to say that.”

“I’ve been waiting forever to say it.”

He hugged me. “I love you, Tiff. I always have, and I always will.”

“I know.” A shot him my own version of a cocky smile. “I’ve felt the same.”

He grinned back and kissed me again.

My heart soared and the clouds lifted.