Sweet: (Intermix) (True Believers) (14 page)

Riley laughed. “I guess that makes you a good preacher’s daughter.”

“Good is a loose, all-encompassing term.”

“Do you believe in God?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious, taking a drag on his just lit cigarette.

“Yes. I just don’t believe in using religion as an excuse to hate or exclude others, or as a self-righteous shield.” I had thought a lot about the hypocrisy of religions, or rather of the people who professed to practice it. It didn’t sit well with me that you could claim yourself a devout Christian, then plot revenge on your neighbor for their dog destroying your flower garden. And that was on the small end of the scale.

“I don’t know what I believe.” The smoke rose in front of his features, his eyes troubled, jaw set.

“You believe in your brothers.”

“Yeah. I do.” Riley pulled into his driveway and turned off the car. He looked at me. “I know that my life as it is right now is how it will always be. I’m cool with that. But I want better for them.”

I nodded. “I know.” I did. I could see his sincerity. Knew that he lived his life to take care of everyone else but himself. Until Tyler had gotten arrested, most of Riley’s income had gone to pay Tyler’s tuition. It had been their plan to secure Tyler a decent paying job. But then their mother had dicked them over by planting her drugs on Tyler to avoid her own arrest.

It was clear Riley wasn’t really sure how to adjust to the new reality, how to create a new plan. I didn’t know what my plan was either. We totally had that in common, though his stakes were way higher. Mine were just my own future, not the responsibility of other human beings.

“Sometimes I picture the future my parents want for me, and I feel like I’m drowning,” I told him. “But I guess I deal with it by telling myself to just live now.”

“What future do your parents want for you?”

“Arm candy for a junior minister. Social coordinator for the church. Donation solicitor.”

His eyebrows shot up. “For real?”

I nodded. “I’m double majoring in Religious Studies and Interior Design. Their call, not mine. I get to chose my husband, but only from a church member.”

“Holy shit.” He looked astonished. “Then what are you doing here with me?”

“Living in the now.” I wanted him to understand, to hear what no one had ever heard. “I won’t be able to do it, you know. I’ll fail. At some point, I will be kicked out by my family. It’s just a matter of when, of when they figure out that I can never be good enough. Pure enough.”

“They’ll really cut you off?”

“Without a doubt.” It was something I had never said out loud before, but it was the truth, I knew it.

His hand stroked my knee. “I guess we’re both fucked, huh?”

“Looks that way.”

“Then I guess it’s a damn good thing we found each other.”

It was.

Chapter Twelve

By the time Riley finally called me at eleven thirty the next day, I was clammy from anxiety. My temporary roommate, Maggie, had been trying to chat with me after Tyler had dropped me off that morning, but I had been so lame and boring, she’d given up.

“Hello?” I said, already pacing back and forth in the small kitchen.

“It went good. The social worker said everything looks fine. That it was a clean and ‘pleasant environment’ for four guys our age.”

“Yes!” I gave a fist pump, letting out a sigh of relief.

He laughed. “She had Easton go through the pictures in the hallway and tell her about them. When he got to the one of you and me, he said, ‘That’s Jessica. She says no one is allowed to smoke in the house.’ The social worker said that was a good rule.”

“My work is done here,” I told Riley, highly satisfied. “Though I didn’t even realize Easton heard me.” Or remembered my name.

“He hears everything. It’s his superpower.”

“What’s your superpower?”

“You haven’t seen it yet.”

Oh, my. The night before we had just spooned again. No making out, no nothing. It was like Riley had been too worried to be turned on. I had tried not to find it weird, but the truth was, I found it weird. Most guys I knew used sex as an excuse to avoid anything and everything. Or it was the one thing that could distract them from something they didn’t want to deal with. Riley was different.

“Oh, yeah? That sounds ominous.”

“Nah. Superpowers are always a positive thing.” There was a pause where I could tell he was lighting a cigarette because there was a muffled rustling as his shoulder connected with the phone.

I wondered when his birthday was, because I wanted to buy him a nicotine patch.

“The cookie jar was a nice touch, by the way. Jayden reached in and got one out and he actually remembered to offer one to her. I don’t know how he pulled manners out of his ass at the right second, but it was golden.”

“That’s awesome. I’m really happy it went so well.” Happy and relieved.

“Thanks, babe. I owe you one.”

Hopefully it would be in the form of a giant orgasm. “What are you doing now?” Maybe we could celebrate.

“I’m heading to work. I’ll at least get a half day’s pay.”

Ick. So much for thoughts of celebration. “Hey, I forgot to ask, how was the zoo yesterday? Did you actually make it?”

“Yes. And it was ninety degrees there. It was like doing laps in ball soup. We saw a gorilla eat his own shit and two lemurs fucking.”

“Hm. Sounds delightful.”

“But for whatever reason Jayden and Easton loved it. They must be seeing something I’m not.”

“I never liked the zoo either. It’s a lot of walking to look at dirty and bored animals.”

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. How come you and I are the only ones who get it?”

“We’re an island unto ourselves.” I paced again, suddenly overcome by the urge to call off work and be at the house when Riley got home.

The thought was alien. I had wanted to ditch work plenty of times, but not for the simple reason that I wanted to see a guy. It was scary. I was sharing my feelings with him and wanting to be with him all the time.

I was pretty sure this meant that I was emotionally invested, aka emotionally screwed.

He laughed and it ended in a cough, a real hacking sound that was not normal for a twenty-five-year-old. “Sorry,” he said when it petered out. “The tuberculosis is kicking up.”

“Ha ha. Maybe you should try quitting smoking.”

“Maybe you should try quitting nagging.”

I was nagging. I sounded like a bitchy wife. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right.” Let him argue with that logic.

“I’ll quit someday. Just not today. Besides, I can just about guarantee I’m in better shape than you. I haul roofing materials all day and I go to the gym.”

“You also eat fried foods. And I’m reasonably athletic,” I protested. “I was on the volleyball team in high school.”

“I’m doing a Warrior Dash on Saturday. Want to do it with me?”

“What’s that?” I asked, suspicious. I was fairly certain I was being tricked into something heinous.

“It’s an obstacle course, where you scale a wall and stuff like that. Once you finish, they give you beer. People of all ages and levels of endurance do it, and there are no high speeds or demons.”

He was just a regular Jimmy Fallon. “I could probably do that.” Though I didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic. “I like beer.”

“You don’t have to,” he said. “It requires determination and a willingness to get dirty. But maybe you can come and just cheer me on.”

Hello. Just because I was blond didn’t mean I was going to be relegated to the role of cheerleader in a tight T-shirt. “I can get dirty. I’m determined. Screw you, Mann. Tell me when and where.”

I could practically hear him grinning. “You are so easy to manipulate.”

How amusing. Not. “Dick.” Though I had walked right into that one.

“What?”

“You know. But fine, I’ll still do it. Now I have a point to prove and maybe you’ll stop calling me princess.”

“I already have. Pita.”

“How about no nicknames unless they start with Sexy?”

“No. That shows no imagination.”

Winning. “I’m okay with cliché as long as it references my beauty.”

“We can talk about your beauty later. Right now I have to go to work.”

“Work sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I’ll call you later.” He made exaggerated and obnoxious kissing sounds into the phone.

I laughed. “Oh, God, never make that sound again.”

***

Wednesday night after he picked me up, we went back to his house and played video games in the hot living room. “So who do you normally hang out with?” I asked, thumbs moving fast on my controller.

“I don’t know. I’m either at work or the gym or with my brothers. Sometimes I grab a beer with the guys I work with.”

“Maybe we should invite some people over sometime.”

“You mean, like a party?” he asked, glancing over at me.

“No. I guess we really can’t do that. Not with the boys and social workers and all that. I meant more just like, maybe you could introduce me to your friends.” The minute it was out of my mouth, I wanted to retract the statement. It was so “girlfriend.” So needy.

“I don’t have any friends. I have coworkers I grab a beer with. I have Tyler and Nathan and that’s about it. You’re dating a loser. There is still time for you to bail if you want.”

“Don’t be self-deprecating. It’s not a good look on you.” I dodged a missile on the screen. “I don’t have a lot of true friends either. Just Rory and Kylie and Robin.” The rest were fringe.

“Robin’s the hot one, right?” he asked, voice teasing.

“I will cut you if you say that again.”

“And you were worried about my jealousy? Damn.”

“Maybe we could have a cookout or something for your friends and my friends.” Why was I still pushing this? I wasn’t even sure what I was pushing.

“Why do we have to be with other people? Can’t I just be with you?” He paused the game and tossed his controller on the coffee table. “Come here, weirdo.”

He pulled me into his arms and I settled with my back against his chest. “What are you really asking for, Jess?”

“I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I don’t really have any idea how to date someone. I haven’t had a boyfriend since my junior year in high school.”

“Well, I’ve never had a boyfriend so you’re one step ahead of me.”

Oh, God. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see them. “Cute.”

Tyler came into the living room from the kitchen. He saw us sitting together and made a face.

“What?” I asked.

“I miss Rory.”

“It’s been two days,” Riley protested. “How much can you miss her?”

“Easy for you to say when you have Jessica’s ass resting on your junk.”

Suddenly Riley stiffened. “Hey, look, man, I know I’m supposed to be all cool with whatever you and Jess did before, but the truth is, I’m not. I’m trying but it’s hard, so just leave my girlfriend’s ass out of our conversations, okay?”

My cheeks started to burn. I wanted to protest that Tyler hadn’t said anything suggestive at all, that he was talking about missing Rory, but my gut said that would make it worse. Instead, I just linked my hand through Riley’s, trying to convey that I was with him and he needed to chill.

“Girlfriend, huh?” was what Tyler said. “I never saw that one coming, but I have to say, the two of you make sense together.”

Now I was really embarrassed. I turned to Riley. “Yeah, girlfriend?”

He shrugged. “You got a problem with that?”

It was so utterly unromantic that I grinned, feeling much better about the whole thing. He was just as awkward as I was, and it was a huge relief. I didn’t feel so insane for suggesting he introduce me to his friends.

“Dude, you have no game,” Tyler told him.

“Fuck you,” Riley responded. “She never wanted to date you, did she? Yet she’s dating
me
.”

Fortunately, Tyler just laughed, throwing his hands up. “True. See, it all worked out the way it was supposed to. Now can you just accept that Jess and I are friends, always have been, and stop making her feel uncomfortable?”

“Can you just go away?”

Easton came streaking out of the kitchen in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts, running out of the front door. “Where the hell are you going?” Riley roared after him.

“He has a bug up his ass about catching fireflies since Rory’s dad showed him how to catch them and release them before they croak.”

For some reason, Riley sighed. “You know the next time the social worker shows up, it will be an unannounced visit.”

“So?” Tyler shrugged. “It’s all going to be fine. Easton has gained ten pounds since Mom died and he’s grown like half an inch. He even talks more. His teachers at the end of the year said he was doing better. Don’t borrow trouble, man.”

I found it interesting that the dynamic in the house had changed since the boys were back. Riley was less relaxed. While he had been worried about Easton and the impending social worker visit, he hadn’t been on edge like this. That Tyler was always so calm seemed to make Riley wind tighter. I sensed a wall kicking in the near future.

That tension was why he wasn’t interested in having sex with me. That’s what I told myself when Riley drove me back to my apartment an hour later and just idled the car, his goodnight kiss distracted.

“Wear clothes that can get dirty for the Warrior Dash,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at eight Saturday morning.”

Gross. I wished I’d had that information before I’d said yes. I also wished that he would show the slightest bit of interest in seeing me between now and then. It was only Wednesday. And if we had to get up at the crack of dawn on Saturday, wouldn’t it make sense for me to stay over with him Friday night?

And have sex?

I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject though without looking needy. “What are you doing Friday?”

“Working. Sleeping.”

Not the answer I was looking for. Apparently I needed
some
romance. Not a lot. But an ounce.

But I was not about to beg for it. I climbed out of the car. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

That was it?

I slammed the door shut behind me, climbing the stairs to my apartment with angry stomps of my sandals.

My new roommate was in her room and clearly not alone. The sound of desperate moans of pleasure, interspersed with male grunts, filled the air.

Fabulous. Everyone was getting some but me.

***

“I guess I wasn’t clear on the dress code,” Riley said, eyeing my hot pink sports bra and black volleyball shorts as I climbed into his car Saturday morning.

“What? You said it’s an obstacle course. This is my workout outfit.”

“I also said it should be something you don’t mind getting dirty. This looks like you’re going to film an erotic workout video.”

“What the hell is an erotic workout video?” I lifted his coffee mug out of the holder and sniffed. “Is this from today or is it old?”

“It’s from today.”

I took a sip.

“Yes, you can have a sip.”

That would be my tongue sticking out at him.

“I’m serious. You should go change.”

“Is this some jealousy thing again?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his temples like I gave him a headache. “Just get a T-shirt. Please.”

“Can’t I just wear yours? I don’t feel like climbing all those stairs again.”

Riley gave me a long look. “You don’t want to take the stairs. But you’re about to enter a Warrior Dash.”

“I’m saving my energy. We can T-shirt share. Like a time-share, only less expensive.”

“You make me want to drink and it’s only 8 a.m.”

“Then my work is done here.” I stared him down.

Finally, he sighed and put the car into reverse. Ha. I won.

Except it was an empty victory when I saw what the obstacle course actually looked like. “Riley! You did not tell me I would be crawling through mud!”

“I said wear clothes to get dirty.”

“Dirty and covered in mud from head to toe are two different things.” I was watching in horror as person after person dragged themselves on their bellies through a sloppy pit to touch dangling flags. Then there was the wall scaling. And the jumping over a line of fire. What the hell?

“What about this is supposed to be fun?”

“It’s sweaty, messy fun.”

“That’s sex.” Of which we were having none.

He frowned at me. “You don’t have to do it.”

“Well, of course I’m going to do it. I’m just a little surprised. Besides, I like to complain.”

“Really? I never noticed.” He laced his fingers through mine. “I bet you make this obstacle course your bitch.”

Holding hands in public was a new thing for me, and I had a weird appreciation for why people did it. It made me feel . . . wanted. Taken care of. I can’t say I’d felt that way in a long time. On the other hand, it felt a little like gloating—like look at me with my hot boyfriend. But I was okay with that.

Riley had taken off his shirt and yanked it on over my head. I don’t think it was a total coincidence that he did it after a guy in his thirties was checking me out. With my free hand, I traced the tattoo on his chest, trying to make sense of the dark figure and all the shading. “What is this, anyway?”