My Last - Riley & Chelle (9 page)

Riley paid the delivery man and brought the bags of Chinese take-out to the kitchen table.

“So this is the best Chinese take-out in the city, huh?”

Chelle sat the plates and forks on the table.

“That was what Katie claimed,” she said, stepping back into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine, “So the first night I got here I tried it, and after one bite I was convinced.”

Riley winked. “That would explain all of the San Tung containers I cleaned up from this place last night.”

“Yeah,” Chelle blushed and smiled as she slid into the chair opposite Riley, “I’m a stress eater, what can I say.”

Thinking that this was as good an opening as any, Riley decided to go ahead and address the elephant in the room, “So the whole thing with David came as shock?”

After a few moments of silence, she said, “Yes and no. When he first told me, I admit I was completely blindsided by it. I think part of that had to do with his timing, though. I was so focused on Katie and Jason’s wedding.”

“And what about the ‘no’?” Riley figured he might as well go all in. In for a buck, in for a quarter.

“The what?”

“You said yes and no. What about the no?”

“Oh, well, I just meant that after I had some time to think about it, about our relationship I mean, it doesn’t shock me very much that he cheated. Looking back now, I guess all the signs were there. The late night meetings, the weekend business trips, the plans that he canceled at the last minute because 'something came up at work.' So cliché. That's one of the worst parts. He made me feel trite. I should have known something was up. I should have questioned him. But, what can I say? I trusted him. The thought never even crossed my mind that he would be cheating on me.”

“He’s an idiot,” Riley grumbled, all the while stuffing his face with chow mein.

Chelle smiled, “You definitely won’t get an argument from me about that. And to tell you the truth, I’m not even mad he doesn't want to be with me. Really, I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. I just don’t like all the lying and sneaking around. I mean, seriously? Why not just leave me if Kayla was the one he wanted to be with? Why wait until she’s pregnant to walk away? I guess I should just be happy he didn’t take me on Jerry Springer to break the news...” She shrugged and scooped out more fried rice onto her plate.

“Enough of my drama, what about you? Do you have anyone serious in your life?” She looked down at her food as she poured soy sauce over her rice.

“I’m not in a relationship.”

Her gaze still downward, she continued pouring soy sauce over the rest of her plate, “What's the longest relationship you’ve had?”

“A couple of years.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, abandoning her pretense of nonchalance, “Really! That’s a long time. Were you engaged or anything?”

“Nope. Actually, that was part of the reason we broke up. She wanted to move things along and I was more than happy to keep them exactly where they were.”

“Was it just that she wasn’t the right one? Do you ever want to get married?”

If anyone else, at any other time, had asked Riley that question the answer would have come easily - “NO”. But right now, sitting across from Chelle, looking into her big doe eyes...he didn’t know what he felt about wanting to get married. But, regardless of his feelings, the fact that he
wouldn’t
get married hadn’t changed. That fact remained immutable.

“Whether I want to or not doesn’t matter. I’m not ever getting married.”

Chelle nodded, seeming to understand, “Because of what you saw happen with your Mom and Dad.”

“No.” He hadn’t thought his response had come out sounding harsh, but the hurt expression on Chelle’s face told him it had.

He tried to soften his tone. “I’m just not that 'forever' guy. I’m not cut out for marriage.”

“Really? Why not?”

He didn’t answer. He wasn’t trying to give her the silent treatment or anything. He just didn’t know what to say.

“Is it because you can’t imagine being with only one person for the rest of your life?”

“No,” he answered honestly.

“Then what is it? If it’s not about your parents and it’s not that you don’t think you could be happy with just one person, then what is it?”

Again, he didn’t answer.

After waiting several minutes for him to respond she finally just smiled and said, “Well, I for one think you would make a great husband.”

He didn’t know how she always did that. How she always knew the real reasons behind his behavior. It was like she had a direct line to his soul. It was unnerving.

“And an amazing dad,” she added before stuffing her face full of rice.

She chewed, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel who was storing nuts for the winter. He felt a smile spread across his face. Chelle Thomas was equally as adorable as she was sexy.

--- ~ ---

Chelle laid in bed and mentally kicked herself. Why had she gone down that line of questioning with him?

Oh right, because she had been feeling guilty about their momentary lip-lock and was scared that she may have inadvertently been a participant in cheating. She was not “the other woman” kind of a girl. She liked having a clear conscience and being able to sleep at night (current evidence of both to the contrary!).

She should have just stopped there. As soon as he said he wasn’t in a relationship, she should have zipped it. But, no. She
had
to add a follow-up question.

And. for the life of her, she could never guess what had prompted her to say that he would make a good husband...and dad.

Holy Flipping Moly!

He had just said
in no uncertain
terms
that he didn’t want to get married. And she had no idea what his feelings were about becoming a father, but she was pretty sure he didn’t need (or want!) her opinion on the matter.

Tossing and turning, she looked over at the clock beside the bed and saw that it was just past one. She had been laying sleeplessly in bed for over two hours and was starting to think that she may not be getting to sleep anytime soon, either.

Earlier, when neither of them could possibly eat another bite, they had decided to watch some TV. As the television program wore on, blue light flickering into the darkened room, Riley began to nod off. Chelle had thought that he must be exhausted, not having gotten any sleep at all the night before.

So, instead of waiting for him to call it a night, she lied and said that she was worn out from their day of sightseeing and wanted to hit the sheets.

Although he had tried to hide it, she could tell he was relieved at the prospect of being able to get some sleep. He asked if it would be okay if he just took a quick shower first, since he hadn’t had one that morning.

For a moment, she hadn’t been able to respond. The mental image that his request inspired left her temporarily mute. Even after a full minute, she could only squeak out a high-pitched, “Yes”.

While he was busy in the shower, she had busied herself with both making up a bed for him on the couch and banishing thoughts of his wet, naked body from her mind. The latter was significantly more challenging than the former!

She had tried to insist on sleeping on the couch herself, since she was barely 5’4” and he was well over 6 feet tall, but he scowled and said that wasn’t up for discussion.

SWOON! Chivalry wasn't dead.

When he had finished showering, they had said an awkward goodnight and she had thanked him again for the day. Then, just as the tension between them began to ratchet up in a serious way, she had practically sprinted into the bedroom.

Holy Roly Poly Moly!

Riley, freshly showered and wearing nothing but baggy sweats, was more temptation than any woman should ever be faced with! Well...more than any woman should ever be faced with and be expected not to give in to, at any rate, she grimaced.

Now, lying restlessly in her bed, she started counting sheep like she had when she was a little girl. She sighed. It didn’t work any better now than it had then.

Ugh! She couldn’t even go watch TV because it was out in the room that was currently being occupied by one half-naked Riley Sloan.

At least...she assumed that he was still only half-naked. Hmm...interesting. Was there a plausible scenario that might result in him being entirely naked right now? The possibility was...

STOP!

Chelle chided herself sternly. Seriously, girl, she thought to herself, get it together! There is more to life than picturing Riley Sloan naked!

However, when pressed to think of what that 'more' might consist of, she found herself drawing a blank.

She did have a book that she had been reading but, it was a romance novel. Last thing she needed, especially if she was trying get off the kick she seemed to be on of picturing Riley naked. And...other stuff. Like the things she would DO to him if she walked in and found him naked...STOP!

Yeah. She clearly did not need to have her mind filled with the images the book inspired. She was obviously having a hard enough time keeping her mind out of the gutter without the additional literary inspiration.

So, after considering all of the non-narcotic sleep inducing techniques at her disposal, she had finally settled on counting backwards from one thousand. At around the six hundred mark, she had finally begun to drift off when she was startled awake by the sound of someone crying out.

It was Riley.

Her heart began to race as she felt adrenaline flood her veins. She flew out of bed and raced into the living room, heart pounding in anticipation of what terrible scene might await her when she got there.

What she saw was Riley, alone on the couch, seemingly engaged in a battle with his blanket. He thrashed back and forth for a few seconds and then cried out again. She saw the anguish on his face and her heart broke in two.

She stood, watching him suffer, torn as to what action she should take next. She knew that there were conflicting theories when it came to whether or not you should wake someone who was having a nightmare. She briefly battled within herself, trying to decide which way was right, trying to remember what each study had said, trying to come to a decision about what the most medically responsible decision would be in this instance.

Then Riley cried out once more, the sound of his anguish filling the air, and Chelle decided she didn’t care what the studies said. She could not sit idly by while he was being tortured - even if he wasn’t consciously aware of what was going on.

She knelt beside the couch. “Riley,” she said softly, attempting to sound as calming as possible.

It didn’t have any effect, though, and he continued his thrashing.

“Riley,” she said in a louder, stronger tone.

Still no response. His night terror seemed to be getting worse. His movements were more erratic and his face contorted even more painfully.

She felt a tear fall from her eye. She hated seeing him this way. She felt as if her heart were being torn in two. Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out and touched his chest. When she again uttered his name, the tortured quality of her voice matched that of his own cries.

Suddenly, his hand clamped down over hers, grabbing it tightly and holding it against his warm skin. His eyes flew open, looking beyond her with a wild, frenetic gaze. The pressure he exerted in squeezing her hand to himself nearly crossed the threshold into pain.

“Riley,” she said urgently, “It’s me. It’s Chelle. Wake up.”

Chelle could feel his heart pounding furiously beneath her palm. Her heart ached for him. The powerful need she felt to help him was matched only by her overwhelming sense of powerlessness to do so.

She didn't know what to do. Ideas for various courses of action ping-ponged around inside her brain until she felt that her mind was swimming with conflicting courses of action and all that she could do was tread water. She felt that she must do
something
, but by the same token, she definitely did not want to make the situation worse!

She just wanted him to know she was here if he needed her. The desire to take away any pain or fear he felt flooded her entire body.

Instinctively she moved onto the couch. She laid down beside him, her body pressed tightly against his, her head resting against his chest.

The instant she laid her head on his chest, his body began to relax. He slumped back down, his back lying flat against the pillows, his breath shallow and rapid. She stayed, lying beside him, stroking his hair gently.

After a few moments his arm wrapped possessively around her, his hand landing on her hip. She froze, waiting for him to say something, to address what was happening. When he didn’t speak, she carefully peaked up at him, trying as best she could not to move anything except her eyes.

She couldn’t see much from her awkward position, but she could tell that Riley’s eyes were closed. His mouth was slightly open and she had to stop herself from reaching up and
pressing her lips to his. The kiss they had shared down on the wharf had only made her want more.