Page 28 of Played

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The driveway wound through the ranch’s property and solar lights lit the way. Riot took in the expanse of the house as he pulled in front. She had done well for herself, while he had been drunk and high for most of the past seven years. Putting the car in park, he sat facing out the window, worrying, wondering.

“Riot, if you don’t want to come in…” River paused when he looked at her. The expression on his rugged face was haunted. What had happened to him over the past years? What had Laurel done to him to keep him with her?

Running a hand over the steering wheel, Riot turned from her, thinking of the right words. Words that wouldn’t make him look weak in River’s eyes. He had shoved her away until she stayed away. Florida had come calling, and he made her feel like shit for going. “When you left for Florida, I thought you would come back.” He remained staring straight ahead to not see the lies she would say. As if that would change them.

“You texted me while I was there. Riot… maybe it was the pain meds they had you on I don’t know. You sent me a text and I still have a screenshot of it.” River reached down and grabbed her phone, scrolling through the hundreds of saved images until she found the one she had saved all these years.

“Why would you keep it?”

“To remind me never to love anyone ever again.”

Riot took the phone and blew the image up so he could read it.

River: have you seen the news tonight?

Riot: Sorry River, Laurel just understands where my head’s at right now.

His hands trembled as he handed the phone back to her. “When did you receive that message?” he asked, his voice barely audible. River shrugged, telling him the story of her sitting in a bar with the other racers while Laurel Canyon made it sound like River had deserted him to chase her own dreams, leaving him without anyone. Except, of course, Riot’s friend Laurel was there to help him heal. “I tried calling you a dozen times that night. I wanted to hear you tell me that bullshit. You never answered, except to send another text telling me to leave it alone.”

“I swear to you, River. I never sent that message.”

“Doesn’t matter now. It’s the past.” The problem was it mattered; it had always mattered because she had lived with the heartache of the man she loved choosing a lying bitch over her.

It mattered to him because he thought all these years she had left him because he was less than he had been. That the scars turned her away. That somehow she had blamed him for the Cypress. Hell, he blamed himself. All those things had been fed to him daily for months from none other than Laurel. “I haven’t been with her in six years. I’ve woken up after a night of drinking with her in my bed, but I don’t remember ever touching her.”

River sat with her hands in her lap, fiddling with the phone like it would give her the magic answers. “I can’t tell you that I believe you. I can tell you that there hasn’t been another man in my life since you.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

Riot rested his head on the steering wheel. “If neither one of us has been sexually active this is gonna be fast the first time.”

River laughed—she couldn’t help it. The tension eased away as it always had when it was just the two of them. “What a way to come off the heavy, Riot.”

“Yeah, I know, but it was about to weigh a ton in here and I’m not ready for it just yet.”

“Can we just have tonight, and tomorrow can be whatever it’s supposed to be?”

“Yes, that I can do for you.”

Chapter Twelve

Riot whistled low as he stepped into River’s ranch house. He loved the setup. It was a traditional 1950s style ranch with high vaulted ceilings and an open concept joining the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The back side of the area was a full bank of windows looking out onto a patio and pool. “Two or three bedrooms?”

“Three,” she said, tossing her purse on the counter. “Would you like a drink?”

“I quit drinking months ago.”

“Water?”

“Water would be good.”

They were skirting around each other, both nervous, both trying to figure out the next move. River didn’t want a drink, she wanted him. She had always wanted him. She pushed away from the counter and walked around the counter to where Riot stood looking out onto her patio.It’s a nice view, she thought. Reaching up, she pressed her hand against his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. The smoldering look in his eyes told her he wasn’t wanting water either.

His arms pulled her against his body. He felt so good, all the hard muscle beneath the designer suit. The heat, the passion—it was all still there in his eyes. Riot claimed her mouth with his, his tongue delving into her. There was no time to resist, no time to think “what if” as his hands moved along her body, the satin fabric of the dress moving with them. Higher and higher the dress rose. Tiny moments of flesh skimming flesh had River pressing harder against him. How much longer would he tease her? She got her answer when the satin bunched around her bottom and he picked her up. River’s legs wrapped around his waist by their own volition.

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