Page 50 of After Tonight

8

So Riley Ames had just rocked his world.

He’d expected it to be good. To be really good.

He hadn’t expected to want to throw her over his shoulder, carry her to bed and never let her leave. He was always pretty ready for them to leave. He never wanted to keep them. He had to-go coffee cups, for fuck’s sake.

But he never wanted Riley to drink coffee anywhere else.

Damn, this had gotten complicated and messy. Really fucking fast.

He finally kissed her shoulder and moved back. She turned in his arms, and they kissed long and deep. He couldn’t keep his hands off her ass.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said against her lips, squeezing that ass.

But he felt her push him back. She pressed her lips together and looked up at him, adorably disheveled and flushed.

“We probably shouldn’t do that.”

He lifted a brow. Oh, they definitely should. “Why not?”

He could tell she was considering not telling him what she was really thinking. He squeezed her ass. “Don’t lie to me, Ry.”

If she was surprised he knew what she was thinking, she didn’t show it. She took a breath. “Because if we go to bed, we’re both not getting anything else done today and you’ll be late to work.”

Okay, that was all true. And hearing her say it was hotter than hell. He leaned in and kissed her, then said, “Sounds about right.”

“And we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“The guy who’s always around, doing everything for everyone, suddenly disappears for a day? I think they’ll notice.”

“They?” But yeah, they would.

“The whole entire town.” She pushed him back, and his hands slipped from her butt.

He sighed.

She laughed. “Yeah, being the town’s favorite person might have a drawback or two.”

Normally having stuff to do, places to go, people waiting for him to show up, was a fantastic excuse to get gone. Now, he was regretting everything.

And that was, actually, what pulled him out of the Riley daze. He didn’t want to have to report in about everything he was doing to anyone, and he didn’t want someone coming along and changing up his routines and, hell, his life. He liked things the way they were. Being with a woman who he’d grown addicted to within only a few days of hanging out and after fucking her once against the wall was not a part of the plan here.

That hit him right in the chest. He was looking for a relationship, but he was looking for one with someone who wouldn’t mess with his life and who wouldn’t—and he cringed even thinking it—be someone he could be so wrapped up in, he wouldn’t want to do anything else.

Shit.

Fuck.

Damn.

That was a crappy way to approach a relationship. Even he knew that. If he didn’t want to be involved in someone else’s life and have them involved in his, then he shouldn’t be in a relationship.

Which was exactly why he’d avoided it until now.

His dad tried to juggle everything—his interests and the things he needed and wanted to do, with his wife’s constant need for reassurance—and it never worked. For either of them. She wondered where he was. He hated that she didn’t trust him. Then he felt guilty for not giving her all the reassurances she wanted, and she felt guilty for needing them in the first place.

---