Page 18 of Tin

I twist my mouth back and forth while I contemplate my next move. There’s a second door just three feet down from Riker’s. I always assumed it went to the main part of the house. Maybe I was wrong.

With limited options, I reach for the handle. It’s unlocked and the door opens, revealing a dimly lit spiral staircase leading straight to the top.

“Well, bud, I think you’re going to have to sit this one out.” I walk back over to Riker’s place and try his door. It gives way instantly, and Harley runs inside and goes right to his blanket. “See you in a bit.” I close the door again and head back to the staircase.

Taking two steps at a time, I hurry upstairs.

Because I’m eager to see the view from up there.

Not because I want to see him.

I do want to see him.

Damn you, lust, you horny bitch.

As I pass the second floor, I notice the door to the main living area is cracked open. Curiosity gets the better of me, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I detour onto the small landing leading up to it. There’s barely any light, but my eyes have adjusted enough to the dark for me to make out some very noticeable basics. For starters, the place is completely trashed. There’s broken frames lying scattered in the foyer, and from what I can tell there’s no furniture. My first instinct is to run upstairs and tell Riker the Shepherdsons have been robbed. Then I realize how ridiculous that is. I mean, he lives right downstairs. He walked by here same as I did. He would have to know.

Which brings me to my second realization. I haven’t seen a single renter since I’ve been coming here. Whoever this James Shepherdson is that’s running the family business, he sure seems to be doing a shit job of it. Or, as Nate so kindly put it, he’s definitely unmotivated.

But then, who am I to judge? The only thing motivating me these days is the prospect of getting naked with Riker. That’s not exactly what I’d deem an admirable ambition in life.

Properly grossed out with myself, I return to the stairs and this time don’t get distracted until I reach the top.

“I was starting to think I didn’t leave you with good enough instructions.” He’s standing near the railing, smirking and wearing entirely too many clothes for my liking. Then I notice the table. And the takeout boxes.

“What’s all this?” I can hear myself. I sound...pleased. Happy, even.

“Just burgers. Fries.” He picks up one of the Styrofoam boxes and hands it to me before taking one for himself. “I didn’t have a chance to eat before, and I knew you’d be coming over, so...” He shrugs. Like it’s no big deal. Except we both know it is.

“You know, you don’t have to be nice to me. I’m going to sleep with you anyway because you’re sonice looking.” I stack my box on top of his to free my hands so I can take ahold of his face and pull him toward me. Usually, I let him do the initiating. I don’t know why. Maybe he just always beats me to it. Today, it’s my turn to kiss him. And I do. Long and fervidly, until every other part of my day disappears and he’s the only thing left.

“I missed you today.” His words rumble quietly into my mouth as he slowly breaks away.

“You saw me this morning.” I want to sound stern. I don’t. But I want to.

“I know.” He grins wickedly, and I know we’re about to go from sweet to dirty. “But then when you were leaving, I saw you stop and bend over to fix your shoelace, and I’ve been thinking about getting you back into that exact position alldamn day.”

Simultaneously, our eyes travel toward the railing, and I suddenly have a pretty good idea why we’re up here tonight. “Sex with a view. I like it.”

He chuckles, and my stomach flips back and forth at the deep sound. “But first, we eat.” Still holding both of our boxes, he takes a seat in the chaise lounge, gesturing for me to come and sit with him. Straddling the back end of it to face him, I slide both legs over his knees, leaving just enough room for our food between us.

“Saw you running over from up here,” he says, about to take his first bite.

I’ve already had mine, and I hurry and swallow to answer him. “Oh yeah?”

He nods. “You were talking to yourself. You looked pissed.”

I was. And I wasn’t so much talking to myself as I was making all the arguments I should have made to Kirsten against going on this stupid date tomorrow night. “Just finishing up a chat I had with my sister before I left. Unfortunately, I’m one of those people who always thinks of the perfect thing to say ten minutes after the conversation is already over.”

He’s chewing. And thinking. “What was the conversation about?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. She wants to run my life for me. And that apparently now includes finding me the perfect man.” I squirt the contents of a ketchup packet into the corner of my box. “So, naturally, I have a date tomorrow night.”

I purposely pretend to be extra focused on the french fry I’m swirling around in my ketchup, but I can feel his legs tense up under mine. He’s surprised by the news.

“A date? With whom?” He sounds casual. Like we’re just making small talk.

“Some guy Nate works with. Carson Winn.” I shrug. I haven’t had a chance to google yet, so that’s all Iknow.

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