Page 6 of Riding the High

I don’t wait. The offer expires in 3, 2 …

I unlock my adjoining door and knock at hers just as the last text comes through, and she swings it open with an eyebrow raise and a sexy smirk.

“Such a good boy. Hope you brought that wallet.” She smiles, reaching up to pat me on the head as if I’m five. Her tone is full of her trademark sass but zero judgment, and just walking in here feels like entering a safe space. Her club attire is long gone and she stands in the middle of her tidy room, hair piled high on her head, fresh-faced, wearing sleep shorts and a tank.

“You would’ve let me in anyway and you know it.” I pinch her shirt playfully on the way in and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding until the moment I saw her pretty face.

CHAPTER TWO

Ginger

Of course he was pushing some woman to the elevator when I got off. Typical ColeWestonAshby. To say he’s never been a real one-woman man since his disaster of a marriage would be an understatement. I’m not sure if he’ll ever settle down again. I’d be okay if he didn’t, at least for a little while. I like what we have. Over the last couple years we’ve become friends, sort of. I mean, Cole is definitely the one that pushes all my buttons but he’s also the first person I’d call to bail me out of jail.

Our friendship is unique, and it’s enough. After all, sometimes I get lonely too. Hookups are easy, but finding someone you don’t hate watching TV with? Someone that actually puts the comfortable in comfortable silence? Not so much.

“I ordered room service. Pizza and nachos. Figured you’d need to replenish your carbs after your ‘workout,’” I tell him as he breezes through the door. His sweatshirt sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, his arm bearing Mabel’s name in ink. He’s wearing grey Nike sweatpants that fit him just right, his wet hair from the shower touches his forehead and he smells so damn good. Too good.

If he wasn’t Cole … I would be having totally different thoughts about how this night should go.

“You tracking my every move?” he jokes. “What are the odds you walk out the elevator the second she leaves?”

I laugh and tighten my messy bun.

“It’s programmed into my psyche to not be around when you’re in the middle of … that.” I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sure my body would recover if I had to listen to you and your lady friends.” I hold my hands to my heart.

“Oh Weston,” I fake-moan in my highest-pitched voice. “I never do this. Tell me again how you don’t either,” I mock. “That’s it, right there …” I fall back on the couch in a fit of giggles. Cole grimaces in response.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Cole says, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “Just put the show on, woman.”

Cole makes his way to my minibar and grabs himself a Coke, then settles on the sofa beside me.

“Seriously though, she re-up your cup?” I ask him.

He gives me a serious look. “It’s hurtful that you think so little of me. How do you know I don’t have feelings for Stacey? An instant connection that neither of us could fight?”

I laugh in spite of myself, then pat him on the head. “Well, for one, because I met her at the race and her name isTracey.”

Cole chuckles in defeat.

“And two, becauseshe’snot here. Instead, you’re spending your Saturday night watching Jake and Amy.” I toss a Skittle at him. “With me.”

He picks it off his sweater and pops it in his mouth. “She was alright.”

“What’s her story?”

“Kept telling me to call her Miss Riverbend County.” Cole snickers as he cracks his soda. I let the ridiculousness of that scenario play out in my mind.

Cole lets his head fall back on the back of the sofa and groans.

“Fuck, I have to get my shit together. I’m the sheriff now. Nights like these need to stop.” He’s muttering to himself like he does sometimes around me.

I pull my legs up to my chest. I try to be the only person that doesn’t judge him. He is who he is, and when the hell else is he supposed to get laid with a daughter to care for 24/7? Hooking up is his way of escaping his everyday life.

“You have a lot on your shoulders. Tomorrow is a new day.” I smile at him as the knock at the door tells us our pizza is here.

“That’s what you say every time.” He smirks and gets up to grab our food.

We watch our favorite episodes ofBrooklyn 99for the next hour while chatting about everything and anything: my summer, Nash and CeCe’s wedding, our friend group’s trip to Vegas next weekend. The conversation flows easy but, then again, it always does.

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