“That freaked me out!” she declares as she sits back down, angling her body so we’re still close. She smacks her lips together and closes her eyes, and my heart does a triple beat. I swear she’s reading my mind. Could she tell I was daydreaming about kissing her?
“So?” she finally says.
“Yes?” I respond, my voice breathy. I know. I’m starting to be a little over the top, but I’m feeling vulnerable these days.
Her eyes snap back open. “Did you get the food off my face?”
It’s my turn to chew back a grin, which I do as I also slide a few inches back. I need to undo this electrical charge that’s flowing through my body and fast.
“Yes, it’s gone.” I pick up the croissant from my lap and take a big bite, letting the flakes fall everywhere, all down the front of me and onto my lap. “How about me? Did I drop anything?”
“You’re an actual hot mess.” Giggling, she wipes at my chest and stomach, stopping for a moment as she does. It can’t be a coincidence, but I swear I felt her hand flex as she stroked my abs. My eyes skip to hers and I see her jaw clench as she takes a tight breath. She pulls her hand away like she’s just touched a hot stovetop and jumps to her feet.
“I have a feeling,” she says, clearing her throat as she looks at her watch. “Yep, I need to get going. I have an appointment this morning.”
“You’re not trying to get away from me and my problems?” I tease, not wanting the morning time with Riley to end.
“I need to see a man about some truffles,” she says with a wink. “Actually mens, I need to see two mens about some truffles.”
“Mens? Like two men?”
“So I said mens, so what?” She’s smiling this smile that’s new to me in this conversation. This one is light and playful, and I can’t help but notice that she wrinkles her nose when she leans forward. “My friends have a farm outside of town and I get my truffles from them. I need to drive out and pick up my order for the private dinner.”
“Do you need company?”
Riley eyes me. “Don’t you need to practice or something?”
I shrug. “I can do it later. The rink is open until ten tonight, so there’s plenty of time.”
“Okay, December.” She runs her eyes across me, taking in my outfit. “I take it you need to change and shower before we go?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I have some calls I need to make and can do that from anywhere.” She pulls her keys out and shakes them in the air as she tosses our trash away and grabs her coffee cup. “Let’s go.”
Walking side by side with Riley to her car, there’s a thrill inside of me. I want to be closer to her, to get to know her more. I can’t even explain what the pull is to her, I only know I had it the moment I laid eyes on her. Now that I’m getting to know her, there’s more going on.
But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still my best friend’s little sister.
EIGHT
Riley
After a quick pit stop for Jake to shower and change, we’re on the road. I’d even managed to avoid running into my mother, who had texted me earlier in the morning asking if she could suggest a dish to serve for the dinner while also asking if I was dating anyone new. It’s a question she likes to ask me every few months, but for some reason leaves Travis alone. Shouldn’t the eldest sibling be the one to be quizzed on that kind of thing? I have an unholy fear that she’ll do something insane like try to set me up with someone. I love this woman dearly, but her inserting herself into my love life is the last thing I need.
Beside me, in the passenger seat, Jake looks around. He opens the glove box and pulls out a box of tissues and the leftovers from a candy bar, plus another odd-looking white plastic contraption no bigger than a small votive that he holds in the air.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Why are you looking at my things?” My laugh is nervous because I can't remember what all I have in here. I wouldn’t be surprised if a bra fell out onto his feet, I’ve been that busy lately.
“You can learn a lot about someone when you get into their car.” He holds up the plastic item again. “So, any thoughts?”
I take it from his hand and, removing my eyes from the road for a second, glance at it quickly. Still unsure, I hold it to my nose and take a sniff.
“What are you doing?”
“Smelling it, duh,” I say, handing it back to him. “It smells like watermelon, which means it’s the remnants of a candy ring. You know, the kind that looks like a giant diamond, but it’s candy?”
