“What?” I ask, pressing her to just lay it on me.
“You need to be honest with your feelings,” she says softly.
“I am,” I insist.
“You’re not. It bothers you he wouldn’t consider taking you as a date. You’re taking Devlin as payback. That means you’re invested.”
I refuse to accept any of that. “First, I’m not upset he isn’t taking me as a date. Second, Devlin isn’t payback. Third, I’m not invested.”
“That’s not convincing. You just regurgitated the opposite of what I said.”
“Well, I told him I’m bringing a date, so now I have to, regardless of my intentions originally.”
“If you say so,” she drawls.
“Listen,” I say somberly, “I’m okay, and I know this will never be anything but sex with Riggs. I don’t hope or wish for more. Come on, Clarke… you know I’m the last person in the world who wants love and all that yucky stuff that deals with feelings. Riggs is on the same page.”
“If you say so,” she repeats, her way of saying she’s not buying anything I’m selling.
I love her for loving me and being concerned, but truly… I got this. Riggs is a fun romp in the sack, and he’ll never be anything more. In fact, we need to have a conversation to clarify that this is not monogamous, and we’re both free to do what we want without any expectations of more.
CHAPTER 17
Riggs
I’m not an overly social guy, so attending Aaron and Clarke’s engagement party is uncomfortable. I’m absolutely on edge, though, waiting to see who Veronica shows up with.
The party is being held in a rented-out restaurant in Scottsdale. It wasn’t a blanket invite to the entire organization, rather only the team and their significant others, a few personal friends of Clarke’s, as well as her extended family. Aaron’s parents are not here, and I’d heard through the grapevine that he doesn’t have a relationship with them. I’m not sure the reason why nor do I need to know. But it is something he and I have in common.
I’m currently hanging out with a group of people who manage to keep the conversation going without my input. Dax and his wife Reagan, Kane and his fiancée Mollie, and to round out the group, Jett and his new girlfriend Emory. For once, Kane and Mollie are not talking about their wedding, which I am sure everyone is thankful for.
“How is Janelle doing?” Reagan asks me when there’s a break in the banter.
Reagan knows about my woes with my younger sister as I had an opportunity to talk to her last month after Dax connected us. She was raised by her brother, a professional hockey player, after their parents died, so she knows about what Janelle’s going through. After that conversation, Reagan and Dax had Janelle and me over for brunch at their house, and Reagan talked to Janelle about how difficult it is to be raised by a brother who doesn’t know how to raise kids and is gone half the time.
They definitely bonded.
Not as bonded as Veronica has become to Janelle, and vice versa. But they spend a lot of time together when Veronica watches her while I’m on road trips, some intermittent afternoons they work together at the bookstore, and the occasional trip out to Grandma Katie’s house.
“She’s doing fantastic,” I tell Reagan. “She loves the new school and seems to have really settled in.”
“It’s fantastic you got Veronica to watch her while you’re traveling,” Emory says. Not surprised she knows. Emory most likely heard from Jett who probably got it from Aaron. It’s the Vengeance gossip mill, but the information being passed is benign, and I don’t care who knows.
Something like that would have pissed me off a few short months ago, but now I manage a genuine smile at Emory. “I’m definitely fortunate to have Veronica.”
Except you don’t have her. She should be showing up here any time now with another guy.
Mollie changes the subject by nodding over at a table where Baden is talking to Emory’s sister, Jenna. “I’m glad to see Jenna came.”
Emory nods, smiling softly at her sister. “Me too. It’s good for her to get out and be social.”
I look at Jenna and Baden sitting together. I’ve met Emory’s sister on one other occasion, and I don’t know what her story is, but she has scars running down her jaw, along her neck, and disappearing into the collar of her shirt. Baden has scars of his own—a large one on his face from temple to jaw and several on his body that came as a result of his attack.
I wonder if they’re bonding over their shared pain.
My attention returns to the conversation. I realize I’ve missed something, but I’m able to pick up on the gist. “She’s not happy with her job. She wants to do print media, but it’s dying an ugly death. She wants to quit, but I’d hate for her to because she’s finally getting out of the house.”