Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

“I’m done. I’m tapping out. I have paid and paid and paid for your mistakes and bad judgment, and I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t have it to give. Every penny I have has been sunk into the pharmacy.”

“You’re…you’re just going to leave me out here?” Sharilyn’s voice shot high with incredulity and not a little bit of fear.

“I’m telling you I don’t have any money I can loan you. You’ll have to pick up some kind of temporary work. Earn enough for a bus ticket home.”

“But I don’t have any skills!”

Right. Because professional damsel in distress was not exactly the most stellar career move.

“You can wash dishes. Wait tables. It’s time you learned how to take care of yourself.” Because God knows no one else had ever made her

.

“But Riley—”

“I have to go, Mom. Good luck.”

She hung up before the tears could start.

~*~

Liam found Riley in the office, her head pressed to the desk, her shoulders slumped.

“Everything okay?”

She jolted upright as if he’d shocked her. “Fine.” But he could see the strain around her eyes and hear the slight catch in her voice that said otherwise.

He might’ve thought that had something to do with him, except he’d heard enough to know it was her mother on the phone. They hadn’t had an easy relationship back when she was younger. Liam doubted that had changed. He considered asking about it, bullying her until she spilled whatever was on her mind. But she hadn’t pressed his tender spot about his dad, and he didn’t think she’d welcome the intrusion.

Riley got to her feet. “Did you sort out whatever you needed to on the storeroom?” She held herself stiff, clearly waiting for him to get the hell out of her way.

He didn’t need to know the why to help. “Yep. Come here.” Without waiting for her acquiescence, Liam tugged her into his arms.

She shoved at his chest, trying to step back. “What are you doing?” Was that a faint trace of panic in her tone?

“You’re upset about something. Figured you could use a hug.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

It didn’t seem worth pointing out that he’d always been able to read her better than that. “Riley, you don’t have to talk about it. You don’t even have to acknowledge it. But for once in your life, lean for two damn minutes. I promise I won’t tell.”

With an annoyed sort of growl, she gave a half-hearted shove before finally giving up, dropping her head against his chest and sliding her arms around his waist. He stroked a hand up and down her back. Degree by slow degree, she relaxed. Liam tried his damnedest not to think about how good she felt against him or to notice the pretty floral scent to her hair.

“I forgot what good hugs you give,” she murmured.

She’d been very much still a girl the last time he’d hugged her. She wasn’t a girl now.

“What’re friends for?”

She gave him an odd look as she stepped away. “I don’t know what the hell we were, but it was never anything so simple as friends.”

That was undoubtedly true.

He probably should’ve let it go, but this was as honest as they’d been with each other in twelve years. “I’d like to be.”

It was the truth, if not the whole truth, and it was all he dared hope for after how they’d left things when he’d enlisted.

Riley inclined her head. “Well, you’re certainly holding up your end of the deal.”