The Problem with Forever

“I don’t know. Maybe...maybe an hour or so?” My hands felt incredibly small in his.

That lopsided grin was back. “I doubt they’d be happy to find me here.”

“Why?”

His brows rose. “Maybe I’m wrong. They used to coming home to find some strange guy sitting on their couch?”

I rolled my eyes.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Rider tugged on my hands, and I rose, letting him pull me down to the couch beside him. He leaned back, sliding one arm around my shoulders and tucking me against his side. “Just par for the course with you, huh?”

I didn’t know what to do with my hands since he’d let go of them, so I folded them in my lap. “I’ve never had a...guy here.”

Rider stiffened and then he twisted his neck so he was looking at me.

Did I seriously admit that out loud? Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed. “I’m just...going to shut up now.”

He chuckled. “Don’t do that. I like listening to you talk.”

With our sides pressed together and his arm around my shoulders, it was like having one foot in the past and one in the present. Being this close now felt totally different than before. If only the TV had been on, I imagined we’d be following in the footsteps of couples all over the world, cuddled up as we were.

Except we weren’t a couple.

I really needed to get that thought out of my head. “You didn’t, um, miss much in class. We have to read examples of...informative speeches.”

“Sounds fun.”

Our gazes met briefly, and I looked away. “Where have you been, Rider?”

Rider was silent as he slid his hand up my arm. His fingers brushed over the bare skin of my shoulder as he curved his hand there. It seemed like such an unconscious move, but tiny bumps formed on my skin, chasing the caress. “Hector and I needed to talk to some people.”

My gaze shifted up to his again. “Does talking involve fists?”

A wry grin formed. “Sometimes.” He reached up, wiggling the knot of hair piled atop my head. “Hector’s brother...he’s young. Jayden’s just fifteen, but sometimes he seems even younger than that. You know, mentally, and he gets himself into some trouble.”

Staring up at him, I was struck again by the fact that some things didn’t change. Or maybe it was some traits in people. “So you’re helping him out of trouble?”

“Trying,” he murmured, resting his head against the back of the cushion. His eyes took on a hooded, lazy quality as he continued to mess with my hair. I had no idea what he was doing. “Anyway, we talked yesterday. Made sure Jayden got his ass to class today. The talking didn’t go as smoothly this evening.”

Oh my God, I wanted to hug him and punch him. “Rider—”

“Did you ever think we’d be sitting here?” he asked.

“You’re changing the subject,” I pointed out.

“I am.” He flashed a quick, impish grin. “But did you?”

“No,” I admitted, swallowing against the sudden lump in my throat. “I never thought...I’d see you again. I hoped that I would.”

“Hoping never really got us anywhere, did it?”

I shook my head. Growing up as we did, we learned real quick to get on a first-name basis with reality. Things like hope and aspirations had seemed like dreams and fantasies.

Rider’s fingers kept moving along the knot and before I knew it, he’d worked the bun loose. My hair fell past my shoulders, a tangled mess of waves. “I like it down,” he said, and the hollows of his cheeks pinked as he dropped his hand. His fingers grazed my upper arm. “Though I kind of miss the orange. Made it easy to pick you out in a crowd.”

“Thanks.”

He laughed. “Ah, I’m lying. Still easy to pick you out. A mile away,” he added, almost as an afterthought.