Know Me Well (Wishful 3)
“There wasn’t a mood to be killed. He’s not harboring some secret desire to strip me down and drizzle me in honey.” More’s the pity.
“Not a bad thing. Honey’s delicious, but hella sticky. You don’t want to mess with getting that out of your sheets.”
“Doesn’t matter, as he’s not going to be anywhere near my sheets.” Riley dropped her head back. “We’re friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.”
“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave it at that?”
“I’m not going to throw myself at him. He said he wants to be friends, so I’ll honor that.” It was the smart thing. The sensible thing.
“Even though you’re totally undressing him with your eyes every time he walks into a room?”
Riley draped an arm over her eyes. “I’ll get over it.” Somehow. In the long silence, she could feel Autumn’s eyes on her. “Feel free to offer up suggestions as to how I can speed that along.”
“You and Liam sizzle when you get within ten feet of each other.”
“Not useful, Autumn. I’m pretty sure you’re delusional.” The only one of them spontaneously combusting was her.
“Okay, okay, I know. Not helping. But maybe this will. Be right back.” Autumn came back a few minutes later with a stack of books. “If you’re serious about not going after him, then all you’ve got left is sublimation into more socially acceptable means.”
“Which are?”
Autumn set the books on the table. “Smexy romance novels with Marine heroes.”
Riley picked up the top one, Tawna Fenske’s Marine For Hire. “It’s sticky tabbed.”
“I marked the really good parts.”
Riley eyed the bristling pages.
“There are a lot of good parts,” Autumn said. “Anyway, since you’re determined to walk the safe path, it’s all I’ve got for you.”
Riley shot her a sympathetic look. “I guess you’re pretty familiar with that.”
Autumn bit into the bar of Godiva. “Girl, I’m so deep in that rut, I can hardly see out.”
“Well, at least you’ll have company. Where should I start?”
Chapter 6
Got a job. :) :) :)
Riley stared at her mother’s text from last night. She still hadn’t answered. What was the right response? Was it true? Or was Sharilyn just telling Riley what she wanted to hear? And if it was true, what kind of job was it? What on earth sort of work could she have found in less than twenty-four hours? Was it horrible? Did she want Riley to ask just so she could play martyr and show what new lows she’d sunk to in order to garner sympathies and force Riley to roll right on past the new boundary she’d set and rescue her again? Okay, maybe that was over-thinking. If it was horrible, she probably wouldn’t have added the smiley faces. But Riley couldn’t make herself call to get the details. She was too afraid of what she might hear. Her faith in her own resolve was running thin. But she had to say something.
Proud of you. Take care.
As Liam came out of the locker room and dumped a bag by the mats, Riley hit send and reached for the medallion around her neck. She brought it to her lips and said a little prayer. Daddy, look out for her. I’m trying to do the right thing.
“Problem?”
“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” Thinking about it was giving her a headache.
Liam straddled the bench beside her, looking all big and tough as he leaned toward her. “Talk to me.”
Riley shook her head. “I don’t want to dump on you.”
“It’s not dumping if I asked.”
She needed to talk to someone about it. Wynne would’ve been her first choice. But Wynne wasn’t here, and much as she tried to stay in touch, calling sporadically when she surfaced between clients, her life was in new Orleans now. Autumn would listen, but it wasn’t the same as telling someone who’d been around almost from the beginning, who’d seen what she went through. Liam had been there. She’d agreed they could be friends. Friends talked. Maybe it would get easier with practice.