The Blind Date

“Enjoy the current success. Think back to the day you made those statistical predictions. If Past Noah had been told that you’d hit them right on the money, you would’ve been thrilled. So these numbers are worth celebrating,” Riley says in her sunny, positive way. “As for moving forward, you and River will work it out and get through the growing pains. I have faith in the two of you. Mostly you.” She winks, letting me know that she’s not discounting her brother in any way but is building me up, supporting me, and being a cheerleader for my dreams.

Failure isn’t an option to her, not because things don’t sometimes work the way you want them to but because if it doesn’t happen, it’s merely because something else was meant to be.

Everything is an opportunity in Riley Watson’s eyes.

I wish I could see the world that way. It’s not all fail or succeed, worthy or not now. She is changing me for the better, but it’s an ongoing process. I’d like to think I’m having a positive impact on her too, being a place where she can relax and let someone take care of her for a change. I’m good at that. Taking care of people is where I thrive.

“Thank you,” I tell her genuinely. With a smirk, I agree, “Especially the ‘me’ part. Carrying River is getting to be a pain in the ass.”

Riley laughs, digging into her plate of noodles. “Ooh, you’re in trouble. I’m totally telling him you said that.”

“You think he doesn’t know?” I joke back, enjoying that we can joke about our siblings now that everything’s in the open and our families are on board with us. Not that any argument from them would’ve changed things, but we love our families, and their support makes this easier for Riley and me.

We finish dinner and put our plates in the dishwasher. Riley wipes down the counter, but I notice she’s cleaning the same already-spotless area over and over. I lean back on the cabinet, crossing my arms over my chest.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” I ask.

She pauses, looking over her shoulder at me. “I’m guessing that if you were busy at work today and getting stuff for Raffy, you didn’t look at my page?”

Worry crosses her eyes, a shadow below the light that usually resides there. I don’t like it, not one bit. Whatever’s on her page, I want to slay the dragon that made the little crinkle between her brows appear.

“No, I didn’t have a chance. What happened? Who do I need to kill?” I tease, trying to get a smile from her.

Her lips lift, but it’s a ghost of her usual sunniness. “Remember I said we should see if you can take it? And then decide on whether to do a full reveal of . . . us?”

That pause hurts. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s going on, but it hurts that Riley seems uncertain about us. No, about me . . . if I can take it.

“Yeah, it sounds like I need to see what folks said?”

Riley gets her laptop from her bag and guides me to the couch. I sit down beside her, and she folds her legs, cradling the computer in her lap.

“I just want you to see what the reaction was,” Riley says. “It was something I had to get used to. It takes a lot of getting used to.”

Riley pulls up her social media feed and scrolls down a bit. I notice she’s made two other posts since our pic at the water park, and I look closer. In both of the newer pics, she doesn’t have the slightly pink nose from our time in the sun at the doggy water park. “Did you edit out your sunburn?”

“No.” Riley points out the timing on one post and explains, “You can pre-set a post. It’s one of my weekly prep things. I go through and put together at least seven posts that are pre-set to post daily. Usually, they’re either the daily affirmations or the sponsored posts since most of them are shot a week or more in advance, so those are pictures from before.”

“Our social media team for BlindDate does stuff like that too, but I leave the details to them. I just want the data.” I lean toward her and peck the tip of her nose. “I like your pink nose. It’s cute.”

Riley’s cheeks flush, matching her nose a bit, as she pulls up the post of our picture at the dog park. The first thing I see are the hearts. “Wow . . . twenty thousand likes?”

“A high number, but I’m not surprised,” Riley says with a grin as she cups my jaw. It’s freshly shaven today, no scruff like in the picture. “But the real deal’s in the comments.”