Sweet

Chapter Nine

After eight hours of sleep, I emerged from my room, hoping that Riley and I could just pretend the night before hadn’t happened and go back to our easy companionship.

But he wasn’t even home.

Which surprised me, because it was Sunday, and he didn’t have to work. We had been planning to finish the house cleanup in anticipation of his brothers coming home on Monday. I poked around, but there was no note in the kitchen, no text on my phone from him. He just wasn’t there, and empty, the house felt lonely. Which was dumb, because I’d been alone in the house before, but this was different. It felt forlorn in the aftermath of our fight, if you could call it that.

After eating a yogurt and drinking a soft drink, I showered and decided that Riley or not, I was going to finish the job I’d started. For ten minutes, I Febrezed the shit out of the couch to get the smell of smoke out of it. I dumped the ashtray in the trash bin out back and after rinsing it with the hose, set it on the picnic table. The smoking lounge in the living room was closed as far as I was concerned.

Then I took the pictures we had printed from his phone at the drugstore as eight-by-ten-size prints for less than twenty bucks, and the roll of bright blue polka dot duct tape I had bought, and started to hang them in the hallway. There was no way we could afford to buy frames for eight pictures, so I had figured the decorative duct tape would have to do. It would look like a design choice, not cheap.

It looked fantastic, I have to say, a neat row of black-and-white family shots all down the hallway, moments of joy and togetherness. I was proud of having giving the Mann brothers a nicer environment to live in, to display their unique pictures on the wall, to give them a visual sense of what they already knew. But at the same time, it made me felt lonely all over again. Riley had insisted on printing our mustache shot, since he said it was my hard work that was saving his ass, and I deserved to be on the wall, but now it felt out of place. Even though I put it last, right before the door to Riley’s bedroom, where the boys would never really see it, it still felt like I was intruding among the shots of Tyler and Jayden and Easton goofing off, and Riley’s tattoo, cropped in tight.

Lonely didn’t sit well on me. It makes me do things I shouldn’t.

Like answer Bill’s random “want to hang out” text with “you should come over.”

Yes, I am that stupid.

But I couldn’t just wander around that house, alone, bored. There was nowhere to go. Robin was at her parents’ house for church and a Sunday dinner thing. I had no car, and no desire to figure out the bus schedule to take me wherever. I had nowhere to go. Riley could be home any minute or not until tomorrow. I had no idea where he was or why he’d left without a word.

Bill was offering a distraction. I was taking it.

Not that I had any intention of messing around with him—I was mixed up about my feelings for Riley, and anyway, Bill had shut the door on that part of our relationship.

Relationship. What a loaded word. One I’d never liked, and now, after the hot mess of the night before, absolutely hated.

I figured Bill could come over, help me hang the blinds in the living room, then we could leave and go to the movies or something.

But Bill didn’t know anything about hanging blinds. “What do I look like, a handyman?” he asked, dressed in plaid shorts and a polo shirt. “I’m a chemical engineering major.”

“Which is why you should know how to do this,” I said, shoving the instructions in his hand. “It’s all math and spatial acuity.”

“Forget it.” He didn’t even look at them. “I’m sure I could figure it out, but the answer is no.” Wiping his forehead, he fanned himself. “Fuck it, it’s hot in here.”

“You’re mean,” I said. But it was a halfhearted pout. Really, why the hell would he want to hang blinds in Riley and Tyler’s house? Sometimes I forgot that just because I wanted something to happen in the next five minutes, that didn’t mean anyone else shared my enthusiasm or narrow focus.

I also realized that I didn’t actually want Riley to come home and see Bill in the house. Regardless of how innocent it was, now that Bill was standing here, I knew it would not sit well with Riley.

Bill just laughed. “Jessica, I admit, that usually works on me, but it’s too hot in here to do anything. It’s like a hundred and ten degrees in this house. How are you living here without suffering heat exhaustion?”

“My room has air-conditioning. Let me go change and grab my purse and then we can leave. Come on.” I indicated he should join me. I didn’t want him to melt on my behalf.

“Oh my God, that’s better,” he said as we entered the cool sanctuary of my room. He plucked at his shirt. “It’s like existing in a wet towel.”

“I think I’m getting used to it.” Truthfully, it didn’t bother me as much as I would have expected.

“So how is it, living here with Riley?” Bill asked, sitting on my bed.

I shrugged. “It’s fine.” Digging through my suitcase, I found a cuter top than the shirt I had slept in. “Close your eyes,” I told him.

He obeyed, but he said, “I’ve seen you naked.”

“I know. But it’s different now. We’re just friends, we’re not going there anymore.”

“I can handle seeing you in your bra.”

Why did that sound vaguely insulting? “You’re the one who wanted us to be just friends. I’m trying to respect that.” What the hell was with guys? No matter what I did, they wanted something different.

“But you don’t have to act like I can’t control myself.”

Oh, for the love of God. “Fine. Open your eyes. I don’t give a shit.” Idiot. I pulled my knit shorts down so that I could put on denim shorts instead and rooted around in my suitcase in my bra and panties. It was like wearing a bathing suit, and he was right, he had seen me naked. I didn’t feel like discussing it any further.

Why were women always being accused of being the ones who wanted to overcomplicate things? To talk them to death? Both Riley and Bill were driving me insane with their determination to define what we were doing.

And a glance over at the bed showed that Bill wasn’t exactly unaffected, despite his bragging claims. He was staring at my ass.

“So why are you hanging blinds, or attempting to talk me into hanging blinds, in Riley’s house?”

I shrugged. “Because he needs help cleaning up before the social worker pays a home visit.” I didn’t want to go too deep into the real situation. It was Riley’s business, and I didn’t know how much he would want known.

“How do you feel about Riley?”

I paused, my T-shirt over my head, ready to be pulled on. I eyed Bill, suddenly feeling suspicious. “What do you mean?”

Bill leaned back on his elbows on my bed, shrugging. “It just seems to me like maybe he is the kind of guy who can get you to open up a little.”

“I opened up plenty for you,” I told him coldly. What was he getting at? I didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking.

“That’s not what I mean. You never tell me anything about yourself. I don’t know you at all, Jessica, not really.”

“I’m not a deep, dark secret.”

“Can I ask you something without you assaulting me?”

“Well, that’s promising.” Nerves jangling, I pulled my shirt on and down over my chest. “Sure, why not? I’ve been insulted on a regular basis lately, why not keep the trend going?”

“I’m serious, and this is as a friend. Why do you push guys away?”

“I don’t push guys away. That’s the real problem, according to some people,” I said wryly.

He gave me a long look. “Okay, fine. You don’t want to talk about it with me. That’s cool.”

“Talk about what?” I asked, totally exasperated.

“You like Riley, don’t you? I’ve always thought you did.”

That caught me off guard, and I felt my cheeks heat. “No, I haven’t always liked Riley. After this week, I am more comfortable around him, but there’s nothing there, trust me. He thinks I’m a slut.” Just saying it out loud made me bitter all over again, and I could hear the wobble in my voice.

“Come here.” Bill patted the bed next to him.

I obeyed, my shorts in my hand.

“You’re not a slut,” he told me as I sat down.

“I know.” I leaned my head on his shoulder, wanting the comfort he was offering. “But why do I feel so bad?”

“Because having feelings for someone is a pretty miserable experience, that’s why.” He brought his arm around my back and hugged me to his side.

I laughed. “Apparently.”

“I think a lot of guys, myself included, are more comfortable taking our clothes off with a girl than showing her how we really feel. Sex is easier than emotion.”

Sex is easier than emotion. That was scary accurate.

I fumbled to drag my shorts on up over my ankles, my calves, my knees, my thighs, up, up, to cover myself. It suddenly felt wrong to be talking about this with Bill in my underwear.

Because he was right.

I could take my clothes off with any guy I was attracted to. Yet I showed no one who I really was.

How ironic that naked was more covered than conversation.

The knock on my door had me jumping. “Oh, shit,” I muttered, knowing being in my room with Bill wasn’t going to sit well with Riley. Fumbling to zip my shorts, my fingers trembling, I was still trying to process what Bill had said. What it meant to me.

“Jess?”

“Yeah?” I called out.

But Riley was already opening the door. “Hey, the photos look really good—”

His words cut off when he stuck his head in and assessed the situation.

My fingers were still on the snap of my shorts, having finally gotten the zipper up. I tried to tug at my shirt, like that’s what I had been doing all along, but Riley wasn’t buying it. He looked at Bill, the rumpled bed we were sitting on, my hand, and no doubt my guilty expression, and exploded.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yelled. “Come on! Jesus! This is how fast you move on?”

“We’re going to the movies, that’s all,” I told him. “Calm down.”

“Dude, she’s telling the truth. We are just friends.” Bill held his hands out in a conciliatory fashion.

Riley looked like he wanted to kick the door. In fact, his foot actually lifted, like he was contemplating it. Not wanting any more damage to the house, I jumped off the bed and rushed over to him. “Riley, stop!”

He paused and ran his fingers through his hair in clear frustration. “What the fuck is going on? For real? Last night you told me there’s no you and me, but is this what you really want? Me to leave you the fuck alone so you can do whatever?”

The anger, no, the pain in his voice left me speechless.

Bill filled the awkward silence I left dangling.

“I’m just going to take off. Jess, I’ll catch you later.”

Normally I would have protested, said he didn’t have to leave, that no one was going to chase off a friend of mine. I would have taken a stand, been defiant.

But I couldn’t. Because Bill was my friend, but so was Riley.

No matter what he said about friendship being shady between guys and girls, we were friends, because that’s what you called someone you cared about, right?

I cared about him.

“Thanks, Bill. Talk to you later.”

Bill moved through the door. Riley didn’t step out of his way, but instead glared at him. To Bill’s credit, he didn’t react at all, and he didn’t flinch or shift out of the way. He just waved at me over his shoulder and barreled through.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I said to Riley, afraid he would take it upon himself to punch Bill at some point. “You don’t have to look at him like that.”

Riley just shrugged. “I can look at Nerd Boy any way I want. It’s my house.”

Hopefully, Bill was far enough across the living room that he didn’t hear the rude slur. I wanted to tell Riley he was being a dick, but that would just take the conversation off topic. “Last night I was upset because I don’t understand what it is you want from me,” I told him. “First you want sex, then you want a relationship, then you say no, just dating, and no sex. I don’t get it. But I like you, Riley. I really like you. So no, I don’t exactly want you to leave me alone, but I can’t have all these labels and expectations and rules put on whatever we’re doing.”

“Can you please button your shorts?” Riley refused to look at me.

That was the response I got? Anger shot through me. I shoved his chest. “You’re an asshole!”

“What?” He sounded put out. “It’s distracting!”

“I’m trying to share my fucking feelings, something I don’t do with just anyone, you know, and you aren’t even listening! You’re obsessing over the fact that I might have done something with Bill despite the fact that we both said nothing happened.”

He shot me a guilty look. “Well, I can’t help it! The idea is killing me.”

“I told you nothing happened! I just told you that I like you! Do you know how many times I’ve told that straight out to a guy I wasn’t together with?” Furious, I held up my index finger. “Once! In my whole life! And it was to you, just now, so thanks for fucking it up.”

Spinning around, I was prepared to walk away. To go where, I had no idea, but somewhere where I didn’t have to look at his face, because I wanted to punch him in the jaw. Or at the very least shove him again, and I didn’t want to lose control like that.

But he grabbed my arm and stopped me from retreating. “You like me?”

It was really amazing how thick-skulled guys could be. “Duh. I thought we established that last night.”

“But you got mad at me.”

“Because you were being confusing as hell. And I was exhausted. And then this morning you were gone and there wasn’t a note or a text or anything and I had no idea where you were. I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I went to work out and then to the grocery store. I got you Diet Coke and Greek yogurt. Plus a refill for the air freshener.”

He had? My anger started to thaw.

“I didn’t think that you would wonder where I was. I didn’t think that you would, well, care.”

Giving an indignant sniff, I said, “Then you’re stupid.”

He smiled. “Obviously. So Nerd Boy was really just here to go to the movies?”

“Yes. I was bored and lonely.” So there. “I didn’t want to take the bus and he has a car and offered to pick me up. That’s it, though I’m not sure why you’re so jealous when you’re not offering me anything anyway.” It wasn’t pretty, but I wanted information. If I was fishing with a pole and line off a boat before, now I was wading in the river, hillbilly hand fishing. I might as well have said, “Click Like if you would date me.”

Pathetic. But I needed an answer, a solid yes or no so I could move on either way. Limbo land doesn’t work for me.

Riley made a sound of exasperation. “Jessica, you drive me crazy. I said I want to date you. What is so unclear about that?”

Part of me wanted to ask for clarification, but then I would be doing exactly the thing that had been making me crazy about him. So I just shrugged, pulling my arm from his touch and crossing them. “Nothing, I guess,” was my stellar and petulant answer.

But I couldn’t help it. Being emotionally vulnerable sucked. It was why I never did it.

Riley reached out and pried my arms off my chest.

“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling even more out of control with my chest uncovered, my arms forced down to my sides. I actually turned my head, unable to be that exposed.

But he took my hands and placed them on his waist. Then he gently tilted my head back toward him, his hand cupping my chin as I fought the urge to close my eyes.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“What?” I was fighting the urge to bolt.

But then he said, “I like you, too. In fact, I like you a whole helluva lot. So let’s just do this thing, see what happens. You good with that?”

There was an honest-to-God lump in my throat. It was like I’d swallowed a marshmallow. So I just nodded.