Part 120 (1/2)

”Jesus, are we a bunch of teenagers?” I snap. ”No.”

”Should talk to her. So what if she has a kid? Not like she's trying to trap you into the daddy role, she obviously prefers n.o.body involved,” replies Tegan. ”Besides, he's a nice kid.”

”You've met him?”

”Yep.” She smiles. ”You should too.”

”I did. Briefly.” I look the other way. Maybe Tegan's right. Riley and me could keep some kind of arrangement going. I shake my head. Sure, Nate. Guys shouldn't walk into a kid's life if they don't intend to stick around.

”What you talking about?” asks Will, as he slings an arm across the bench seat and leans in.

”Nate and Riley,” replies Tegan. ”We reckon he should talk to her.”

I grit my teeth. ”Keep out of this,” I warn my brother.

”Yeah, already told you my opinion. Everybody has baggage, big brother. At least you know what hers is now.” He flicks his fingers. ”Did you tell her yours?”

The claustrophobia of their focus is too much and I stand. ”I'm hungry.” I catch Will's eye as I walk away and don't miss the challenge in them. I told Riley secrets I've never told him, and that says a h.e.l.l of a lot.

I lean against the metal edge of the balcony and peer into the crowds below. There're people down there who I'd watch on TV years ago, when they were more well-known than me. Now look. Will I ever get used to being famous? Two crazy years and I'm one step above them, up here on my celebrity laurels.

I sip my whisky as I scout the room and spot who I want. Riley. Does she realise how f.u.c.king hot she looks in that dress clinging to her curves? My vantage point gives me an awesome view of her a.s.s, her slender back, and the long neck I'd kiss the length of on my way to every delicious inch of her. The few times I've seen Riley tonight, she's flitted from person to person, attempting to keep her cool. The earring touching and neck rubbing I recognised as stress. I know this girl better than she thinks.

This is the first time I've spotted Riley standing still, not weaving through people. I've overheard others voicing how impressed they are with the organisation of the event, mentioning Riley by name, and pride warms my chest as I watch her.

Why am I such a f.u.c.king idiot when it comes to this woman?

I pull myself away from the metal bar and head to the stairs. Riley steps to one side and reveals the person she's with.

The smarmy Yank. Hand on her arm, eyes on hers, and she isn't stopping him. Again. See, that's the other crazy thing. I think I'm G.o.d's f.u.c.king gift and delude myself Riley wouldn't dare look at another guy because she dreams of and can't imagine life without me. Worse, I refused to consider another guy could be interested in her.

This isn't the uptight girl who p.i.s.sed me off; I know her as the girl I laughed with and spent hours naked with. And began to fall in love with. Why am I surprised somebody else wants her? She's a b.l.o.o.d.y amazing woman.

I convinced myself the jealousy biting the last time Mitch.e.l.l had his hands on Riley was s.e.xual. Wrong. I'm here and flooded with the need for her attention instead. Need for every last part of the Riley who fills the unhappy emptiness I refused to admit existed.

But, I have no right over her body or heart anymore, and I fooled myself I ever did.

I hang around the edge of the crowd, making polite conversation where unavoidable, all the while a.n.a.lysing every interaction between Riley and Mitch.e.l.l. Others approach them too and, being the professionals they are, they elicit smiles and laughs from everybody.

Does Riley touch Mitch.e.l.l? Hold his gaze? His borderline caressing grows more frequent as does my impetus to walk over there.

I back into the corner, where people pa.s.s and don't linger, and bide my time.

Riley walks through the crowd to the back of the room and the double-doors leading out of the venue to a different part of the hotel. I squeeze around bodies and follow. In the brightly lit, tiled hallway, Riley rests against the wall, one high-heeled shoe in her hand as she rubs the sole of her foot with the other. Her eyes are closed and strands of her carefully styled hair escape and touch her parted lips. Those shoes must really hurt if that's the pleasure she gets from taking one off.

Dropping the shoe to the floor, Riley opens her eyes and they widen when she sees me. ”Nate.”

”Hey.”

Hands in my suit jacket pockets, I rest against the wall and Riley runs a gaze over me. I raise a brow and she tips her head. ”This is black tie, Nate, not black s.h.i.+rt and no tie.”

”Close as I get. Like anybody could stop me walking in.”

”I could've. If I wanted, I could get you ejected for not meeting the dress code.” With a small smile, she indicates my Converse. ”Your brother managed to put a full suit on; you're halfway there with the jacket.”

”He has a nagging girl. I do what the h.e.l.l I like.”

”As always.” Riley slips her foot into the shoe. ”Why did you come tonight? You avoid celebrity events like this.”

She steps back as I pull myself away from the wall and edge towards her. ”Because I knew you'd be here. Saving face, y'know. I didn't have to call and ask you to meet me.”

Nothing's changed although everything has. Hurt hides in Riley's eyes and guilt hits me. My own pain kept me away, and her secret forces me to face my own or lose her. I was one stupid decision away from taking this smart, s.e.xy girl who held her heart behind adamantine walls.

”What did you want, Nate?”

”To talk to you.”

”I'm busy.” Riley's shaking hands betray her. The work excuse as always.

”Please.” Her surprise at my politeness amuses me, and I smile at her.

A couple pa.s.s, the girl's heels clicking along the grey tiles, as they head to the elevator. Riley angles her body away from them. ”Why didn't you call me after what happened the other day?” she asks, voice almost a whisper.

”Because I'm an a.s.shole.”

”And now?”

”I saw you tonight and realised I couldn't leave things how they are.”

”You told me to leave when I saw you last. You ended this.”

”I'm an a.s.shole,” I repeat.

”That doesn't get to be your answer to everything, Nate. I need more than that.”

”So do I, Riley.”

Her mouth parts in readiness to reply, but Riley's phone rings. She turns her body away from me as she answers.

”Hey, Mum. Everything okay? How was Josh tonight?”

Hard eyes meet mine and I hold them. Nice try, Riley, but I'm not going anywhere. I rest back against the wall and stretch my legs out.

”Really well, thank you.” The stressed lines of the last few minutes are replaced with a huge smile, eyes s.h.i.+ning with pride. ”I'm tired though, long day.”