Page 27 of Hating On Riot

I gasp. “Riot.” He licks away the sting and blows on the wetness he left behind.

A shiver runs through me, followed by scorching hot need. I reach out and interlock my hands behind his neck. My fingers play with the hair curling at his nape. I need to touch him. To know he is here with me in the flesh, not a figment of my imagination or a shadow in my dreams. He turns his head and looks at me with wonderment, like he’s seeing me in a new light.

“Arie?” He stares into my eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth before flicking back to my eyes.

“Hmm?” I say dreamily. How can a guy who hates me look at me like I’m someone special to him? My chest aches, and I want to bawl my eyes out. But why am I sad? Shouldn’t I be happy?

“How much of a do-over do you want?” A knuckle grazes my lower lip. My mouth parts. “From the beginning-beginning, or from when you snuck into the closet at Galley’s party and kissed me until my toes curled?”

I blink. “They curled? Really?” I blink again. He’s so close that we share a breath. His green eyes are so gorgeous up close. I forgot that when he’s happy or turned on, the flecks of gold come out to play in the sea of green.

“True that, beautiful.”

“You knew it was me.” I meant it to sound accusatory. Instead, my voice holds awe.

“I’ll always know what your lips feel like, baby.”

I groan. “You have to stop calling me babe and baby.”

“Because it turns you on?” He leans into my space. “Because you know it to be true?”

Yes to both, but my mind and my mouth aren’t in sync to tell him that. I’m mesmerized by how he looks at me. With how close he is. With how gorgeous his eyes are. With how much heat there is in his gaze.

“You’re mine, Arie,” he says in agony. “Have always been mine, babe. Four years without you is too long.”

I open my mouth to tell him what, I’m not sure. His confession muddles my brain. My body rebels as I reach for him. I should hate him. Hating Riot is easier than the alternative. Falling for him would be hard on us. Our brothers’ hatred for one another runs deep. They’ll never approve of our relationship.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck, and all reasonable thoughts disappear. “Hmm, you smell so good. Your skin is so soft.”

His mouth is soft. Hungry. Tender. The little pecks on my shoulder, then across and back to the crook, endear him to me. He’s gentle. Almost reverent. My fingers play with the strands. First, feeling the soft strands. Then yanking them. His groan against my chest shoots straight to my core. My breathing speeds up. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.

“You can have the left side,” I say, out of breath. “I’ll take the spot closest to the door.”

We don’t speak. We crawl under the covers. He pulls me against his body, and my head is tucked under his chin while his arm slides across my waist.

We shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t cross the boundary of what, I’m not sure. What we have isn’t friendship. We’re beyond that with what happened in our past. But we’re not together-together. Except our agreement with Cooper says otherwise, giving us permission to explore what could’ve been had Riot not stolen a kiss from me, and my brothers witnessed it.

Cooper is my cover. In public, he and I are a couple. In private, I can be with Riot. I can live out my dream of what it would’ve been like to have Riot with me all those years ago. We would’ve attended DU as a couple. Stayed together for the four years and beyond. We would have had tons and tons of sex.

But the could’ve-would’ve is a fantasy. The reality is we’re not meant to be together. My brothers taught him that when they beat him within an inch of his life, and his brothers taught me the same lesson when they found me on campus my freshman year and threatened to hurt my brothers if I ever started something with Riot again.

We’ve been doomed from the start. Star-crossed lovers rather than soulmates. It doesn’t mean I won’t make the most of the time I have with him. But can I let him go and move on with my life without my childhood crush, my high school bully, and the man I see myself with for the rest of my life?

11

Arie

After I am convinced that Riot is in a deep sleep, I sneak out of his bedroom and into the spare room. I know the guys suspect something is going on between us, but I would rather not get caught coming out of his bedroom.

Beneath the covers, I check the notifications on my phone. A few are from the blind dating app from TRG. I change it to Sean. I’ve never known a Sean, so I might as well start.

Sean: You still alive?

Sean: We can wait to talk tomorrow.

Sean: I don’t mind the silence.

Sean: What’s that saying about silence?