Page 43 of Hating On Riot

“Hey, let go.” She grabs my arms but doesn’t try to pry them off. Instead, she keeps them on her, her small hands on my biceps, and peers up at me through long, dark lashes, her brown eyes gleaming. “Just because we’ve kissed doesn’t mean you can grope me anytime, anywhere you want.”

My heart rate jumping, my voice thick with emotion, I ask a question I’ve never asked a girl before. “Are you happy?” I cup her waist and shift on the curb until we face each other. I search her face. Her chest rises and falls with a long, heavy sigh. Every muscle in my body tenses, and I brace for the worst.

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been over the past four years, but I’m scared by how fast we’re moving.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It’s only been six days since I moved into the rugby house. Six, Riot.”

Her eyes are wide with disbelief. I feel the same. I take her hands in mine. “I’m scared too.”

“Should we take it slower?”

I nod. “We have all the time in the world to explore this.” I point from her to me. “Don’t you think?”

“I do.”

Her words startle us both.

I let go of her hands as if they’re hot coals. She gathers them back into hers and brings them to the spot above her heart. “Thank you.”

I scrunch my forehead. “For what?”

“For making me laugh. For making me feel alive again. For helping me realize that life is meant to be lived.” She leans forward and does something that will be branded into my memory for a long time. She presses her soft lips to my forehead, then pulls back with a bright smile that rivals the sun’s. “What now?”

I jerk my chin toward my truck parked at the curb. “It gets dark in half an hour. Shower, and I’ll meet you downstairs. After we watch the sunset, we’ll come back here and play our game.” Never Have I Ever.

She lets go of my hands, folds her arms over her knees, and stares at my truck, her chin resting on her knees.

The silence that stretches on is comfortable. There’s noise from the kids and their parents, and from the guys in the rugby house, their voices and commotion drifting out of the open windows. It’s a darn shame we didn’t invest in a few A/C window units.

What stands out isn’t the noise but Arie reaching for my hand and lacing our fingers together.

The small gesture warms my chest. My heart skips an extra beat. I glance sideways at her. She’s looking off into the distance. In a soft, small voice, she asks, “Will it always be like this, with you making decisions for us?”

Her question surprises me, but it shouldn’t, given how long I’ve known her.

Arie’s moods and what she likes and dislikes can shift depending on how her day is going. That was the difference between her and her twin, Laney.

Laney stayed the same day in and day out, but not Arie. That’s what made being with her exciting. You never got the same girl twice. She kept me on my toes, and I liked it.

“You can say ‘no’ anytime. Make your own plans. I’m in as long as you’re happy.”

She keeps staring at my truck. The street the house sits on is quiet, with large trees looming over it. Students walk past on their way to campus, or they ride their bikes. An occasional car passes by.

The street in front of the house isn’t a main road. It’s more of a side street that students use to pick up friends from other rentals on both sides.

“I have something to tell you.” Her voice trembling, she lets go of my hand and wrings her own. Her gaze is fixed on her sneakers.

“Is everything okay?”

Her shoulders rise and fall with her heavy sigh. Needing to see her face, I grab her chin and tilt her face toward mine. “Is everything okay?” I ask again, my tone sharp. “If anyone fucks with you, they’ll have me to deal with.”

“Someone . . .” She clears her throat. “Someone left a dead rat on the hood of my car, with a note written in blood telling me to stop seeing you.”

Anger bursts through me, hot enough to boil my blood, before I have the sense to rein it in. I don’t want to scare Arie. I have to stay calm. Two of us panicking and getting pissed off is one too many in my book. Damn it, who is ballsy enough to threaten Arie? Names of girls aren’t coming up. I haven’t been with a coed in ages.

During the summer, I worked hard on my brothers’ construction sites until I could barely lift a finger after the shifts ended, let alone get it up. Then school started. I caught sight of Arie hurrying across the parking lot toward the library, her long hair swishing across her lower back, her hips swaying, her tits bouncing. I knew this year was my last chance to shoot my shot with her.

Except for her relationship with Coop.

Then hallelujah, she and Coop aren’t dating, and from the vibe I got, they never had. Not to mention, Coop is dead set on winning over the girl he fumbled in high school.