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“This is nuts,” he muttered. “This was supposed to be an easy lay, and instead I’m getting dumped in the middle of a rainstorm.”
Easy lay, my ass.
“Careful with your shoes!” she called as he slid into the wet night.
She saw his middle finger raised seconds before the door slammed.
Riley sucked in a breath. Mr. Good Enough just became Mr. Good for Nothing.
The cab resumed its slow crawl home, and Riley stared unseeingly out the blurry window, feeling nothing and everything all at once.
Anger. Regret. Confusion.
She’d done it again. She’d royally screwed up a chance to actually experience what it was she wrote about.
But he hadn’t been the right one.
Because with the right one, she wouldn’t be scared. With the right one, she knew she wouldn’t need to hide the truth.
And the truth was a whopper.
There was a running joke at the Stiletto office that Riley’s sexual partners outnumbered the New York City pigeon population.
But the truth was far worse.
The truth was, she could count her sexual encounters on one hand.
On one thumb, actually.
Because Riley McKenna, sex expert extraordinaire, was exactly one tepid, beer-fueled college encounter away from being a virgin.
But that wasn’t even the real problem, she thought as she pulled out her cellphone and turned it on. The problem was that the reason for her near-virgin status came down to one very sexy, very off-limits Sam Compton.
The only man she’d ever wanted. And the one man in New York City who didn’t want into her pants.
She glanced down at her phone. Nothing from Sam, but there was one more from her mother. You did that THING, didn’t you?
Riley rammed her head against the headrest. You know, Mom? I think I did.
Chapter Two
For most New Yorkers, the chance to escape upstate was a welcome breath of fresh air. A chance to get away from the fast pace and frenetic energy of the city.
For Sam Compton, going upstate meant old cigarette smoke, stale crackers, and nonstop guilt trips.
He’d rather be anywhere else. Hell, driving Riley and her friends to the freaking outlet mall had been better than this, and that included a high-pitched debate on the advantages of waxing over shaving.
The view in the rearview mirror had been worth it though. Riley had been wearing this purple dress that kept climbing up her thighs …
Knock it off. She was on a date last night. With a guy she actually liked.
Who also happened to be a guy Sam would like to punch, but that was pretty much par for the course when it came to his feelings on Riley’s men. He’d learned over the years to deal with it.
His mother let out a rough smoker’s cough, drawing Sam’s attention back to the family obligation at hand.
He made the trip every couple of months or so, and depending on his mother’s mood—and sobriety level—that was either too much or not nearly enough to make her happy.
His mother always seemed to want the opposite of whatever it was Sam was currently doing.
