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What if there were actual feelings between Riff and me?
What if we decided to just keep hanging out and having fun?
What if things moved forward (in whatever way that looked like)?
We were grown adults.
It wasn’t like this was new to us.
Riff wasn’t some crazy guy who was going to propose to me, right?
And I wasn’t some clingy woman…
If things didn’t work, then they didn’t work.
I sipped the coffee and the tip of my tongue sizzled.
My eyes watered.
The coffee was way too hot.
I rolled my eyes, realizing I’d have to sit outside for two days to let it cool off.
Then I thought about it.
Two more days in this hotel room with Riff?
That would be a dream.
Even though it was impossible to do.
He had to get back home.
He had a hockey career to worry about.
As for me?
I had my old job waiting for me.
If I wanted it.
A good job.
A really good job.
Great pay. Great benefits.
And with them needing me back, I’d be damn near invincible.
That meant leaving.
Leaving Riff.
Leaving Demi.
Leaving painting.
All of it behind.
