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I shot him the bird, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I misjudged you, and that’s on me. I’m glad you two figured your shit out. It’s nice to see my boy happy. You and I have no beef, Demi.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. And you can call me Beans now.” She smirked.
“River, are you coming?” a woman called out from somewhere in the house.
“That’s what she said!” he shouted back. “Now, take him home and make him shower. You stink, Golden Boy.”
He held his fist up for me to pound it, and he did the same thing to Demi. But she surprised us both when she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him. She sniffed a few times, and he looked at me with wide eyes. River wasn’t used to dealing with emotions, so this was foreign.
But more surprising than her hugging him was what he did next.
He wrapped his arms around her and looked up at me. “I think she’s a keeper.”
I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, you and everyone else.”
She pulled back and swiped at her tears. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
I took her hand in mine and led her toward my bike parked in the driveway.
“Hey, Beans,” he called out, and we both turned around.
“Yeah?”
“I assume I get a discount on the fancy drinks now that you’re one of us.”
“Finally. Someone who doesn’t have a chip on their shoulder about a discount. You can count on it.”
“You’re a goddamn lawyer. Pay the girl for her coffee, asshole.”
“See you tomorrow,” River said with a laugh before shutting the door.
“Feel better?” I asked her as I pulled the helmet over her head.
“Yeah. Now, let’s get you home and get you showered so you can have your way with me.”
I gripped her by the hips as she squealed, and I set her on the back of my bike, then burned out of the driveway because I couldn’t get her home fast enough.
And the sound of her laughter filled the air around me.
eighteen
. . .
Demi
We’d stoppedby Romeo’s place to grab some clothes, and he agreed to sleep at my house tonight. I had a bathtub, and I’d convinced him that it would help his sore muscles.
He informed me that he hadn’t taken a bath since he was three years old.
“How is that possible?” I asked, filling the clawfoot tub and setting out two towels for us.
“I’m a boxer. And a dude. I’m not into bubble baths.” He tugged his hoodie over his head.
“Just wait. You’re going to be all about the bathtub after this.”
“You want to bet on that? I don’t see it happening. And I’m not getting in there unless you get in with me. But I’m not sure how two people can fit in that thing.”
“Wow. A shower and a bath all on the same day. Look at you, knocking things off my bucket list.”
