A waiter appeared at our table, and Riley ordered half of the appetizers on the menu before swinging a glance in my direction. "Does that work for you?" he asked, but he didn't wait for my response. "Let's get another order of potatoskins."
I handed my menu to the waiter. "Okay," I said, laughing. "Not interested insharing?"
Riley leveled a hot glare in my direction, as if I was still half-clothed. Or maybe he was remembering me half-clothed and that wasn't a problem in the least. Quite theopposite.
"I do believe it's you who doesn't share," he said. "Now, back to my original question. Would it be fair to say you're a big fan of NevadaandReno?"
I brought my fingers to my chest, right over my heart, tapping as I pulled together the right words. "I am. I really am. It's special to me in the way that certain memories can make everything better," I said. "My Reno is a Keep Tahoe Blue sticker on every car. It's ditching class to drive up Mount Rose. It's juniper bushes and ice skating on the Truckee River. It's Deux Gros Nez Café and Pneumatic Diner. It's getting lost in Zephyr Books and watching divorcées throw their rings off the Virginia Street Bridge. It's lying in the grass at Idlewild Park, surrounded by roses and bearded irises and lilacs every spring. It's the high school known as the Big Bathroom on Booth Street, and painting the boulder near the football field. It's jokes about Pyramid Lake and Sparks, and the boys of Sigma Nu making a rock formation with their letters on UNR's hillside. Before they lost their charter, of course." I paused to take a drink. I needed it to swallow down the surge of emotions. "It's not like anywhere else in theworld."
"It sounds like Nevada is delightful. Why isn'tithome?"
I didn't want to talk about this. It wasn't something I could explain to others without coming off as petulant and bitchy, and I was too off-kilter from everything that had happened over ping-pong to speak with muchsense.
"It's still home in the sense that it's where my parents and brother live, and I'll always go back and enjoy my time there. But it's changed," I said simply. "The pieces that made it strange and special, many of them are completely gone now. Others have drifted away." I traced the edge of the table, letting my fingers glide back and forth over the well-worn wood. "I can't go home without wanting it to be something it isn't, and I don't want to walk around with that much longing. I want to love something, someplace, for what it is. And I don't ever want to force myself to love anything, or force anyone toloveme."
"I don't think you could. Force anyone to love you, that is," he said, scratching his chin. "The way you feel about your hometown, that's how I feel about Rhode Island. It hasn't changed, but it's not the same place it was when I was incollege."
"Yeah, exactly." I patted my chest again, feeling the absence not of the places but the moments and memories. "And I've changed, too. I'm not the same person I wasbackthen."
Riley scratched his neck, frowning. "Clearly you need to explain that," he said. "No one appreciates acliffhanger."
I was getting antsy. I wasn't accustomed to having this volume of attention trained on me, and I didn't enjoy the feeling of careful inspection. Much more of this, and I'd admit that my parents preferred Adam, always had, and that I was the one who didn't belong in Reno. And that was far more truth than I was willing to part withtonight.
"Why can't you keep your pants zipped?" I snapped, gesturing in the general direction of his crotch. I'd never met a man with such prevalent zipper issues. "Answermethat."
He examined his fly and dutifully tugged the zipper into place before responding. "I don't think you're going to like the answer,"hesaid.
I rolled my eyes. "You're feasting on all of my personal information tonight," I said. "It onlyseemsfair."
He braced his arms on the table, his fingertips on his forehead. "Sometimes I forget," he conceded. "But other times, my cock doesn't fit in mypants."
I'd picked up enough shifts in the Emergency Department that nothing shocked me anymore. Spoon in the rectum? No problem. Accidentally drank a cup of hydrogen peroxide? Handled. Glued your eyelids shut in the name of fake lashes? Got it. But the too-big-for-trousers penis yielded a different variety of shock. "What—what do you mean?" Iasked.
Pointing at his crotch helplessly, he said, "It doesn't fit comfortably in most pants. The zippers don't stay up." At my incredulous expression, he continued. "Come over here and see foryourself."
Circling my hand around my side of the table, I said, "I am staying right here. I will not be seeing anything for myself, thank youverymuch."
We stared at each other, him with his giant penis and me with my thinning shreds of restraint. I'd said I was staying over here but if he asked even one more time, I was vaulting over this table and breaking every land-speed record known towoman.
Even though this was anarrangement.
Even though I didn't know where itwouldgo.
Even though he couldn't belong to me until he stopped belongingtoher.
All I wanted was to curl up beside Riley and chase away the demons of whoever left him in this heartsick state. If the situation warranted, I was also willing to evaluate the anatomy. Formedical purposes, ofcourse.
Riley held his palm out and tilted his head to the side. "Alex," he said, all rough and insistent, and the only way I ever wanted to hear my nameagain.
"Be careful," the waiter interrupted as he set plates of every shape and size between us. "This one isveryhot."
Oh, you havenoidea.
ChapterThirteen
Riley
It had beenthe type of week where Friday couldn't come soon enough. Surviving Monday had required heroic efforts, and it'd been all downhill fromthere.
