"You said you were going to spend time with me," she pouts.
My gaze drifts to her lips before I even realize it. When I catch myself, I snap my eyes away, only to meet her knowing stare.
Oh, fuck.
Dammit. What the fuck is going on?
I scrub my palms against my jeans and spring to my feet. My phone thuds onto the couch, forgotten.
"I'm gonna get some water," I croak, rushing to the kitchen.
Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I fill it from the faucet and quickly gulp it down. I set it aside when it's empty, then grip the edge of the sink as I drop my chin to my chest and close my eyes.
My mind races through the last few minutes, desperate to pinpoint why I feel so damn unsettled.
Nothing happened.
It's not like I did anything inappropriate, and Rianna didn't make any inappropriate moves on me.
I doubt Charlie would like how touchy Rianna’s been lately, but it’s harmless. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Tension between them is already sky-high, and I still don’t get it. I thought Charlie’s problem was the idea that Rianna liked me, but Rianna swore she didn’t. That should have been enough.
So, why isn't she?
Scenes flicker through my mind, a sharp ache blooming in my throat. I try to slow them down, to catch just one, but they blur past until my heart pounds against my ribs.
Sweat beads down my temples. I let go of the sink and tug at my collar, desperate for air to cool my burning skin.
I flip the faucet back on and fill the glass again, this time emptying it without a breath. Sticking it back under the running water, I refill the glass and shut it off.
I’m so tangled in panic that when Rianna’s hand lands on my back, I jolt, twisting just as water spills from the glass, drenching both our shirts.
She squeals, and I spit out a curse. "Fuck. Sorry. I was lost in thought." I set my glass in the sink. "I'm going to go home and change before David's party."
"Don't be silly, Keaton. It's just water. Come on. Let's go toss them in the dryer."
I rub my neck and step back, a chill crawling over my skin. “Maybe I should just run home real quick,” I say, my laugh shaky. “It wouldn’t feel right, Ri. Charlie deserves better.”
I keep my tone soft, but all I want is to get out of here and wait for my girl to come home.
Rianna rolls her eyes with a huff. "Are you serious, Keaton? Does she have your balls wrapped that tight in her hand? We're just friends, and I'm just putting your damn shirt in the dryer. If you're really that pathetic, it's no wonder she won't stay with you past college."
Her words hit me like a slap, and I snap upright.
"I bet Alek hasn't lost his balls. That's probably what makes him so appealing to Charlie," Rianna mutters as she walks away.
Dammit. She’s right. I sound pathetic. We’re not doing anything wrong. It’s just a shirt in the dryer.
My lips tighten as I grab the back of my shirt and pull it over my head. Then I march toward the hall where her laundry room and bathroom are.
I start to tell her I’m tossing my shirt in the dryer, but the words choke me. My hand fists the fabric, feet glued to the floor.
Through the crack of the bathroom door, I catch sight of Rianna's tan bare back as her arms come behind her to unclip her bra.
Look away, Keaton.
I try. Holy fuck, I try, but my eyes drift to the mirror just as she drops her bra and her tits bounce freely.
My nerve endings stir, and I swallow hard.
