And failed horribly.
As McLanely, Renthrow and Kinsey pointed out, Riley is an adult and she’s amazing and I like talking to her and making her laugh.
Does it have to be more complex than that?
Maybe I don’t have to overthink this. Maybe I can just… follow the direction that my heart is tugging me in.
“Boss, it’s still revving too high. I think we might have changed the wrong part,” a voice that probably belongs to Jimmy rings out.
“I gotta go,” Riley says.
I’m not imagining it. She sounds as petulant as she used to when Chris and I would try to leave her behind on the way to the park when we were kids.
“Okay. Text me when you get home so I know you got in safely.”
“I’m not a kid, Nat. And this is Lucky Falls. It’s so safe, I could walk home at night and be fine.”
“If you walk home at night without telling me, Riley Carter, I will set up a couch in your workshop and watch you like a hawk so I can walk you home myself.”
She snorts. “Fine. I’ll text.”
“Good girl.”
I can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Goodnight, Nat.”
“Night, Riles.”
The dial tone in my ear is a high-pitched alarm bell, declaring that I have skipped right into dangerous territory.
Warning! Fork in the road. Either you keep being a brother to Riley or you admit you like her. Choose a side.
I shake my head.
There’s still the pesky fear that Riley doesn’t see me the same way. I’ve established myself as her stand-in brother. What if I try to cross the line and I ruin everything? And what if she tells Chris and then it ruins everything with him too?
I need to tread lightly. If I rush in on impulse, I could destroy something that’s becoming very precious to me.
I’m on the way to my car when the door to the stadium bursts open and footsteps pound the pavement.
“Campbell!”
I turn to find McLanely sprinting across the lot and waving his arm back and forth.
My eyebrows climb. Did I forget something in the locker room? Or did they find the stack of pain relief patches I keep stashed around the stadium for emergencies?
“Hold up.” McLanely stops in front of me, barely winded from the run. “Do you know some chick named Layla?”
I suck in a breath, feeling all sorts of uneasy. “Did Layla contact you?”
“She was staking out April’s garage. She said she was a friend of yours.”
“She’s anexand we’re not on friendly terms. I hope you didn’t give in to her demands because she threw my name around.”
“Of course not. April ran her off and told her we weren’t interested in doing any interviews. But that’s not the problem.” Chance’s nostrils flare. “I just got a call from the nursing home saying that April’s dad had a visitor today. Some woman named Layla.”
I firm my jaw, feeling a pulse of annoyance. I know intimately well how ruthless Layla can be when she wants something. Going after family members to get to the people she wants would be a rung too low for most people.
But not her.
