And lord, that appeal.
Riley was young, and a little odd, but he was also absurdly beautiful, and intriguing in the way only a man of few words could be. Seth had seen how some of the town’s young womenlooked at him. And a few of the men, for that matter. If they’d entered a time vortex and Seth could have met Riley when they were both the same age, he was surehewould have been the one following Riley around like a lost puppy and not the other way around. He had the vibe of someone who was destined to be a first crush.
Seth shook the unwelcome thoughts out of his head, tilting the box toward Riley. “What color do you want?”
“Black.”
Seth tsked teasingly. “Of course. You and Violet, my goodness.” But he fished out the black polish, shaking the bottle heartily as he took Riley’s left hand in his.
Riley had big hands to match his height. For such a creature of the forest, Seth might have expected them to be rough and calloused, but they were surprisingly soft. Warm too.
Seth cleared his throat and got to painting with small, deft strokes.
“Me and Violet?” Riley asked, once Seth had gotten to his middle finger.
“My local goths,” Seth explained with a fond smile, thinking of his brusque, aspiring writer. He wondered if she had a favorite pastry. He should ask.
“I’m not goth.”
Seth glanced up to find Riley frowning at him. He shrugged. “Maybe not, at least aesthetically. But you do like your gothic lit.”
Riley’s frown only deepened. “I’m different from Violet though.”
“How?”
“Older.”
“Not by much.”
They were left in silence again, and even though Seth was focusing on his work, he could feel the weight of Riley’s gaze.
“You like me better,” Riley said eventually, his voice low andsoft. He shifted closer on the couch, his knees brushing against Seth’s.
Seth gave him a stern look, holding Riley’s hand steady in a pointed way. “Presumptuous.”
Riley wasn’t the least bit chagrined. He lowered his head, dark eyes boring into Seth’s. “You do though.”
“I can’t choose a favorite regular,” Seth said lightly, not sure why his voice came out a little huskier than usual. “It’s like choosing a favorite child.”
“I’m not your regular. I’m your—” Riley broke off, his lips tightening as he seemed to be warring with himself. Seth could have sworn his eyes flashed black for a moment, but then they were normal again, and it must have been a trick of the light.
“Friend,” Riley said eventually, although it didn’t seem like he was quite satisfied with the choice of word. “I’m your friend.”
“Why do you want to be my friend?” Seth asked, unable to stop himself from taking advantage of this chatty version of Riley.
“I like you,” Riley told him immediately, as if he didn’t have a coy bone in his body.
Seth grinned, charmed in spite of himself. “Is it that simple?”
Riley gave a single solemn nod. “It is to me.”
“Why did you knock me over, then, that first night?”
Riley didn’t answer. Seth waited him out patiently, but Riley stayed silent, his gaze locked on Seth’s. Guileless yet again.
Seth narrowed his eyes. “You’re slyer than you look, aren’t you?”
In answer, Riley wiggled the little finger of the hand still in Seth’s hold. “You have to do my pinkie.”
