They’re still flirting, sure. They still revel in destroying each other verbally, sure. And it’s even more fun now than it used to be, sure.
Ah. Fun.
But whether or not Riley still has feelings for her, she doesn't know. It’s not something she dares to ask either. She also doesn’t know if it’s relevant, or ethical even, at this point?
What she does know: Riley’s own advice works in relation toheras well. Charlotte can check Riley out and explore what her presence does to her all she wants. As long as it’s still in her head, nobody has to know. Not even Riley.
When Charlotte, Gabi, and Lou are reminiscing about their college years over a few Manhattans and Riley eventually joins their outside table in a bright red, flowy sundress, Charlotte doesn’t have to share the sparks in her stomach with anyone. She’s never seen Riley like this before.
“Excuse me, is that a dress?” Lou coincidentally voices Charlotte’s thoughts.
“You’re excused,” Riley simply says, going around the table to give all three women a peck on the cheek before taking the fourth seat.
With a jolt, Charlotte realizes that three-months-ago-Charlotte would definitely have very strong opinions about that.
“Well, between this behavior and the outfit, Europe sure has rubbed off on you,” she huffs, dramatically wiping her cheek with her hand.
Riley glares at her. “Did you want an upgrade to a lick? Because I will.”
Charlotte decidedly grips the armrests of her chair, stands up and scoots a foot in the opposite direction from Riley, with the chair stuck to the back of her thighs.
Gabi lifts her glass. “To Lou, me, and our eternal children!”
The other women laugh as they clink their glasses together.
The first time it happens, Charlotte brushes it off as an accident: she and Riley are bent over the menu together, and as Riley flips the page, her hand briefly grazes Charlotte’s arm. She jerks it away to hide the goosebumps that appear.
The second time it happens, she gets a little bit more suspicious. It’s when they’re all a couple of bites into their meal, and Riley folds open a napkin.
“I’m not gonna ruin this dress on the first night,” she says as she drapes it over her lap. On their way back up to the table, two fingers brush against Charlotte’s bare thigh. When she starts blushing, she’s relieved to be able to blame the spicy food.
The third time is definitely not an accident. After finishing her meal, Riley’s gaze shifts to a point on the horizon behind Lou and Gabi.
“Oh wow, look you guys,” she says excitedly. “From this angle, if you look right between those trees, you can just see the sunset! It’s gorgeous.”
Their friends turn around, finding the exact right spot to be able to peer between the numerous large trunks, making appreciative noises once they see it.
Charlotte leans in too, angling and adjusting her head to get Riley’s point of view.
When she feels Riley gingerly yet very much deliberately tickling the small of her back, she realizes she’s fallen for one of her sly tricks. Smooth motherfucker.
At first she’s not sure whether she wants to kiss or kill Riley, but she settles on kill when the fingers on her back trail sideways to where she’s extremely ticklish, and she really shouldn’t have done that because Charlotte yelps like a damn chihuahua.
Riley quickly retracts her arm, Gabi and Lou spin back around, and Charlotte—somehow at maximum brainpower—starts swatting the air around her head.
“Bugs, bugs!” she yells with a disgusted look on her face.
“Yeah, it’s bad here right?” Lou supplies helpfully, unbeknownst to herself. “We’ve already killed a few wasps on our balcony.”
“Oh, yes, it’sreallyannoying,” Charlotte confirms, aggressively taking the last bite of her meal.
For a few seconds while she chews, nothing happens. Then, out of absolutely nowhere, after carefully placingdown her fork and spoon, Charlotte hits Riley square in the upper arm with her flat palm and awhackthat makes two seagulls by their table fly up and away.
Riley’s yowl sounds like her soul is leaving her body. It gets stuck somewhere in her throat and dies down as a sharp whimper.
Gabi and Lou are both stuck mid-motion, a look of complete horror on their faces.
“Mosquito,” Charlotte shrugs, and dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
