He sounds a little sheepish, but it makes me sad for him. With no family to speak of, I guess it makes sense that he would spend holidays alone. I bite back the urge to invite him home with me. He’d probably think I’m insane. We barely know each other, of course he’s not going to buy a plane ticket toOklahoma,of all places, for the holidays. I’m sure he’ll be much happier here on his own, doing whatever it is he normally does.
But still, hours after we part ways and I arrive home to lock myself in my room for the rest of the night…I can’t get the idea out of my head.
15
LUKE
I’ve lived in California my whole life, so I’m used to it being seventy degrees and sunny all the time. We don’t have much variety in seasons here normally, but today is the first day it actually sort of feels like fall.
The sky is overcast when I wake up, and the temperature has dropped a few degrees. Probably not enough for the hoodie I pull on over my T-shirt, but I’m in the fall spirit. Since I’m running a little ahead of schedule, I swing by the coffee shop on my way to drop Aggie off at daycare and order my usual iced coffee and her cup of whipped cream. I debate if it would be too presumptuous to order Riley an iced coffee, too, but then figure, fuck it, if he doesn’t drink it, I will.
I’m on my way to pick him up so we can head to the cabin, and I’ve been looking forward to this collab more than I’ve been willing to admit. After my dinner with Jess where I vomited all my feelings, I took some time to clean myself up and figure out where to go from here. I had hoped Riley didn’t notice, but he’s a perceptive little shit, and of course he knew the vibes were off. Even after weeks of turning it over in my mind, I’m not sure I’many closer to an answer about what to do next, and I was missing him a lot.
I shouldn’t have been worried about asking him to collab again; there are several guys I’ve worked with more than once, but as with everything else Riley-related, this seemed different. After the relief I felt when he agreed to come to the cabin with me, I realized that it was the idea of being rejected that I was most afraid of. I guess maybe this is how guys felt asking a girl to prom, and not for the first time I’m met with the uncomfortable thought that maybe my avoidance of relationships or attachments of any kind has hurt me more than I realized. Now I’m finding myself with a high school crush at almost forty years old, and if I think aboutthattoo hard, I’m going to feel foolish enough to just turn around and go home.
But then I picture Riley’s bright face clouding over in disappointment, and there’s no way I’m going to be the cause of that.
I’m terrified of what I might feel for Riley. But I think I’m even more terrified of how I might feel if I don’t give myself a chance at this. In spite of telling myself not to hope, that’s exactly what I’m doing now. Hope has always been such a fragile thing in my hands, and in spite of how carefully I hold it, somehow it always shatters anyway.
Riley is ready and waiting out front when I pull up. He looks ridiculously adorable in a pair of black joggers and a white T-shirt that says “howdy” in block letters across the front. The “o” is a smiley face wearing a cowboy hat. He jogs to the Jeep, and I don’t think there will ever be a day where my heart doesn’t skip when he turns that smile on me.
“You’re early,” he comments, climbing in and dropping his backpack in the seat behind him.
“So are you,” I counter, setting up the address of the cabin in my GPS before we take off. I’m not about to tell him that just likethe day of our first collab, I woke up before my alarm and was too excited to go back to sleep.
“Trying to steer clear of my roommate,” he grumbles. “I’m not sure what his deal is. He’s barely spoken to me, and I’ve been living here almost three months. He has some kind of nine-to-five tech job, so at least I get the place to myself during the week mostly, but when he’s home I just try and stay in my room because it feels like I’m always in his way otherwise.” He looks down and notices the iced coffees in the cup holder. “You just extra thirsty today, or is one of these for me?”
“Oh, yeah,” I chuckle, opting to take the 101 since it looks like traffic is lighter than usual. “Sorry, I should’ve texted to ask what you like. It was a last-minute decision to stop, so I just got you what I always order.”
“No, this is perfect, thank you,” he exclaims, grabbing the cup and taking a long sip. He closes his eyes contentedly for a moment and sighs. “Exactly what I needed. You’re so sweet.”
I hope the sunglasses I’m wearing hide the blush I can feel spreading across my cheeks at him calling me sweet. I make a noncommittal noise and focus on navigating traffic until we make it to the highway. Riley sips his coffee and peers out the window, looking relaxed and content. The silence is comfortable between us, and I fight the urge to reach over and take his hand in mine. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.
What is going on with me? These small, quiet moments with him throw me for a loop every time. I’m sure I’ve held hands with someone before, but I can’t recall a specific instance off the top of my head. It’s actually embarrassing how inexperienced I am at any sort of interpersonal relationship when my literal job is sex, and my cheeks heat in shame this time, overriding the joy I felt just moments ago.
“Want me to put some music on?” Riley’s voice startles me out of my spiral. “I’ve got a great road trip playlist.”
“Depends,” I tease, “It’s not all country music, is it?”
His jaw drops in mock outrage. “Hey! Rude! You think just because I’m from Oklahoma all I listen to is country? I’m tempted to put on some red dirt music just for that.”
“Redwhatnow?” I laugh.
“Oh you’ll be sorry you asked.” He’s scrolling through his phone with a smirk that looks sort of evil, and it makes me wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. He lets out a triumphant shout as he connects his phone to the speaker and presses play. My ears are assaulted with finger-picking electric guitar, a harmonica solo, and…is that a fiddle?
“Sunshine…what in thefuckis this?”
Disbelief must be written across my face because Riley doubles over in laughter and can’t catch his breath long enough to answer. He manages to shut the song off and find his road trip playlist, which kicks off with the new pop single that’s been on every radio station for the past month. “Terrible, isn’t it?” he finally chuckles. “My sister Mandy loves it. She used to drive all around the state with her friends, catching shows in dive bars. I can tolerate some country pop, but that’s the real local stuff. It’s wildly popular in Oklahoma and Texas.”
“Oh, thank fuck, I was afraid you were going to say that was your favorite band or something.” I exhale in exaggerated relief. “I thought I was going to have to kick you out on the side of the highway and make you hitchhike back to WeHo.”
He lets out another one of those deep belly laughs, and I think it might be my favorite sound I’ve heard him make yet. “Well lucky me then, I guess.”
“So, if concerts in dive bars aren’t your thing…what do you do for fun in Oklahoma?” I ask.
“Cow tipping.”
My head whips around and I’m met with a completely serious, blank expression. My eyes widen and he bursts outlaughing again. “God, you really think I’m some kind of redneck hillbilly, don’t you?” he howls.
