I sink back into the booth, processing that information. “But then…what would I do instead?”
“Anything you want.” Jess shrugs. “I can keep the page running, and you’d just have to check in a couple of times a week to chat with your top spenders. You could keep posting photos and the occasional solo video if you want, just to keep things fresh. But you wouldn’t even have to do that if you don’t want to. Eventually, the traffic will probably decrease over time if you’re not putting out new work, but you could supplement with brand deals on your other socials or even modeling work, probably. Or you could go be a stockroom boy at Target, if your little heart so desires. I bet red looks great on you. The sky is the limit.”
She pauses to let that sink in, but the way her lips are pursed tells me there’s something she isn’t saying. “And what’s the ‘but’ here?” I ask.
“No ‘but,’” she insists. “If I’m not mistaken, though…this would also resolve the last issue standing between you and Riley.”
Every thought in my head comes to a grinding halt.
“You quit drinking, you’ve been in therapy, you aremuchmore emotionally mature now,” she states, ticking facts off on her fingers, “and if you can quit collabing with other people, that will be the last thing that he asked of you. You’ve done the workyou needed to do, Luke, and you did it for yourself. Riley was the one who put things in motion, but you’ve spent this past year focused on your physical and mental health and on your work, and it’s paid off in more ways than one. Maybe it isn’t my place to say, and maybe you’ve moved on…” She points to my chest. “But I’m going to go out on a limb and say I don’t think you have.”
She’s both right and wrong. Ihavemoved on in the ways that she said—bettering myself for me because I needed it, not because I was trying to win Riley back, but I’ve also never stopped missing him and wishing things could be different for us. But I couldn’t possibly call him up out of the blue and ask him to give us another shot…not after he asked me not to contact him again. Right?
“But…if I wouldn’t even quit for Riley, how can I justify quitting for myself now?”
“How are the two related? You can quit at any time, for any reason you want. Stop carrying around guilt that doesn’t belong to you.” Jess leans forward and takes both my hands in hers. “I don’t need an answer right now. Just think about it. If you want to keep working, you can, but I wanted you to know all of your options.”
“Thanks, Jess.” I lift one of her hands and kiss her knuckles. “You’re the best boss I could ask for, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”
She rolls her eyes and frees her hand to give me a sharp pat on the cheek. “You know I love you. Now, where on earth is our waiter? I need tacos, stat.”
This time, I order fajitas instead of tacos.
Jess’s words are still echoing in my mind hours later as I’m getting ready for my birthday dinner.
Could I really quit? The idea is less terrifying than it was a year ago, but it’s still a little unnerving to think of such a massive change to my routine. And why did she mention Riley? Has she talked to him? Does she know something I don’t?
It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve looked at his travel blog or any of his other social media, but I remember the cupcake video he posted last year for my birthday, and suddenly checking it now seems way more important than finishing this shave job.
Cinching my towel tightly around my waist, I don’t bother wiping off the rest of my shaving cream before sinking down onto the bed and retrieving my phone from the nightstand. Aggie blinks sleepy eyes open at me from her spot where Riley’s pillow used to be. If she could talk, she would probably tell me this is a bad idea. Thank fuck she can’t.
There’s a new post today from a recent trip to Santa Fe—a carousel of photos of beautiful mountain views, the biggest breakfast burrito I’ve ever seen in my life, pueblo-style buildings…and Scott. My heart sinks. I keep swiping through photos, looking for anything at all that indicates that Riley remembers what today is, until I reach a short video in the last slide. They were obviously on a hiking trail, and the video was taken by Scott of Riley from a few paces behind. Riley is wearing a zip-up hoodie and running shorts so short that I can see the curve of his ass cheeks. His quads flex, and his pert ass bounceswith every step he takes. There are several comments on the post, but one stands out immediately. It looks to be from Scott’s personal account and just says, “Cheekies!” with a kissy face emoji.
A pang of jealousy twists in my gut. I know I have no right to be upset. Riley isn’t mine, but it kills me to think of someone else experiencing everything I wish I could.
I scroll backward through the pictures and pause on the one of Riley about to take a bite of that giant burrito. Maybe I’m imagining things, but his smile doesn’t seem quite as bright as I remember. Is he happy? Would he even want to hear from me if I reached out after all this time?
There’s something about Scott, too…they seem to be very close, but there’s no evidence on Riley’s page that they’re a couple. Scott’s page is private, so no luck snooping there. But maybe Riley is just keeping the couple-y stuff off of social media because he knows I check? Would he really still worry about that after a year, though? Surely if he was going to move on with his love life, he would just do it without considering me. So who exactly is Scott to him?
I’m still contemplating this when my phone vibrates in my hand, replacing the photo of Riley with an incoming call from Nathan.
As soon as I answer, I’m greeted with a terribly off-key rendition of the birthday song, and I immediately pull my phone away from my ear. “Man, it’s a good thing you’re creative in other ways,” I laugh, “because I’m pretty sure an alley cat in a trash can could sing it better than you.”
“Wow, shots fired,” Nate pouts. “I guess I’ll let that comment slide since you’re the birthday boy. How’s your day been so far?”
“Not bad at all,” I answer. “Actually…it’s been pretty damn good. Are you coming tonight?”
“Ah…that’s actually why I’m calling.” I can hear the guilt in his voice when he says, “I’m in New York.”
“No way, really? For work?”
“Sort of…” He sighs. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call sooner. I meant to get ahold of you this week when shit started happening, but everything happened so fast…and I moved out here a few days ago.”
I flop back onto the bed in shock. “Holy shit, dude.”
Nathan sighs. “I know, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or get a chance to at least drop by and say goodbye. But after Tabby and Brent’s wedding last month, it’s all just kinda been a blur. I’m happy for them, I am, but it was a lot to take in, you know?”
“Yeah, I can imagine…” I trail off, feeling suddenly guilty myself. “I’m sorry for not being a better friend and checking in on you more this past year.”
