Chapter Nineteen
Riley held his tongue between his lips as rubbed sandpaper over the finer details of the railings, feeling his mind clear as he sank into the rhythm of sanding and dusting, sanding and dusting.
He understood why his father had been the kind of man who did this. He understood why Brent’s father had, as well. Being able to make something with his hands was one of Riley’s favorite feelings. Stillness seemed a lot closer to his grasp when his hands were occupied, no matter how genuinely he tried to meditate.
Perhaps meditation didn’t have to be the same thing for everyone. Maybe he would have been better off taking up whittling. Or crochet.
Considering how confused and worried he was right now, the fact that he was managing even alittlecalm told him he should probably think about getting a hobby.
Brent obviously wanted him here, and he’d said it wasn’t a rebound thing, but Riley didn’t necessarily believe that.
He believed that Brent didn’t think it was, he didn’t think for a second that Brent was lying to him, but he wasn’t sure Brent knew his own feelings all that well right now.
Riley was waiting for him to snap out of it and realize what he was really getting himself into.
Brent was a great catch, but Riley… was not. He knew it well enough that the thought didn’t even bother him anymore.
He’d never be alone, but he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him as a constant companion. Even Brent.
“You know, we have an electric sander,” Brent said. “It hasn’t been used in a while, but it’s gotta be faster than this.”
Riley looked up, his mind snapping back to the present. Brent was still in the sweatpants he’d worn to bed, his hair sleep-ruffled and his features soft.
He was beautiful.
“I’m trying to preserve the detail,” Riley said after a moment. “I’m not interested in fast. I’m interested in careful. But thank you.”
“You really don’t have to do a careful job,” Brent murmured, running his hand through his hair. “You’re doing more than enough.”
“My dad used to say that any job worth doing is worth doing right.” Riley glanced back down at his work, but he couldn’t concentrate on it while Brent was around. Brent took up all his focus.
“You and your dad never really saw eye-to-eye.”
Riley sighed. He knew he’d given people that impression, but it wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t even close to the whole truth.
“Philosophically, we did. We were very similar people. He cared about a lot of the things I cared about. But he wanted to hand the family business over to me the day I turned eighteen. I wasn’t ready. When I left, it was to escape that. By the time I was ready to come back… he was gone. Owen was gone. Charlie was at college most of the time. I love my mom, but the house was so quiet without all of them. I couldn’t stay there. Maybe I’m a coward.”
Brent shifted his weight between his feet. “I don’t think you’re a coward. I could never do what you do. I need to know I have a home to go to.”
Riley laughed. “So do I. I wish somewhere felt like home to me. I barely remember what it’s like to be home.”
Riley hated admitting that he felt lost, but if he could tell anyone, it was Brent. Brent would understand.
“How do you mean?” Brent asked, glancing over at the RV.
Of course. Everyone thought that was Riley’s home.
He had no idea how to explain to him that it was just where helived. But if anyone would get it, if anyone would be willing to listen to him for long enough to understand, well…
“I left Hope Springs because it didn’t feel like home. I… hate to admit it now, but I wasn’t getting along with my dad. Not because I didn’t love him, but because like I said, we wanted different things. So this place stopped feeling like home.”
“Okay, but… the RV doesn’t feel like home, either?”
Riley shook his head. “It’s… a house, but not a home. Home is about more than four walls. Home is about where you feel safe, where you feel like you belong. And I’m still looking for that. I’ve looked all over. I started going to Mexico because, y’know, my dad’s mom was from there…”
“I actually didn’t know that,” Brent said.
Riley paused.
