“Let’s get started,” she says.
It’s beenover an hour since Riley and I started to sort through everything. She’s been laser-focused, quiet—giddy even. I’d steal glances when I could and take in what I could get: her full, pink lips’ puckering every time she scanned the numbers in writing, or the way she would squint at the screen and hum to herself.
We found our way to the floor while the laptop was propped on the coffee table. Our backs press against the soft couch, crumpled-up paper is scattered around us, and a paper bag that has our discarded lunch wrappers.
If she had to explain something to me, I’d lean in, looking at the screen. She smells like sea salt and sunshine. If I close my eyes, I’d think it’s summertime.
Riley shuffles a stack of papers after using Dad’s scanner, then creates a shared drive for us to use. Each document has its own folder and color: accounting is blue, vendors are orange, inventory is red, budgeting is purple, samples are yellow, and shipping is green.
“Okay, let’s look this over again.” Riley scrolls through the screen and clicks on the folder. The mouse drags on the wooden table while she clicks on each one. “How does everything look to you? Easy to find things?”
I nod. “A lot better. I feel like I can finally breathe.”
“Good, I’m glad.” She rubs her eyes andcloses the laptop, then lets out a tired sigh as she leans her head back on the couch.
The muscles in my shoulders ease, and I unwind. Riley’s eyes are closed with her lips slightly parted. We’re inches away from each other, close enough that she could rest her head on my shoulder if she wanted to.
She took her hat off thirty minutes after she got here, and I’d do a double-take because I’m still not used to how short her hair is. She’s always had long, wavy hair. Now it’s just above her shoulders.
At the end of the day, she could shave her head, and she’d still be pretty to me. But I know she wouldn’t do that even if someone paid her to do it for fun.
The faintness of her breath still smells minty from the gum she was chewing earlier. This moment is precious to me, and I don’t want to ruin it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I don’t think she understands just how much I appreciate her right now. She’s saved me from being lost and feeling discouraged.
I miss her.
The look in her eyes is magnetic; it’s impossible to turn away from her when her gaze bounces from my eyes to my lips.
“Riley.” The sound of my voice borders on desperation.
“Yeah?” Her voice is small and inviting.
“Would you hate it if I told you that I still think about our kiss?”
She glances down at my lips and back to me, shaking her head. “I don’t blame you.” Her voice is hushed, with an undertone of teasing. “I’m a great kisser.”
With each second that passes, we inch closer to each other, gravity pulling us together.
The corner of my lip tugs into a smirk. “You’re okay, I guess.”
“You’re just saying that, so I kiss you again.”
“And what if I am?”
My hand hovers along her cheek when I finally let myself touch her. I watch her lashes flutter and her eyes close.
“Then do it, August. Kiss me, again.”
Our lips brush together when we go into a slow, lazy kiss. The type of kiss you want to drag out forever. It’d be no surprise if she could hear the pounding of my heart. She must know that I’m all hers. The love I have for this woman barrels out from me.
The taste of mint still lingers when her tongue meets mine. She brushes her fingers through the thickness of my hair and grips part of it before resting it on my nape.
What started out controlled and calm turns into need and desire.
Hooking my hands onto her hips, I pull her on top of me, and she meets me halfway, moving her leg across my lap. The lens of my glasses rubs on my face as we continue, ignoring the fact that they're going to be dirty and smudged.
