they were inside Amy’s piece-of-shit car, Riley sidled up against the heating vents, rubbing her arms over the long- sleeved tee that Amy had given her. “You know, if you’d stayed at my place, you’d be warm and dry right now.”
“Didn’t know how long I could stay.”
Amy’s heart squeezed. “How about until something better comes along?”
Riley was huddled into herself, shivering, and didn’t answer. Amy understood that, too. When Amy had been that age, nothing better
They ate grilled cheese sandwiches at the small kitchen table-Amy’s go-to comfort food. Riley inhaled every last crumb. “Thanks,” she said when they were done. She was looking a whole lot less like a drowned rat now. Her hair was drying in soft, natural curls, and with her face clean, Amy realized just how pretty she was. “Got a call about you the other day,” she said. “A hang-up, actually.” She told Riley about the phantom phone call she’d received at the diner.
Riley didn’t say a word but went pale.
Amy frowned at her. “What is it? You know who called?”
Riley shrugged.
“You want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Well there was a surprise. “You know you don’t have to live like this, on the run, right?” Amy asked. “You could get some help, make some roots. Stick around.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“So get a job.”
“I’m not good at anything.”
“Well, that’s not true. For instance,” Amy said, “you’re a great conversationalist. And such a sweet, sunny, friendly nature, too.”
Riley had the good grace to grimace at the gentle teasing.
“Look,” Amy said, “you could bus tables at the diner. You won’t get rich or anything, but you could support yourself. There’s a lot of freedom in that, Riley.”
Riley remained quiet while staring at her empty plate.
“And as a bonus, you could eliminate the sitting in the rain bit entirely, fun as that probably was. And with all your spare time, you could get good at whatever you want to be good at. You could go to school, or whatever you want.”
Riley looked at her. “What are you good at?”
“Drawing.”
“I suck at drawing.”
“So you’ll find something you don’t suck at,” Amy said. “Something for you. It’s all about choices and decisions.”
“I usually choose to make really bad decisions.”
Amy laughed softly in sympathy. “I hear you. I happened to major in bad decisions myself. But I’m working on it. Part of that comes from stopping the cycle, getting some good sleep and decent food in your system so you’re not reacting off the cuff. Stay here tonight.”
Riley shrugged.
“Yes or no.”
Riley looked out the window, where the rain was still pouring down. She sighed. “Yes.”
“Now see? There’s a good decision.”
The next day, Matt was hanging off the North Rim, forty feet above ground, holding onto the granite with only his fingers and toes.
Josh was at his right and a foot or so below him.
It was a race to the top, with the loser buying dinner. Josh had bought the past four meals in a row, which he’d bitched about like a little girl, claiming that the finishes had been far too close to call.
Bullshit. Matt had won fair and square, though granted he’d only done so by an inch or two. But a win was a win.
“Move your lady-like fingers,” Josh groused when Matt reached out far to his right for a good finger-hold. “You’re in my way.”
Matt didn’t move. The sun was beating down on his back, and he felt sweat drip down the side of his jaw. “Hey, Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“Which lady-like finger am I holding up now?”
Josh took in Matt’s flipping him the bird and
“You want rude? I’m having everything on the menu at Eat Me tonight, on
“Fuck you,” Josh said. “I’m not buying you everything on the menu.”
“Is that what you say to the ladies?”
“The
Matt eyeballed the ledge above him and tried to figure out the best way to get there. “Fine. If you don’t want to buy dinner, you’re going to have to beat me to the top.”
Apparently getting a second wind at the thought, Josh pulled himself up another few feet. This put him in the lead. Matt wasn’t too worried. There were still a few feet to go, and Josh was breathing hard. “You’re sucking some serious wind, Doc. You need to get in the ring before you go soft like… like a doctor.”
Josh snorted. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his large six-foot-four-inch frame, and they both knew it. People teased him that he was like a bull in a china shop, but the truth was, Dr. Josh Scott was so highly regarded as a doctor that he had to turn patients away.
And for all his big talk, Josh turned away the women, too.
“When’s the last time you even got any?” Matt asked.
Josh slid him a look behind his dark sunglasses. “You want to swap stories?”
“Do you even have a story to swap?”
Josh let out what might have been a sigh. “Been busy.”
“No one should be that busy, man.”
“My practice is swamped. And Anna’s been acting up. And Toby… he needs me at home.”
Josh had sole custody of his five-year-old son, Toby. He’d also taken in his younger sister after their parents died six years ago. Anna was twenty-one now and hell on wheels, literally, having ended up in a wheelchair from the same car accident that had killed their parents. She’d spent her teen years dedicated to making Josh insane, and she’d nearly succeeded, too. It’d be a lot for any guy to handle, but with Josh’s job, it’d been nearly impossible.
“So you and Amy finally did it, huh?” Josh said.
Matt nearly fell off the face of the mountain. “Who told you that?” he demanded, once he’d recovered his hold and had secured himself so that his own death wasn’t imminent.
Josh dipped his head to eye Matt over the top of his sunglasses, mouth curving. “You. Just now.”
“Shit.” He had nothing else to say. Mostly because he didn’t
Pot, kettle. He knew this. He hated this. He’d called her earlier to check on her, just to see if she was okay. According to her, she’d been fine. She’d also steered clear of a real conversation, other than to tell him that Riley was back and staying with her.
“So you and Amy, huh? Funny.”
“How’s that funny?”