“Thanks,” was all Riley said. I realized he was gesturing with his left hand for me to go around and get in the car, so I did. He loaded my other bag in the backseat.
Then he stood and spoke to them in a very casual, friendly tone. “If you ever see her walking in the neighborhood again, you cross to the other side of the street, do you understand me? You don’t look at her, you don’t talk to her. Stay at least fifteen feet away from her, or I will fuck your shit up, no questions asked.”
“Hey, we don’t want no trouble,” one of them said, holding up his hands and looking alarmed.
I almost felt bad for them. Almost. But the truth was, their intention had been to harass me, and that was bullshit. A woman should be able to walk on the sidewalk without taking crap.
“Good.” Climbing back in, Riley turned the car around in the nearest driveway, while I yanked my purse off and stuck my right arm out the window to air out.
Lifting my hair off my neck, I twisted it into a knot and tucked it through so it would stay up for at least the drive to the house. “Holy shit, it’s hot out here. Thanks for picking me up.”
“Why the hell were you riding the bus?” Riley glanced over at me, and he was shaking his head in disbelief, amused. “Do you know who rides the bus?”
“Teenage boys and old men who smell like pee?”
“Exactly.” He gave me a small laugh. “Welcome to paradise, Jessica.”
“It wasn’t awful,” I told him, which was true. It had been more unnerving than really horrific. Especially now that I was in his car and in zero danger, the bus didn’t seem that bad at all in hindsight. In fact, I felt a little triumphant that I had managed it on my own. Well, almost my own. I suppose without Riley it might have had a more irritating outcome, but I didn’t think those guys were actually dangerous. Then again, Kylie always told me I downplayed trouble, and I suppose that was true. After all, I was moving into Riley’s house in a sketchy neighborhood when I was supposed to be off building new houses for the financially needy. That was borrowing trouble with my parents, no doubt, if they ever found out.
Though as we pulled into Riley’s drive, I thought probably the Mann boys qualified for the title of financially needy themselves. It was, to be totally honest, a shithole, a house that no one had cared about in a long time. Exactly what I was expecting, but as the bungalow sagged in the heat, it was undeniable.
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” he said.
“Are you complimenting me?” And why did that stupidly please me? That wasn’t exactly a glowing report. But then again, I did pride myself on being strong, so that he thought it couldn’t help but make me happy.
“If I am, don’t worry, it’s backhanded,” he assured me as he parked the car. “Now why do you look like you packed to study in Europe for a year? I thought you’re here for only a week.”
How to explain without lying? I only wanted to keep some of the information from him, not be totally dishonest. But I didn’t want him to know I was lying to my parents. “This is all my stuff from my dorm room. Well, a lot of it. Kylie took some of it home for me, but I couldn’t ask her to drag all of it. It wouldn’t fit in Mark’s car.”
“Who is Mark?”
That was what he pulled out of that paragraph? Yay. That was an easy question to answer. “He’s a guy Kylie and I went to high school with who has a car on campus. He usually gives us a ride if our parents don’t pick us up.” Then I was immediately sorry I’d mentioned parents. I didn’t want Riley to ask me about mine.
But he seemed to lose interest in the conversation in general, stepping out of the car, giving me a great view of his perfect ass in jeans that fit the way they should on a guy, not too loose, not too tight. They were riding just slightly past his hips, his back muscles clearly outlined as he twisted. Head thunk. What was I doing? I was supposed to ignore his hotness. It was a mental pact I’d made with myself over the last two days as I had packed up my room. It was the only way I could justify staying with Riley, to swear totally and on my favorite pair of Guess jeans that I would not pay attention to anything about him other than to note how annoying he was.
I opened the back door to grab the second suitcase, but he was already dragging it across the seat.
“Thanks,” I said.
“No problem.” He studied the sticker on it and fought a smile. “So were your little friends on the bus with you?”
“Yes. I think they were following me.”
“Oh, most definitely. You stick out like a pink thumb.”
“Ha ha. You don’t think they were dangerous, do you?” Unless I was mistaken as to how to conceal a weapon, I hadn’t seen anything on those two. Then again, their jeans had been like garbage bags, so what did I know?
“Not to me. To you? Maybe. You were smart to call me.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I reached for a suitcase to roll it up the driveway, but he waved me off and got both.
“Your sarcasm is annoying,” he told me.
“Why? Because it reminds you of yourself?” I tossed at him, walking over the gravel and up the crumbling steps behind him. For a second, I almost questioned their structural soundness, but then I realized that would be rude.
“That’s entirely possible,” he admitted.
The door wasn’t locked. He shoved it open and swept his arm out for me to enter. “Mi shitty casa es su shitty casa.”
“You need a doormat with that on it,” I told him, brushing by him, determined not to look at his chest, or his eyes, both of which were way more dangerous to my health than the dudes on the bus. My arm touched his pec despite my best efforts, and his skin was warm.
“If we had a doormat it would get stolen,” he said.
I stepped into the stifling heat of the living room. There was no air-conditioning. Craptastic. It smelled like old cigarettes and boy. Sometimes I could tolerate boy but the cigarettes I couldn’t. Wrinkling my nose, I moved forward, peering into a small kitchen while trying to look like I wasn’t checking it out.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.
I glanced back to see him watching me carefully, my suitcases standing at attention on either side of him.
No, I wasn’t sure.
“Rory doesn’t mind it here, but Rory is in love with Tyler. For some bizarre reason, people are willing to put up with a lot of shit when they’re in love. I know this place is a dump, so there is still time for you to bail.”
It was tempting. The carpet was dirty brown, stained with years of street dirt and mud and who knew what else. The couch had a sag to each cushion, and it might have been a faded red plaid, but it was hard to say exactly. The oak coffee table was covered with video game boxes and an ashtray loaded with butts. There were no curtains, just a sheet that had been hung with thumbtacks. I wanted to bail, I’m not going to lie. But it was just too rude. If I had absorbed anything positive from my childhood, it was manners that popped up when I least expected them. “No, it’s fine. I appreciate you putting up with this arrangement since it was Tyler’s idea and you and I are not exactly best friends.”
He shrugged. “No big deal. There is plenty of room with the boys gone.”
“Well, thank you.” That was about as gushing as I was going to get about it, so I hoped he heard my sincerity.
“You’re welcome.”
However, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Can I open a window? I have asthma, and the smoke bothers me.” Which wasn’t exactly the truth. At all. But I was going to be coughing in another ten minutes if I didn’t get some fresh air.
Riley gave me an incredulous look. “You don’t have asthma. You’re just saying that because you think it stinks in here.”
Bingo. “What? Of course I do. Why would I lie about having asthma? And how do you know if I have it or not?” Maybe that was defending myself too passionately. I shut my mouth, cheeks just a little hot that he had busted me in my lie.
“I know because I’ve seen you outside in the middle of winter, I’ve seen you dance all night at a club, and I’ve seen you talk enough to make your teeth ache, but I’ve never once seen you use an inhaler. And you’ve never mentioned it before, and Tyler and Nathan smoke in the apartment all the time.”
Damn it. Why couldn’t he be an idiot? It would be much easier to manipulate him that way. “Fine, you’re
