Just A Little Bit ✔️

14. Riley

Riley Jameson, In Real Life

I should've stayed back at the hotel. I shouldn't be here at the bar with Stephie, drinking under her watchful eye. I shouldn't be here pretending the girls who just walked in haven't been gawking and working up the courage to ask us for a photo. I feel awfully, out of place, like a fish on dry land.

I'm trying to act as if it isn't suffocating me to see Kinley on the dance floor. Wrapped up in Gage as he spins her, dips her, rests his hands just above her ass. They're so close I'm certain he might make a move. I want to punch him for it, which I know isn't a mature response. It shouldn't even be an instinct for me. I shouldn't care who she's dancing with, or even who might take her home.

In my mind, I should be there. I should take her home and work her zipper down and peel her out of that dress. I should tell her everything I've thought and wanted and desired. We've been honest before, but after that moment we had during our pit stop, I thought we could get somewhere.

Freddie's words snap me out of it. The reminder.

They're all different until they aren't.

He's my best friend. I don't think he would ever lie to me. He's always been there to call me out on my shit, and this is probably one of those times that I need to be called out. I don't want to hurt Kinley, and he knows that. That's the only reason he would tell me to back off.

There was a time in my life I would've married Holly Henley. That seems insane to admit now, but in those days, I believed she was the best thing to ever happen to me. I knew nothing of real love or even sex. She was my world, even if she shouldn't have been. She was the first girl I ever cared about, and I thought she was special.

I thought every girl I've dated or talked to was special. They were, but not to me. Sometimes, the right girl for some other man isn't the right girl for you. The trick is to identify when that's true before you break someone's heart.

I feel like a monster thinking about it. I never wanted to turn Kinley into one of my conquests, someone for jealous girls to attack and media outlets to go after. Freddie was right. She deserves more than that, and bringing her into my world is a selfish thing to do.

I want her. I shouldn't.

I need to stop.

I bite down on my lip, trying to listen to whatever Stephie is saying.

"Riley," she says, snapping her fingers in my face. "Come on, Jameson. This is the part where you act like you actually want to be here."

I sigh. "Sorry."

She follows my eyes to where Kinley stands and shakes her head. "You know you could talk to her, right?"

"It's not that easy."

"It sure as hell isn't rocket science either."

"You don't get it," I quip, polishing off the rest of my rum and coke.

"I do. You're in love with her, and that's why you've been staring at her like a kicked puppy all night."

"What?" I sputter.

"You're in love with her," Stephie repeats. "You think we don't see it?"

"No one said anything about love."

To be fair, I didn't have to. It was probably in my eyes when she was sitting next to me at the piano last night, her hands brushing mine when she'd join in to take over. Instead of playing our single, we did a rendition of Hurricane You and I swear I've never sung anything better in my whole life.

That moment is over. Now we're in a new city with a new concert tomorrow. She's probably forgotten about that performance because that was all it was, and all it ever will be.

"I don't love her," I say, the words stale in my mouth. Like they don't belong. Like a lie I can't swallow.

"Prove it," Stephie challenges me.

I hold her gaze for a long time, waiting for her to call it off and tell me she's only playing. Judging by the fact she's three drinks in, she's feeling bold. Bold enough to call me out. If there's anything Stephie Crane isn't, it's afraid to back down from a bet.

"I don't," I insist.

Then, I order another drink and walk myself to a girl at the end of the bar.

She's been stealing looks since I got here. She's been watching me and I'd be wrong if I said I didn't check her out. Long legs. Brunette. Just my type.

Kinley's my type too.

I waltz up to the mystery woman before I can talk myself out of it. She's even prettier up close, and the smell of her perfume makes it impossible to go.

"You're Riley Jameson," she says.

"Are you stalking me?" I ask playfully.

She shrugs. "I'm just a fan. You're hard to miss."

"So are you," I reply, leaning in a little more.

She gestures to the bartender. "Are you gonna buy me a drink, or are you gonna stand here taking in the view?"

"I think we'll get a drink, and then I'll get to look a little longer. What is that? Gin and tonic?"

"You know your stuff," she says, surprised.

"I know my way around a bar."

"That's good to know. I thought you were only good with a guitar."

It's my turn to shrug. "I'd like to think I have a few talents."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

The flirting is easy. I can pretend this isn't anything out of the ordinary. She wouldn't be the first girl I chatted up at a bar, but she is the first one I've chatted up while thinking about someone else.

I buy her two drinks.

She repays me with a blowjob in the men's room. Sweet lips wrapped around me, grazing me with her teeth to get me to shake.

Fuck.

The worst thing is, I never get her name.

***

i had to create some drama. couldn't resist

how y'all doing? better than riley? worse? how do you feel about the angst? what's gonna happen with rinley??

it's a m y s t e r y

signing off,

mads