Strike a Pose (Blame It on Fame #1)

29. Riley

Chapter 29

Riley

H oly shit. I was up half the night replaying that kiss…I feel like a teenager again, obsessing over the tiniest bit of contact. But I can’t help it when I just had the best kiss of my life by far . I mean, the second her lips met mine, I was instantly hard, using every ounce of self-control I had to keep my hands from roaming all over her body. Even now the thought of her still has me feeling some type of way.

But I knew I was working on borrowed time last night. Willow’s not into me, and she has made that very, very clear any time something even remotely romantic happens. I mean, she broke away from the greatest kiss I’ve ever had to tell me that it was a mistake. I get it, though. Why would she be into me when she could have literally any man on Earth? I’ll just have to do my best to swallow my feelings for her.

The morning after the kiss, Willow and I wake up early to head for the airport. It’s a short drive, and we arrive just as the sun begins to peak out above the horizon, coloring the sky in vibrant shades of orange and pink. I pull up to a back gate where we’re waved in and directed to pull up next to her family’s jet .

A bodyguard is already at the side of our car, helping Willow out.

“I’m going to miss you,” I say as I exit the car and help the guard get her bags out the back.

“I’m going to miss you too, Riley,” she says, her light hair reflecting the orange-hued sky. “But we’ll text. And call. And I think I owe you a luxurious, fame-soaked weekend, right?”

“Right.” I laugh. “As long as it’s aboard The Seashell Princess .”

She fights a grin. “I never should have told you about that.”

“You really shouldn’t have. I’m not going to let you live that down. And you better come to one of my shows, too. Normal people go to concerts.”

Willow laughs. “No arguing with that. I guess I have to, then.”

“I’ll see you soon,” I say, pulling her into my arms. She hugs back tightly, holding on for a few seconds longer than is standard. Not that I mind.

“Soon,” she echoes as we separate, running a hand through her long hair absentmindedly, completely unaware of the effect it has on me. “Thank your parents again for me, will you?” she asks as she begins walking backward toward the plane.

“Of course,” I say as she turns her back to me, fully walking away now. I watch as she climbs the stairs to the jet. As if she feels my eyes following her, she turns and gives me one last smile before disappearing inside.

“Son.” My dad peers over the top of his newspaper as I walk into the kitchen. “You could have mentioned that your little friend was the daughter of Isabelle and Robert Jordan. ”

“I’m sorry. I would have told you, but I didn’t know if she want ed you to know or not. She’s understandably a little wary of telling people who she is.”

“Oh, Riley,” my mom says, sitting beside my dad, “you know we wouldn’t have treated her any differently. But I understand.”

“I know you wouldn’t have. But still, I left it up to her to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Well, besides the near heart attack I had when she said her mother was Isabelle Jordan. But truly, she was absolutely lovely,” says Mom.

I laugh, grabbing a seat at the table and loading some pancakes onto my plate. I’m not surprised that they made a whole feast while I was busy dropping Willow off.

“Sorry about the shock. I’m impressed you recognized her, though.”

“She’s the spitting image of Isabelle. Anyone who read tabloids in the nineties would have noticed.”

“You’re very astute, honey,” Dad says, kissing her on the cheek.

“So, you’re not having sex, are you?” my mom asks me suddenly. I almost choke on my pancakes.

“No, we’re not. Gross, Mom.”

“Did you just call Willow Jordan gross ?”

“ No , I called you prying into my sex life gross.”

“Good, I was about to get your eyes checked,” Mom replies. Dad is staying tactfully quiet throughout this exchange. “So, why aren’t you having sex? You two sure seemed all over each other…”

She gives my dad a knowing look. I roll my eyes. They must have been talking about us before I walked in.

I shrug, taking another bite.“She’s not interested in me.”

“I think she is,” Mom counters. “The way she looks at you…that’s how I looked at your dad. ”

“ Looked ? Past tense?” My dad quirks the corner of his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you still look at me like that. In fact, you had that look last night when I was?—”

“ Ew, guys, stop.” I scrunch my face in disgust. “I’m trying to eat here.”

My mom cackles. “Riley, don’t be such a prude. She likes you. I think you should go for it.”

“I’ve tried…well, not anything big, but I’ve made little moves. She pushes me away half the time, and the other half she clarifies that we’re just friends…repeatedly. So I’m taking that as a pretty big hint that she’s not interested.”

“It sounds like she’s trying to remind herself of that more than she’s trying to remind you.”

I sigh, getting up from the table. “Don’t give me false hope, Ma.”

“Where are you off to?” she asks.

“I’m going on a long, long ride to erase this entire conversation from my memory. See you later,” I say as I slip out the back door.

Minutes later, Lucky and I trot toward the mountain trail I took Willow on, the same trail I first learned to ride on years ago. I didn’t even bother to put a saddle on her today, which Lucky seems thrilled by. She’s a good sport with saddles, but she really prefers to go without one.

“I’ve missed you, Lucky,” I tell the horse as if she can understand. To her credit, she swishes her tail behind us as if she missed me too. “It’s weird being on tour. I mean, singing my songs every night is amazing. And literally every venue has been sold out. I’m living every kid’s dream. I’m living my dream. But it's just a little…I don’t know. It’s lonelier than I thought it would be. I don’t know why I’m complaining.

“I have great friends, tons of fans, and an incredible career. But I miss this. I miss you, I miss the mountains, I miss the general store, I m iss the accents, but most of all, I miss the people.”

I take in a deep breath of the forest air that I woke up thinking about while on tour.

We veer off the trail, sneaking down a back entrance to the giant apple orchard a few miles from my house. Lucky speeds up until we’re galloping through the rows and rows of trees, just like we used to do when I was in high school. I throw my head back and laugh, stretching my arms out between the giant trunks while riding bareback, maybe just to prove to myself that I can still do it. I missed this.

Eventually, we slow down and head back toward the trail. I hop off and stretch my legs, giving Lucky a chance to take a drink of water from a stream. I lean against a tree, admiring the way the dappled light makes her chestnut coat glow.

For some reason, that horse has a crazy affinity for stream water. As if she can read my mind, she makes a snort of approval as she drinks and I laugh, snapping a photo of her.

“I really like her,” I muse, my mind wandering to the joy written on Willow’s face yesterday when we were riding. “And a small part of me dares to think that maybe there’s a tiny possibility that she might like me back. I mean, she did ask me to kiss her…she was so upset, though. Maybe she would have asked anyone.” I pause. “But that kiss. It was so good. But I don’t think she felt the same. But how could she not have felt that? What do you think, Lucky?”

No answer. I don’t know what I was expecting.

“Maybe her being busy is an excuse. I mean, the two of us will always be busy with the nature of our jobs. She was probably just letting me down easy. But, to be fair, she’s dealing with a lot of personal stuff right now, so I can definitely see that truly being an issue for her, right now specifically.” I sigh. “Or maybe I have false hope, and the truth is that she’s just not that intereste d in me. I’m not surprised that she isn’t. I mean, I’m sure the girl is used to dating billionaires, models, A-List actors, and all-around high-class guys. That’s not me. We’re not very evenly matched. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing.”

Snapping me out of it, Lucky lifts her neck from the stream and gives her mane a shake.

“Ready to go?” I ask. To my surprise, she walks over and gently drops her head onto my shoulder, melting my heart. She stays there for a few seconds before she chuffs and walks away, giving me a look over her shoulder that says, If you tell anyone I missed you, I’ll kill you.

I chuckle. “I missed you too, Lucky.”