The Blind Date Landish, Lauren (read a book TXT) 📖

thought you’d see me as less of the Riley Sunshine you expect and everything we’ve built together would disintegrate. Selfishly, I didn’t want that to happen, and so I wasn’t the me I should’ve been. I said something stupid and hurtful, and I’m sorry for that. To all my Sunshiners, I am sorry. To the people I insulted, I’m sorry.”

It won’t be enough for some people, no matter what. But a heartfelt apology is all I can offer right now. I have to hope that momentary words plus future actions that show how much I mean it will be enough.

“Someone wise told me that you need some rain to appreciate the sunshine. I guess I thought if I could pretend there was no rain and focus on only the positive, I’d be better off. But I think they were right. So I’m going to celebrate the rain too, jump in the puddles, let it run over me in rivulets that make me look and feel like a drowned rat, and live through it. Because it’ll make the sunshine feel that much better. I promise that I will do my best to be honest, real, and authentic with you. I’m going to share the great, the good, and the bad.”

“So, what now?” I ask them and myself. “I’m going to keep doing my job—sharing my life with you and hoping that we can share a little sunshine with the world. But first, I have some apologizing to do. I’m new at relationships—like, Moonlight Mark is the first guy I’ve ever loved sort of new—so I’m gonna mess up. But I’m going to learn and do better. He deserves that, and you know what? I do too.”

I shrug, plunging ahead. “And so do you. Learn something today—about yourself, about someone else, or about . . . I don’t know, weird animal facts or whatever interests you. Maybe it’s even this video, learning something about me, that I’m a real person who has a positive outlook but struggles too. I’d love to learn about you, too, the real you, if you’ll keep sharing with me.”

I give the camera another Sunshine Salute and smile, then click off, and I quickly upload it with the simple caption of A message to all my Sunshiners. Love, Riley.

Now I just have one more thing I need to do . . . have that conversation with Noah.

Raffy barks, and I realize I do have other things to do. Like take my doggy for a walk so he can pee.

Chapter 27 Noah

N: I’m on my way over. Can we talk?

R: Yes! See you soon.

It was all I could do to not pour my heart out in the text I sent Riley today. It’s easier when it’s words on a screen somehow. But I don’t want or need easy. I want Riley.

I know she’s had a shitty twenty-four hours—from our fight to what Arielle tells me was a rough karaoke outing, to the gossipy social media stuff. I hate that I haven’t been by her side to help deal with it. Not that she needed me. She made that video post like the badass she is, sunshine and all. But I still want to support her.

And apologize. Because none of this ever would’ve happened if I’d had a regular conversation with Riley about the opportunity of a BlindDate sponsorship and reacted better when she said no. Those are my responsibilities in this argument. Riley has her own, and I hope she’s ready to talk about those too.

Sunshine. Moonlight.

She’s the brightness that’s burst through my chronic asshole-itis.

But she could reject me and my apology, decide I’m not worth the energy and effort if all I’m going to do is walk away.

No. Stop, I tell myself.

Those are not my feelings for Riley talking. Those are my fears from my childhood whispering in my mind, and I need to get beyond them if I’m going to be the man Riley deserves. So I take a deep breath and knock on her door, a little smile coming to my lips when I hear Raffy start barking.

“Raffy, hush!” Riley says on the other side of the door. “I got this!”

Raffy runs away, his nails sounding further and further away, and I wonder if Riley tossed him a snack to give her the space to open up. Probably. Food bribes work best with him.

The door opens, and my heart stops in my chest.

She’s so beautiful. So mine. I refuse to accept any other ending to this conversation.

Riley is wearing a blue dress that flares around her mid-thigh, her knee-high yellow socks, and yes, her white Doc Martens boots. There’s nothing about her outfit that says ‘usual’ or ‘standard’, and I suspect some people might even find it costume like. To me, it screams ‘Riley’ and all the things that make her uniquely who she is, and that’s what makes it so perfect on her.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her, my hands itching to hold her and my mouth watering to taste her. It hasn’t been long by way of a clock, but so much has happened, I feel like I’ve missed her with every cell in my body.

“Noah . . .” The longing is laced through the breathiness as she says my name. I think she’s missed me too, maybe even been just as paralyzed by fear as I’ve been. “Thank you. Come in.”

She holds the door wider, letting me pass her and enter into the living room.

“Do you want something to drink? I have . . . uhm, water or wine or . . .” Her words trail off like she doesn’t know what’s in her own refrigerator.

“You don’t have to play hostess.”

A tiny smile ghosts across her lips as she ducks her gaze to the floor. “I’m nervous,” she admits.

“Me too.” My own confession brings her eyes to mine. “Let’s sit down and talk. I think we both have a lot to say.”

We sit on the couch, a chasm yawning wide in the small foot of space between us.

“I’m sorry,” Riley blurts out, surprising me.

I planned to