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

advice settles over me, sounding right. “How’d you get to be so smart about relationships when you’ve never been in a serious one?” I tease, finally feeling like there might be something to laugh about in all of this.

“My parents are pretty good examples, and I’m smarter than you give me credit for. I know shit,” he brags.

“I never doubted that,” I tell him earnestly, “but you might’ve just proven yourself a bit smarter than I thought.” I hold up my thumb and finger a skinny inch apart. “Does that make me the pretty one now?” I joke.

“Definitely not,” River deadpans. “Look at this.” He draws his hands down his body over his workout clothes. “And look at you.” He scans me from head to toe. I look rough, I know I do. Hair a mess from my fingers, eyes red from tears, and the clothes I wore on my walk with Riley wrinkled worse than if they’d been in the bottom of the laundry hamper.

“All right, so I’m still the smart one. Or at least I will be after I fix this.”

“You’d better,” he tells me sharply, pointing a finger at me.

Breaking the threatening pose, he heads to the kitchen, helping himself to a beer from the fridge. “Though I’m glad I didn’t have to beat the shit out of you tonight. Before Riley called, I’d just hit a new PR on overhead press. My arms are fucking toast.”

“Take that with you. I’m heading back over to Riley’s,” I tell him.

He takes a long drag of the bottle he’s already opened. “Nope. You need to give her a minute to calm down and think. For being all sunshine and shit, she goes nuclear when she detonates. Trust me, a long fuse means a bigger explosion,” he explains. “Me? I’m like little firecrackers going off all the time to keep an even keel.”

“Then at least get me one of those too,” I say, giving in.

I can’t run to Riley now, as much as I want to. But I’m going to fix this. Soon.

But for now, we sit down on the couch like two long-time friends to watch a game. It’s a repeat, but knowing our team wins is reassuring.

Chapter 25 Riley

“Let’s go, Little Miss Sunshine,” Arielle says wryly.

Eli swats at her arm and hisses, “Too soon. Look at her.”

I feel two pairs of eyes on me. They’re concerned but also judging me and the nest I’ve created on my couch. I’ve been here since Noah left.

I tried, I really did. But standing on the sidewalk, I’d felt exposed and broken, and not being able to rally, I’d run for home with Raffy at my side thinking it was some sort of game. I hadn’t made it far, falling to the couch and curling up to call River. He’d cut me off, nearly hanging up on me. I know he’s angry, but I can’t worry about that right now. So I’d called out an SOS to Arielle. And though the white couch is fresh and the yellow blanket is sunny, I am neither of those things.

“Think we can get her into a different outfit? Jeans and a T-shirt aren’t exactly the standard.”

I glare at Arielle. “I’m not changing clothes. I’m not going.”

“Like hell you’re not. Arielle put out the Bat signal and got everyone rallied on short notice. You always take care of us. It’s our turn to take care of you. What do you need?” Eli prompts.

“Chocolate cake, vodka, and a bath,” I answer drolly. I don’t think he expected me to have an answer, much less that one.

Arielle’s eyes narrow. I’ve seen this face before. It’s the one she uses on non-compliant patients when she’s about to steamroll over them and get her way. “I can make all three of those happen, but first, you’re coming out with us. You need it.”

Eli moves to stand at Arielle’s shoulder, presenting a united front. He talks to Arielle as if I’m not sitting right here in front of them. “Flip flops would be easiest.”

“On it,” Arielle answers, and then she disappears down the hall. A moment later, she comes back with the pair of flip flops I wear when I go to get pedicures.

“Ready?” Eli asks . . . Arielle again, not me. She nods, and I shake my head, even though this conversation apparently doesn’t involve me.

Eli charges me, dropping his shoulder to my middle and scooping me up from the couch to toss me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I guess his workouts are helping after all because he heads for the door with ease.

“No! Eli! Put me down!” I yell, kicking my bare feet.

Arielle uses my own flip-flop to spank my ass. “Hush. You’ll thank us later. And everyone’s already waiting, so we don’t have time to prod your whiny ass into action.”

“Waiting where? I don’t want to go to McGillicutty’s,” I argue. Truthfully, I don’t want to go anywhere, except maybe to bed to sleep off this headache I have from crying.

Eli carries me to the curb and tosses me in the passenger seat of his car unceremoniously. “Don’t tell her. It’ll be like a fun surprise,” he conspires with Arielle as he buckles my seatbelt.

He closes the door on me, both him and Arielle going around to the driver’s side. He opens the back door for Arielle like a gentleman, which pisses me off for no good reason. And then Eli gets in and starts the car.

“I kinda hate you right now. You know that, right?” I ask him snottily. Like actual snot, not like I’m being bitchy. I do wonder if that might have a better effect because Eli is immune to my grossness.

“It’s a thin line between love and hate,” he tells me, though he glances in the rearview mirror. Ugh, I wish they’d get things straightened out between them. They deserve to be happy, even if I never get the chance to be.

Eli drives to the place it all began . . . Briar Rose