Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Riley

The ride back home was much quieter, probably due to the fact we were both more than spent.

Figuratively and physically.

I had meant what I said to Eric. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten so drunk, or the last time I’d really let my walls down.

Which was most likely thanks to the alcohol.

I knew I should feel ashamed, guilty even, because I’d let myself have a little too much fun, and not only that... the liquid courage was more than to thank for my bold pursuance. For bringing Eric to bed.

But somehow, even though I knew I should be bothered by such things, I wasn’t. In fact, I felt like we had turned a corner of sorts.

I had turned a corner of sorts.

For the first time in my life, I felt well and truly free. Like the sky was the limit.

Eric sipped his coffee as we pulled into his driveway, turning the car off. I immediately climbed out, going around to open his door before he could. Seeing the smirk on his face every time gave me a sense of satisfaction. I got the feeling it was hard for Eric to let someone else do things for him, probably because whatever it was he did—which we still hadn’t confirmed he wasn’t some mafia kingpin, though it was highly unlikely—he was probably the guy in charge, calling the shots. Which only made me like him more.

Just the very thought of him commanding me, like he had in our inebriated haze...

Fuck.

My cock stiffened as the memories tried to push forth, but I didn’t want to walk down memory lane right now, no matter how nice it was.

I walked him leisurely up his sidewalk, the sun shining brighter than I’d ever noticed before. Eric’s shoulders rose and then sunk as he slid his keys out of his pocket, as if he’d let out a huge sigh, though I didn’t hear anything. He stood quietly, his lips pursed.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think something was wrong, or perhaps maybe I did something to sour his mood, but I knew from the way I felt—hungover and every bit my age—that he was likely feeling just as under the weather.

His gaze shot up to me, his voice tired. “Thanks for the breakfast, and the ride,” he said firmly, though his tone seemed a bit off.

I wasn’t too worried, though. Maybe like me, he just needed a couple Advil and a Netflix marathon.

I watched as he turned to open his door, and I couldn’t help myself as I stopped him, setting my hand on his wrist.

“Are you busy later? Maybe we could hang out? Grab some dinner, or?—”

Eric’s shoulders rose and sunk once more, and he dropped his hand, his bright blue eyes looking almost glassy.

“I... I can’t. I, uh, have plans this evening.”

“Oh,” I said, not at all hiding the disappointment in my voice.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just... I have a lot to do on Saturdays, usually,” he said, looking away.

“Catching up on stuff after the work week?” I said, sliding my hands in my pockets as I gave him a soft smile.

“Something like that,” he said, his eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I took a step forward and he did not move back.

“When can I see you again?” I asked, my voice much huskier than I meant it to be.

Eric looked up at me like a lost puppy, eyes full of hope and wonder.

A part of me knew I was probably coming on too strong, but the rest of me didn’t care.

In Eric’s presence, I was bold, and unapologetic, and it felt good to be honest, to put myself out there.

“Tomorrow,” he said, swallowing hurriedly. “I can meet you tomorrow, at the cafe?” His voice was somewhat soft, barely a whisper.

I smiled with a nod. “That sounds great,” I said.

“Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said as he turned from me, opening his door.

I waved to him softly with a smile on my face. Though a part of me wished he would invite me in, I knew it was probably best that I get home myself and catch up on things. Starting with getting out of these tight ass pants and getting into my sweats and recuperating from my night out on the town.

But stupidly enough, the entire way home, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Because I felt like for the first time, I was on cloud nine, and I realized that I didn’t just like Eric and his sexy smirk, I didn’t just want to hang out with him.

I was falling in love with him.

Suddenly, I was looking forward to my time off. Looking forward to spending time with him, just letting my guard down and having fun.

Not to mention I can barely keep my hands off of him, and who could blame me?

The man is like the literal embodiment of sex appeal.

He was perfect, and I knew at that moment, I’d made my decision. Tomorrow, at the cafe, I’d gather my bravery and be honest. I’d tell him how I felt. Because I didn’t want to lie or hide my true feelings anymore.

I wanted to be with Eric, and the first step was admitting the truth to him. I hoped he would reciprocate. I hoped he’d say yes, to being mine.

My boyfriend.

When I finally made it into my house, exhaustion hit. I pulled off my clothes, seeking the comfort of my lounge wear and the soft cushions of my couch, and I slept.

I slept better than I’d slept in a long time, and I knew it was because for the first time, I was happy. Nothing was going to ruin that