8. Maddison

Maddison

T he inside of River’s car smells like his cologne. I wasn’t aware of how much I liked his cologne until now. I keep breathing it in, and it makes me feel lighter.

“So … I looked up a few taco places we can go to,” I tell River as he steers the car down the main road that weaves through the heart of the glittering city sparkling against the sky. Traffic is thick, so we’re at a stop-and-go point. River has the heat on, and music is softly playing from the stereo. I feel calm around him, and it’s strange. I rarely feel calm around anyone.

“I have a place picked out.” He has one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other on the shifter. “I searched around and found one at a park not too far away from the lake. It has high ratings.” He flicks me a glance. “If that’s okay with you.”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I nod. Is it weird that I think it’s sweet he did this all beforehand? I’m so used to taking care of myself that it’s nice not having to worry about stuff. For a while, anyway.

River is taking me out tonight because he wants to talk about stuff. What those things are, I don’t have a clue. It makes me mildly nervous, but it’s in my nature to assume the worst.

“You planned out tonight?” I question as I rotate in the seat to face him.

He drums his fingers on top of the steering wheel. “Yeah, I told you I was taking you out, so why wouldn’t I?”

I prop my elbow on the back of the seat and rest my cheek against my hand. “I don’t know … I guess if I were going out with anyone from my old life, we’d have probably ended up wandering around until we got bored and went to a party. It’s sweet you picked out a place.”

He throws me a look. “You’re the only person who’s ever called me sweet.”

I teasingly smile. “Have you ever been sweet to another person?”

“I’m nice to Lily,” he says with a shrug. “And sometimes Finn, when he’s not getting on my nerves. I used to be nice to Noah, but …” He trails off.

I consider my next words carefully. “Have you ever thought about forgiving him?”

His brows crease, and the muscles in his jaw pulsate. “His mother cheating with my father destroyed my mother. She had to check into rehab for a few months afterward, and she’s still not the same.”

“I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to watch your parents break apart.” I give a short pause. “But even if Noah told you about the affair, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Plus, he kind of was in a tough spot, too. I mean, it’s his mom, so he probably felt like he was betraying her if he told you guys.” When River stares at me perplexedly, I add, “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do—your feelings are your feelings. However, as someone who doesn’t have a lot of people in her life, I think … I don’t know, I just feel like maybe you should talk to him. Like have a real conversation.”

The lights reflect in his eyes as he studies me. “You’ve talked to him a couple of times … What did you guys talk about?”

I’m not about to tell him what Noah’s been up to—it’s not my story to tell. Plus, I don’t even know the entire story. Noah may have warned me to be honest with River, but I’m not about to tattle on Noah, either. I can be evasive without lying.

“I helped him out with something,” I explain vaguely. “I don’t feel like it’s my place to tell you about what, though. If you talk to him, though maybe he’ll tell you. That is, if you’re nice to him like you are to me.”

He narrows his eyes, and I worry he’s annoyed with me. But then he says, “For as tough as you are, you’re also sweet.”

“Hey,” I protest with a crinkle of my nose. “I am not. Trust me; I’ve gotten into my fair share of fights.”

“Oh, I believe it,” he assures me with a ghost of a grin. Then he grows serious again. “But you have a good heart, Maddison.”

The way he calls me Maddison causes my stomach to flutter like an idiot. I rarely react to guys this way, and it worries me, not just because I’ve vowed not to date anyone, but River is a royal. And he keeps making me feel things I’m uncertain what to do with.

“It’s not an insult.” He reaches over and brushes his fingers across my hand that’s resting on my leg. “I promise.” He smiles then returns his hand back to the shifter.

It was just a soft caress. Nothing more. And yet, I feel like I can’t get oxygen into my lungs, which is saying a lot since my lungs are in top shape.

I let a slow breath ease from my lips before speaking. “All right, no more compliments for now. You’re making me all lightheaded.”

His chuckle is laced with confusion. “You’re also really weird.”

“That is very true,” I agree, pointing my finger at him.

He smiles, and I grin, relieved we’re going back to normalcy. At least, I pretend that everything is normal. The truth is that River has got me all worked up in a confused knot that I have no clue how to untie.

And I’m not even sure that I want to.

Once we leave the city, it takes us about ten minutes to arrive at the park. I’ll admit, as the city lights dimmed, I grow a bit anxious that Drew could be lurking out in the shadows. I don’t know why he would be. It’s not like there’s any way he could know I’m in this car unless he was hiding in the bushes when we took off. But why would he wait until now?

Stop being so paranoid, Maddy.

River parks the car fairly close to the taco truck. Tables and chairs surround the area, and twinkling lights are dangling from the tree branches above. People are walking around on paths and also sitting at the tables, eating and chatting. No one’s face looks familiar—thank God—so the ball of tension in my chest slightly unwinds.

River silences the engine, pockets his key fob, and then shoves the door open. I reach for the door handle, but he quickly says, “Let me get the door for you, okay?”

I get this funny little smile on my face as I nod.

He releases a nervous breath before hopping out and shutting his door. Then he rounds the car and opens my door.

I’m trying not to grin, but this whole gentleman thing is amusing to me.

“Thanks,” I tell him as he closes the door.

He chuckles. “You say that with so much humor.”

I offer him an apologetic look. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m still struggling with this gentleman thing. Like I said, I’m not used to it.”

We start toward the taco truck, a light breeze and chatter filtering through the air.

“You should probably get used to it. Well, I mean, if we continue to hang out.” He fumbles over his words.

“Do you want to continue to hang out with me?”

“I do. You’re the realest person I’ve ever met.”

“Same for me about you. Although, I’m super curious what you need to talk to me about tonight.”

His gaze sweeps the area, and anxiety hums off of him. “At the lake. I don’t want to talk about it here.”

“Are you sure it’s not bad?” I ask guardedly while zipping up my jacket.

“It’s … weird,” he replies as we near the truck. “I actually don’t know how to label it.”

I wait for him to give me an idea of what it is, but he remains silent for a beat.

“Maddy,” he finally says in all seriousness, and I think, Oh, he decided to tell me . “I want you to do me a favor. And I know you’re not going to want to do it, but I really want you to do it.”

“You’re rambling,” I point out with my hands shoved in the pockets of my jacket.

“I know. I’m sorry.” The strands of his inky black hair dance in the breeze as he comes to a stop just short of where the tables are. He sucks in a deep breath and stares at the asphalt as he shifts his weight. “Will you please let me pay for dinner?”

That was so not what I was expecting him to say.

“No,” I start to protest.

He glances at me while stepping toward me. “I know you don’t want to take handouts, but this isn’t a handout. I’m taking you out, and it’s like the whole thing with me opening your door. It’s something I want to do because it’s how I was raised.”

“Paying for my food is more of a date thing,” I stress. “When friends go out, they pay for themselves.” Speaking of which, I need to see if I was right about him paying my bail. I’ll ask later, once he’s told me other things. Maybe once he opens up, I can get all the truths he’s been keeping from me out of him.

He swallows audibly. “Then this can be a date … I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

My heart slams against my chest. “You can’t just change the rules so you can pay for my food.”

“I’m not changing the rules. I just …” He sighs, shifting his weight and massaging the back of his neck. “Please just let me pay for you.”

Every one of my instincts is to say no, but then he reaches out and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I’m not even sure he means to do it since he jerkily pulls back, as if he’s surprised himself. Whatever the reason, I find myself dumbly nodding, confirming that I’m as big of a dumbass as other northside girls. Because I know better, and yet, here I am, falling into a royal guy’s world.

Shit .

He relaxes. “Thanks.” It almost looks like he’s about to touch my hair again, but then he hastily stuffs his hands into his pockets.

We start toward the taco truck again, quietness wrapping around us.

“So, tryouts are coming soon,” he says—thank God—breaking the awkwardness. “Are you nervous?”

“Truthfully, and I swear to God, if you tell anyone this, I will ruin you, gothic princess,” I pretend to scold, and he grins. “I kind of am. I’m not sure why, other than this feels like an entirely different league than what I’m used to. I’ve been looking at some of the PRs for people who were on the team last year, and holy crap, I’m getting worried.”

“You’ll do great. I know you will. Not just because you’re good, but because you have an amazing coach.” He grins, causing me to giggle.

“Way to stroke your ego,” I tease, nudging him with my shoulder. “But you are a great coach. Ruthless, but great.”

“How are your legs?” he wonders, pausing as someone comes to take our order.

He asks me what I want, and I make my order small, but with how much he ends up ordering, I feel like he’s gotten extra food, as if he caught on that I was keeping mine to a minimum because he’s paying.

Once he pays, we’re given a number and take a seat at an empty table.

I release a sigh as I plop down in the seat. “To answer your question from before, they were totally awful, but Finn helped me stretch them out.”

“When you guys had lunch today?”

“Yeah.”

He bobs his head up and down, and I get the impression he might be uncomfortable with Finn and me spending time together. I’m unsure why.

He fiddles with a napkin holder that’s on the table. “Did you do hill climbs at your high school?”

“Sort of. But never as intensely as we did today. I’m sure it’ll be for my benefit in the long run, because I know you know what you’re doing.”

“So, for tryouts—at least last year—they make you run both a mile, and then a 5k, and that one has a pretty intense hill, which is why I work hill climbs pretty intensely into the routine. When you get onto the team, it won’t be as bad. They just make tryouts intense to weed out people.”

“That makes sense.” I recline back in the chair, and it lets out a noise that makes me wonder if it’s about to break. “I’m a little nervous. I get that way sometimes. I even threw up once.”

His brows rise in surprise. “Really?”

I nod. “It’s not that uncommon.”

“I know, but you don’t seem like the nervous type.”

“I don’t frequently get nervous, but when I do, I hide it well.”

He scans me over. “You might be the toughest person I know.”

I rest my arms on the table. “You barely know me.”

“I know, but from what I’ve seen so far, you’re tough.” He contemplates something. “I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but was worried you might get upset, so if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but I feel like I should ask.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “That thing with Drew … what exactly is that about?”

I sigh heavily. “I had a feeling you were going to ask about that.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he quickly says. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”

He’s right. We have only known each other for a few weeks, and yet I feel like I can trust him more than anyone else that I’ve met.

“My father’s a drug dealer,” I confess softly, hoping no one else can overhear this conversation. “He got arrested a while ago, and to lessen his sentence, he told the police who his supplier was. And Drew works for the guy, so everything my father has done falls on me, thanks to daddy dearest telling them I’ll work off his debt in exchange for him getting left alone. So, yeah … there’s a bounty on me for that.” I’m staring at the table, worried about what expression he’ll be wearing. When I glance up, I can tell he’s shocked, but he does look freaked out, so that’s a plus.

“Jesus Christ, Maddy,” he finally speaks as he slumps back in the chair. “Your father is an asshole.”

“I guess we have that in common.”

“We really do. But this … He’s putting your life at risk.” His gaze sears into mine. “What happens if Drew catches you?”

“They’ll force me to deal drugs for them.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. It is, but the normalcy of it is unsettling.

“How would they force you to do that?” he asks, his naivete about northside showing through.

“You’ve heard of human trafficking, right?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, but he nods, anyway. “Well, when people are trafficked, they get drugged up so they’re mostly out of it and can be controlled. Drew would likely do that to me because he won’t trust me. And for a good reason.”

Talking about this reminds me of all the shit waiting for me on the other side of Royal City.

“What would it take to get him to leave you alone?” River suddenly asks, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Nothing. My dad owes him big time so, until I’ve worked enough for Drew to deem his debt dissolved, he’ll basically owns me.” I have to take a breath before I enter panic mode. “He does already.”

“Yeah, but …” He hesitates. “He could be bought off.”

It suddenly clicks what he’s implying.

I promptly shake my head. “No way.”

“Just hear me out,” he starts but is interrupted as the waitress walks up to our table and sets down our food.

Once she leaves, I hastily tell River, “I’m not going to let you pay off my father’s debt.”

He picks up the taco and eyes it warily as a glob of meat falls out of it. “Why not? Money doesn’t mean anything to my family. We have a ton of it, to the point where it’s completely wasted on pointless shit. So, why not let me use it to take this bounty off of you.”

“Because I don’t want handouts.” I squirm at the discomfort of this conversation. “It makes me feel uncomfortable, like I’d be in debt to you, which is better than being in debt to Drew, but still makes me feel like crap.” I pick up one of my tacos and take a huge bite to distract myself from the buzzing anxiety in my veins.

“I don’t want to upset you, so I’ll let this drop for now. But please just think about it, okay? It really wouldn’t be a big deal, and I want to help you.”

I chew my taco while studying his sincere expression. It’s his sincerity that makes me nod, though I know there’s hardly any chance I’ll take him up on the offer.

That seems to satisfy him, and he smiles in return. “Good.” He starts to reach for a taco.

“Before we close up this subject, I need to ask you something.” I was going to wait until later, but since we’re on the subject. “Did you pay for my bail?”

He doesn’t even have to answer—his expression says it all.

“River.” I drop my taco and lower my head into my hands. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I felt so bad for you,” he answers honestly. “You were stuck in jail, and you just looked … Your eyes …” He summons a deep breath. “There was just something about the sadness in your eyes that I felt I could relate to. Like your helplessness … I feel that sometimes, and it's just … I wanted to help you. Please don’t make a big deal about it, because it wasn’t.”

Any anger I felt reduces. I think, at the core of River, he’s just a guy who likes to help people.

“I’m going to pay you back,” I swear as I lift my head and look at him. “I don’t care if it takes me a decade.”

“You don’t have to,” he states.

“I know I don’t for your sake. But, for mine, I do.” I pick up a taco.

He wavers, eyeing me closely. “All right.” Then his eyes drop to the taco. “So, is this really good? Because mine’s leaking.”

I giggle as I reach for a napkin. “Just try it. I promise it’s good. In fact, the leakier it is, the better.”

He arches his brow dubiously, and then I watch as he stuffs part of it into his mouth. He chews it for a moment.

“Well, how is it?” I ask as I clean the grease off my fingers.

“Good,” he says around a mouthful. “Like, really good.”

I collect another taco. “See? Not everything has to be expensive to be good.”

He carries my gaze. “Trust me; I know.”

I have a feeling he’s not talking about the food, and my stomach swoops a bit.

I internally grimace, knowing I’m getting further and further into a mess but not seeming to care enough to stop myself.

Story of my damn life.