Page 32 of Ride or Die

The shower started, and Riley shook off whatever spell he’d put her under. She got to work hunting for clothes that could possibly fit him and opened her dresser drawer. She jammed the clothes down so it would actually shut and almost caught her hand in the process.

She secured a giant t-shirt she normally slept in, but it was clean, and more importantly, not Andrew’s. Key points. The flowered pyjama pants she’d snagged were kind of stretchy, but she might have sweatpants somewhere in there that were more manly. The flower pants were worn but perfectly comfortable. What could he expect, really?

The lock jiggled, and the front door crashed open.

Riley froze.

“Honey! I’m home!” Kristi sang as the door hit the doorstop and rattled the wall. She swanned into the studio with a bottle of wine and bag of chips.

“Oh, fuck,” Riley swore as Kristi closed the door and slipped off her shoes.

“Not the reception I was hoping for, but I’ll take it.” Kristi clattered around the kitchen as she shrugged off her jacket. “Ready for vampires? We can order from that Vietnamese place later.”

Flower pants it is. Riley shoved the rest of her drawers closed and pulled the covers over her bed. She lifted a pillow off her floor with her foot and tossed it onto the duvet.

“I have questions.” Kristi cocked her head to the side as she took in Riley’s soaked clothes and then moved to the leather jacket and boots in their own puddle on the floor.

Riley tried to keep her hair from dripping on the clothes she held in front of her. What the hell was she going to do?

Kristi’s blonde hair was pulled back from her face, and her eyes narrowed as she looked around the apartment.

Grade A detective over here.

“Oh. My. God. You have someone over?” Kristi hissed, leaning forward and planting her hands on the counter. For a moment, something flickered in Kristi’s gaze that wasn’t the wicked delight that this sort of situation would usually prompt.

The look disappeared, but Riley couldn’t think about it right now. What if Saint thought she was inconsiderate for forgetting or she didn’t think the date was important—

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I forgot it was Saturday!” Riley shoved her hair off her face, and had to shake the drips off her hand. Kristi and Saint, in her apartment, at the same time? Fuck me.

Actually—no.

Kristi opened the chips and popped one in her mouth, resting a hip on the counter.

The shower shut off.

Crap, crap, crap.

Riley needed more time.

“It is Biker Boy? Or someone else?”

“K, you’ve got to go—”

“Nice try, babe—this is a momentous occasion.” Kristi threw another chip into her mouth and crunched. “And I have snacks.” Her pink hoodie said “Slay” with the glittery text dripping in blood. It sparkled as Kristi laughed.

Riley wanted to laugh with her so she didn’t cry.

The bathroom door handle twisted and opened. Oh god. Steam billowed and Saint stood in the doorway, fully naked except for the white towel that hung low on his waist.

Riley’s mouth fell open. He does have tattoos. A few dotted his chest, emblems and crests over lean muscle.

Saint assessed Kristi like he was checking her for weapons, face blank. Kristi didn’t move, staring back. The air smelled like floral body wash.

Muscles rippled under Saint’s olive-brown skin as he put something back on the counter. A smile spread as he took in their stunned expressions. He knows what he looks like.

Riley’s body pulsed, low and heavy.