The Problem With Forever

“It’s okay,” he said.

I tried again, and this time he didn’t move or make a sound. “Are you going to tell me...what happened?”

A moment passed, and I glanced down at him. “This reminds me of old times,” he said, and his lashes lifted. As his gaze drifted over me, it was focused but all too brief, because he looked away, a muscle working along his jaw. “Kind of.”

A flush raced across my cheeks as I switched out the ball for a new one. He was right—this was like all the other times I’d cleaned him up. Well, when I was younger, I tried to clean him up, but had no idea what I was doing, but as we grew older, and he got into fights defending me or for some other reason, this was our routine.

Except I was pretty sure that when his gaze roamed over me just now, he’d checked out my breasts, and that was definitely something that hadn’t happened before. Back then I doubted he even realized that I had them.

Probably because they didn’t appear until about two years ago.

My thoughts whirled to the car in the parking lot and to what Keira had said the day before as I cleaned up the cut. Was this a result of the shady people he was hanging out with? Would he now have matching scars above both eyebrows? I didn’t like the idea of that. “Why haven’t you been in class?”

“I had some stuff to take care of.”

“That’s not an answer.” When he said nothing, I tried again. “Are you... Are you safe, Rider?”

He turned his cheek toward me, and I almost dabbed him in the eyeball. “That would’ve stung,” he murmured, catching my wrist. He plucked the ball out of my hand and tossed it on the coffee table. “I’m safe. I’m always safe.”

I shook my head. “All those times you put yourself—”

“Mouse...”

“You put yourself in danger for me. You did, over and over again.” Anger snapped at the heels of the concern welling in my chest. “You never really stopped to think about...what could happen to you.”

He tilted his head back, meeting my gaze. “I knew what I was doing.”

“You...” My throat thickened as memories rose like a vile, tainted wave. “You took beatings for me. You—”

“Mouse,” he said gently. “I knew what I was doing then and I know what I’m doing now.”

Was he basically telling me that he was now taking a beating for someone else? Without him saying any more, I knew it. I knew the bloody gash on his forehead wasn’t because of something he’d done, but something someone smaller, weaker had done. “Are you a masochist?”

He stared at me a moment and then he laughed—that deep laugh that made me shiver. “That’s a good question.”

“It’s not funny.” I started to pull my arm away, but he held on to my wrist. Our gazes held again, and words bubbled up my throat like champagne. “I don’t like seeing you hurt now any better than I did back then.”

“But I’m not hurt.” His voice was low. “See? You took care of me.”

There was a swelling feeling in my chest again, but this one was different. Sort of like a balloon being filled. “Is that why you came here?”

He didn’t respond immediately. “I don’t know. I think I just missed you. Like not seeing you all this time after...after being around you every day for, hell, for a decade, and then...then I lost you. But now you’re back.” He smoothed his other hand over the top of mine. “It doesn’t seem real. The odds of us ever crossing each other’s path again had to be stacked against us, but here we are.”

Here we are.

“So how long do I have before—what were their names? Carl and Rosa? Yeah, that’s them. How long do I have before they come back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe...maybe an hour or so?” My hands felt incredibly small in his.

That lopsided grin was back. “I doubt they’d be happy to find me here.”

“Why?”

His brows rose. “Maybe I’m wrong. They used to coming home to find some strange guy sitting on their couch?”

I rolled my eyes.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Rider tugged on my hands, and I rose, letting him pull me down to the couch beside him. He leaned back, sliding one arm around my shoulders and tucking me against his side. “Just par for the course with you, huh?”

I didn’t know what to do with my hands since he’d let go of them, so I folded them in my lap. “I’ve never had a...guy here.”

Rider stiffened and then he twisted his neck so he was looking at me.

Did I seriously admit that out loud? Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed. “I’m just...going to shut up now.”

He chuckled. “Don’t do that. I like listening to you talk.”

With our sides pressed together and his arm around my shoulders, it was like having one foot in the past and one in the present. Being this close now felt totally different than before. If only the TV had been on, I imagined we’d be following in the footsteps of couples all over the world, cuddled up as we were.

Except we weren’t a couple.

I really needed to get that thought out of my head. “You didn’t, um, miss much in class. We have to read examples of...informative speeches.”

“Sounds fun.”

Our gazes met briefly, and I looked away. “Where have you been, Rider?”

Rider was silent as he slid his hand up my arm. His fingers brushed over the bare skin of my shoulder as he curved his hand there. It seemed like such an unconscious move, but tiny bumps formed on my skin, chasing the caress. “Hector and I needed to talk to some people.”

My gaze shifted up to his again. “Does talking involve fists?”

A wry grin formed. “Sometimes.” He reached up, wiggling the knot of hair piled atop my head. “Hector’s brother...he’s young. Jayden’s just fifteen, but sometimes he seems even younger than that. You know, mentally, and he gets himself into some trouble.”

Staring up at him, I was struck again by the fact that some things didn’t change. Or maybe it was some traits in people. “So you’re helping him out of trouble?”

“Trying,” he murmured, resting his head against the back of the cushion. His eyes took on a hooded, lazy quality as he continued to mess with my hair. I had no idea what he was doing. “Anyway, we talked yesterday. Made sure Jayden got his ass to class today. The talking didn’t go as smoothly this evening.”

Oh my God, I wanted to hug him and punch him. “Rider—”

“Did you ever think we’d be sitting here?” he asked.

“You’re changing the subject,” I pointed out.

“I am.” He flashed a quick, impish grin. “But did you?”

“No,” I admitted, swallowing against the sudden lump in my throat. “I never thought...I’d see you again. I hoped that I would.”

“Hoping never really got us anywhere, did it?”

I shook my head. Growing up as we did, we learned real quick to get on a first-name basis with reality. Things like hope and aspirations had seemed like dreams and fantasies.

Rider’s fingers kept moving along the knot and before I knew it, he’d worked the bun loose. My hair fell past my shoulders, a tangled mess of waves. “I like it down,” he said, and the hollows of his cheeks pinked as he dropped his hand. His fingers grazed my upper arm. “Though I kind of miss the orange. Made it easy to pick you out in a crowd.”

“Thanks.”

He laughed. “Ah, I’m lying. Still easy to pick you out. A mile away,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Because I’m shorter...than everyone in a crowd,” I replied drily.

His gaze flickered over my face in that strange, concentrated way. “No, not that at all.” Casting his gaze to my hands, his brows lowered. “So how have your first three days at school been?”

Only three days? Felt longer than that. I raised a shoulder. “Okay.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

Lifting my gaze to his, I suddenly thought of Paige. I pulled away, putting space between us. How had I forgotten about her? I’d been caught off guard by Rider’s sudden appearance and the condition he’d been in, but that wasn’t a good enough excuse.

I glanced over at him, a hundred questions rising to the surface. One of them being why he’d come to me instead of Paige in the first place.

My heart started pounding. Part of me didn’t want to bring her up, because if he didn’t, then I could still... What? What could I still do? Even if we never talked about Paige, it didn’t change reality. And his having a girlfriend didn’t change what we were. Which was friends.

I drew in a deep breath. “You...you have a...girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Rider stared at me a moment and then he shook his head. “That kind of came out of nowhere.”

True. I didn’t let that deter me. “It’s...it’s the girl in our speech class.”

Rider stared at me a moment. “You’re talking about Paige. Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other.”

Folding my hands in my lap, I smiled nervously. “That’s...that’s good.”

He looked away, lips pursed. “We’ve known each other for a while. She’s known Hector since elementary school, so she’s always been around, you know?”

I really didn’t know, but I could imagine.

“And she’s pretty cool. Not uptight,” he said, and I wondered if he thought I was uptight. “I can...just chill with her, not really worry about anything. Anyway, we started dating last spring.” He stopped and looked over at me. “How did you know? Did she talk to you?”

Oh, man. I didn’t want him to know about the conversation from today. I closed my hands and told myself that none of this was any of my business. “No. I just... I saw the way you two were...um, together the first day of class.”

His brows rose. “What way was that?”

Looking away, I sort of wished I’d kept my mouth shut. “She was very...touchy with you.”

“Huh.” There was a pause. “I’m touchy with you and that doesn’t mean we’re seeing each other.”

Icy air hit the center of my chest as his words slammed into my consciousness. Whoa. He had a point, a very good point, and while I didn’t think he meant anything when he’d said that, that icy air burned nonetheless.

“I mean,” he said, knocking his shoulder into mine, “you and I have always been like that.”

“True,” I murmured, smiling again as I looked up at him.

Our eyes held for a few seconds and his narrowed. “She didn’t say anything to upset you, did she?”

“Why...why would you think that?”

One side of his lips kicked up. “She’s— Let’s just say Paige is a tough girl.”

The burn radiated out from my chest. Of course Rider would be into a tough girl. He was tough, and Paige had no problem putting me in my much deserved place today. If I’d been in her shoes, I would’ve sat there and said nothing.

“So she can be a little rough on people,” he finished.

I shrugged.

His gaze turned sharp as he focused on me. “Did she say something to you? I can talk to her. Make sure she knows how—”

“No.” I jerked, startled by myself. The word came out a little louder than I intended. I practically shouted it. “You don’t need to talk with her.”

A look of doubt crossed his features. “Mallory—”

“It’s okay.” Wiggling to the edge of the couch, I flicked one of the unused cotton balls across the table. “I mean...she didn’t say anything to me. You don’t have to say anything to her.”

I looked over my shoulder at him, meaning what I was saying. As much as I...as I loved that he retained that fierce protective streak, I couldn’t rely on him always being there to have my back. For the last four years, he hadn’t been there, and we couldn’t go back. I couldn’t allow it, no matter how easy it would be. “I don’t...I don’t want it like that.”

“How do you want it?” he asked and then raised his fingers to his brow, rubbing around the cut. His lips twisted in a harsh facade of a smile. “Don’t answer that.”

I wasn’t sure what that even meant. Confused, I stared at him, feeling like I’d missed something really important.

“I should get going. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” He scooted to the edge of the couch.

Before I could protest, which wouldn’t be wise even though I did want him to hang out longer, he placed his hands on my cheeks. My breath stalled out somewhere between my throat and chest. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against my forehead, dropping a kiss that squeezed my heart into slush. My eyes drifted shut as his lips lingered against my skin. Knocked off-kilter, I didn’t move when he pulled back and stood.

An eternity might have passed before I dragged my eyes open and found him staring down at me, his golden-brown eyes bright, his lips parted. I cleared my throat. “I can...give you a ride.”

His gaze dipped, and then he arched a brow. “No need. I got it taken care of.”

Pushing to my feet, I followed him out to the foyer. He reached for the door and then turned back to me. “I’m glad you opened the door.”

My smile felt wobbly. “I’m glad...you texted.”

Rider tilted his head to the side. “Yeah?”

I nodded, probably a little too eagerly, but as the dimple in his right cheek took shape, it was like being rewarded. Our eyes met for a moment, and I didn’t want him to leave. An urge took me like it had during lunch, and I all but bounced forward. Gripping his arms, I stretched up and kissed his cheek. It was pretty much just a peck, so I figured it wasn’t crossing any lines, but the feel of his skin under my lips was still unnerving and unexpected.

“Be careful,” I whispered, backing off.

Rider’s grin faded from his handsome face. A moment passed before he spoke. “Always, Mouse.”

Chapter 9

I tiptoed up the creaky stairs, wincing every time the boards groaned under my steps. I had to be quiet or Mr. Henry would catch me. That would be bad. Very bad.

I crept down the dark hallway. Miss Becky was sick again, in bed, but if I could get her up, she would help Rider. Inching the door open slowly, so that it didn’t make a sound, I glanced around the bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand was on, flooding the room with muted yellow light. Empty brown bottles littered the top of the dresser. The room smelled funny. Stagnant. I moved toward the bed, squeezing my hands closed. Miss Becky was lying atop it, but she didn’t look right. She looked like one of those mannequins in the stores, pale and still.

“Miss Becky,” I whispered, breaking a rule. I was never to wake her up, but Rider needed help. There was no movement on the bed. I crept closer. “Miss Becky?”

Frightened, I hesitated near the bed. The room blurred. Burning tears filled my eyes as I shifted my weight from my left foot to the right. I tried to say her name again, but there was no sound. The strap of her tank top was halfway down her arm and her chest didn’t seem to move.

I started to turn away, to go hide, because something was very wrong, but Rider was outside, and it was cold enough that my gloveless fingers had ached on the playground at school earlier. I lifted bony shoulders and rushed back to the bed. I reached out, grabbing Miss Becky’s arm. Her skin felt cold and...and plastic. I yanked my hands back and spun, running out of the room. Miss Becky... She wasn’t going to be able to help. It was up to me, and I wouldn’t let Rider down. I crept back down the steps and quietly edged past the moldy-smelling bathroom.

Mr. Henry shouted a bad word from the living room, causing my heart to jump, but I pressed on, reaching the back door. Stretching up, I unlocked the door, the sound cracking like thunder throughout the kitchen. I turned the doorknob.

“What in the hell are you doing, girl?”

I flinched, shrinking back as my body locked up. I prepared myself for fists as I opened my mouth. Screams ripped through the air, through the house and—

“Mallory! Wake up!” Hands clutched my shoulders, shaking me. “Wake up.”

Jerking upright, I yanked myself free as I scuttled across the bed. My right hand hit air. Balance thrown off, I teetered on the edge of the bed. The hand on my left arm tightened. Another scream built in my throat. My wild gaze darted around the brightly lit bedroom. The past slowly peeled back, like the stain of tar and smoke being washed away. No beer bottles. No newspaper-covered kitchen table. I stared into Carl’s dark eyes. Concern was etched on his weary face. His hair stuck up in every direction and his gray shirt was rumpled.

“Are you okay?” he demanded as I dragged in deep, uneven breaths. “God, Mallory, I haven’t heard you scream like that...”

In years.

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Hand shaking, I brushed hair back from my face as I swallowed. My throat was raw. I realized then that Rosa stood in the doorway, cinching the belt on her robe around her waist. She said something, but I couldn’t follow. In my chest, my heart was pounding fast.

“It’s okay.” Carl patted my arm as he looked over his shoulder, at the door. “It was just a nightmare, cariño. Go back to bed.”

How could it be just a nightmare? Nightmares weren’t real. This...this was.

* * *

Morning came too soon, and it was all I could do to drag myself through the day. When speech class rolled around, I headed into class and immediately made eye contact with Paige. Today her hair was smoothed back into one of those ballerina buns and she was wearing large gold hoop earrings. She looked amazing. However, the pinched set to her face when she spotted me was not amazing.

Dragging my left foot, I stumbled and the crack of my flip-flop sounded like thunder. I didn’t fall, but my hip bumped into an empty desk.

Paige’s lips twisted up at the corners as she raised a brow.

Horrified, I froze for half a second and then I snapped out of it. Hurrying to my seat, I sat down. My cheeks were scalding. The way she had been staring at me before I tripped like an idiot made me think that Rider might’ve said something to her like he’d offered to the night before.

He wouldn’t, I told myself as I opened my notebook and saw the notes I’d scribbled down the day before. Eyes narrowing, I couldn’t figure out what the one sentence I wrote actually meant and—

“Mouse.”

Air caught in my throat as I looked up. Rider had to be part ghost, because I hadn’t heard him take his seat beside me or say anything to Paige, but there he was. Wearing an old shirt with a faded emblem and with his arms crossed against his broad chest, he was the picture of lazy arrogance.

Seeing him after last night had me feeling weird in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t told Carl and Rosa about Rider coming by the house. Worse, I didn’t plan to.

Mouse.

Part of me hated that nickname, because of what it symbolized. The other half sort of loved it, because it was his nickname. I wasn’t sure which feeling outweighed the other.

My heart decided to do something funny in my chest. “Rider.”

His full lips curved up in a half grin, drawing my attention to his mouth. How could a guy have such perfect lips? It wasn’t fair. And why was I staring at his mouth? The blush turned my face into a breathing strawberry, and his grin spread, showing off the dimple. “Miss me?”

My hands flattened across my open notebook as my gaze darted toward Paige. She was looking at something Hector was showing her on his phone, but I couldn’t believe he asked that in front of her. Or maybe that wasn’t a big deal and I was making a big deal out of it?

I forced myself to shrug as I glanced up and saw that the gash above his left eye wasn’t as ugly as before. “How is your head?” I asked, voice low.

“Totally forgot about it.” His gaze briefly dipped. “How was your day?”

Something warm shifted inside me as I heard the distant clang of the warning bell. “I ate lunch with Keira today. Second day in a row,” I told him, then winced at how stupid that sounded.

Rider’s grin turned into a full smile, transforming his handsome face into the kind of masculine beauty that was like a punch to the chest. “That’s really good, Mallory.” His voice dropped as he reached over, curving his hand over my arm. There was a near electric rush from his touch. “I’m proud of you. For real.”

Giddiness surrounded my heart as I stared at his large hand, darker than my own. He knew how big that was, and I didn’t feel so idiotic. He got it. He got me. And that meant the entire universe to me.

A shadow fell between our desks. Hector was in the process of sitting down, and had stopped halfway, his head cocked to the side. His eyes were on Rider’s hand, and he looked like a chupacabra had just walked in front of him.

Rider drew back, folding his arms. “You okay, bro?”

Hector’s green eyes flicked to him. “Are you?”

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