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“What happened with you and Archer?” Zane asked.
And they were back to that. Riley’s neck tensed until it ached in her skull.
The Archer thing wasn’t really a big deal. So why was she making it one? “Why do you think it was anything different than any other time?”
“Probably because you said this time was different. Also, because you won’t give me a direct answer.”
Riley fiddled with the locket hanging around her neck, tracing her thumb over the Friends Forever etched on the back. Zane wouldn’t make fun of her if she told him. But she still questioned whether she’d done the right thing. “It maybe, possibly, didn’t end on the best of notes.”
“I got that much. What did he do?”
“He proposed.”
“Proposed... a threesome? New bathroom towels?”
Seconds ticked away. She stared back. Please get it. And please don’t think I was stupid about it. A sharp chill whipped through the afternoon, and she shivered and pulled her arms tight around herself. The April sun in Salt Lake City might be nice, but the moment it dipped behind the mountains, the cold sank in. At the drive-thru, someone’s fan belt squealed. Children’s voices carried from an open car window.
Zane’s eyes grew wide. “Like down on one knee?” At least he didn’t look disappointed—that was something to be grateful for—but she hoped for some kind of sign he wasn’t going to hold it against her for walking away from something like that.
“Candlelit dinner, champagne—the works.”
“And?”
“And I turned him down, and we decided maybe it was time we went our separate ways.”
“I’m... sorry it didn’t work out?”
That lacked sincerity. Relief trickled inside Riley. “No, you’re not.”
“I’m sorry it has you on edge. I wish I knew what the big deal was.”
She twisted her mouth in frustration. Not with him, but with herself. “Everyone already thinks I’m a flake who can’t maintain a solid relationship. Like... everyone. My sister. You—”
“I don’t think that.” He rested a hand on hers.
Warmth spread through her at the gentle touch. “Right. All this what happened now and something always happens stuff, and you don’t think I’m a flake.”
He dropped her hand but didn’t pull back. “That’s not about you. It’s about Archer. The two of you aren’t the same people around each other.”
She ducked her head, guilt adding to her lingering doubt. She didn’t want to be the wedge in his friendship with Archer. Why couldn’t she take Zane’s explanation at face-value? “It’s just that I had someone stable, with a good job, who didn’t expect me to buy his weed or ask me if I wanted to do my twin sister while he watched, and what did I do? Told him no and walked away. Destroyed everything. Maybe my only chance at something good.”
Zane clenched his hands into fists, his jaw growing tighter with each word she said.
Please don’t let him close off again.
“I bet he didn’t even get you the right ring.” A smile broke through his shifting expressions.
She paused, brain wrapping itself around the words. Was he really talking about...? There was no way he remembered that. “It had a diamond on it. Solitaire, pretty, princess cut. You know, every girl’s dream ring.”
“Except yours.”
It had been over a decade, and Zane still remembered. The realization warmed her. They’d been at the mall, and they passed a jeweler. She pointed out an engagement setting in the window and said, if she ever got married, she wanted something just like that. Low profile, so it didn’t snag on anything, but brilliant and unique. She’d never seen anything like it before or since.
Back then, Zane made a face, said he didn’t understand why girls spent so much time thinking about things like that, and then tugged her toward the food court.
“No. He didn’t get me the right ring.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Did you love Archer? Do you love him?”
She’d lost count of the number of times she asked herself that question, and she didn’t know the answer. “He’s a good guy.”
Except for every habit he had that drove them apart. And those she had, which he hated. And that no matter how many times she tried to talk to him about it, he’d been boring in bed. And he thought her art was a waste of time. And... And... And...
But he’d never hit her or asked her for money. And he would have taken care of her.
Zane tugged at her fingers to draw her attention. “It doesn’t mean the two of you belong together. Do you love him?”
It wasn’t as if she knew what love really was. What if she did love Archer and was too dense to recognize it? “You’re the only other guy I’ve ever met who’s that considerate and fun. Okay, you’re a billion times more those things, but you’re also not the one who proposed.”
“You’re avoiding my question. If you prefer, if those are your only qualifiers for what makes marriage material, and supposedly I have them in spades, would you say yes simply because I asked?”
Her breath caught. Would she? The thought of Zane down on one knee, or even better, of her spending the rest of her life with him made her pulse race.
No. Romance ruined friendships. “No. I don’t love him.”
“So you made the right choice.” He caressed her knuckles with his thumb.
She smiled, the reassurance not chasing away her misgivings, but making it easier to believe she’d been right to walk away.
“You didn’t answer my other question.” He smirked and slid from his seat to come around to her side of the table. He dropped to one knee next to her and took her hand in his.
What’s he doing? He’s teasing me, right? Blood rushed in her ears, making it hard to hear. They’d been catching up for all of half an hour, and he was talking about love and marriage?
“Riley Ann Carter”—he locked his gaze on hers—“we’ve known each other forever.”
Oh God, he’s really doing this.
“You’re the sexiest, most intelligent woman I’ve ever met.”
Riley’s heart stopped. He twitched. The corner of his mouth pulled up for the briefest moment.
He continued. “With your sister being a close second.”
Her stomach plummeted. He was yanking her chain. Trying to distract her.
“Would you”—his serious expression faltered again—“and she make out, while I watch?”
Was that really relief flooding her or just the tiniest bit of hurt and disappointment? She smacked him on the arm. “You’re an ass.”
He sat on the bench next to her, his leg brushing her knee. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“You’re not sorry.”
“Promise me something?”
“What?”
“I meant what I said, except that last bit. You’re the smartest, most fun and brilliant person I know. Promise me, regardless of how many guys come and go, you won’t marry one unless he deserves you—the amazing you—and that you’ll never beat yourself up for turning someone down.” He lifted her face with a finger under her chin. “Say it. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Want to get out of here?” Zane stood and offered her a hand up.
She shivered when another gust of wind rushed past her. Some place warmer might not be a bad idea. “Dinner?”
“I’m in. Where to?”
She let him pull her to her feet and landed closer to him than she intended to. The bite in the air stole her breath, and she let her attention linger on the heat of his grip. “You pick.”
“I’m fine with whatever.” The intensity of his gaze drilled into her in the most delicious way.
Her thoughts fuzzed, and all she could make sense of was the fading sunlight and the stillness around them. She didn’t pull away, settling a hand on his chest instead.
His heart hammered under her palm. Maybe she needed to get back to the elephant in the coffee shop parking lot... “About what happened while you were gone.”
“Which what?” His question was low and throaty.
Tingles rose under her skin from the way her body molded to his sturdy frame. “The flirting. The dirty talk. The long-distance mutual masturbation.”
“What about it?” He placed his hand against the small of her back, holding her tight.
Heat flooded her, chasing away the chill in her legs. “Was it a mistake?”
“Do you think it was?”
No. God, no. That was what she wanted to say. What she’d wanted him to say.
She swallowed the response. As enticing as the thought of continuing things in person was, something ran underneath, tempering her desire. “It was fun, but we were both heartbroken and lonely. Besides, in person is a different story.” Understatement of the century.
He dropped his arm from around her waist and stepped back. His shoulders relaxed, but the corners of his mouth tugged down. “It’s true.”
“I told you things I’ve never told anyone.” She hadn’t meant to admit that. “But having the expectation out there—”
“Exactly.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It puts up a wall we don’t want.”
The conversation was rapidly deteriorating into a wall of its own. “So we’re still friends, what was in the past is in the past, and we can move on?”
“No assumptions, no expectations. We don’t have that kind of physical relationship.”
The tension evaporated from her neck. “I appreciate that.”
“Besides”—he relaxed—“I’d rather be friend-zoned than what you did to Archer.”
Friend-zoned. She hated that phrase. It implied she owed someone sex because she was nice to them. “What happened to it not being my fault?”
He shrugged, his smile wilting. “I’m not saying you were wrong to turn him down; I completely agree. But you know... on again, off again. Giving him hope, when you know you don’t love him.”
She clenched her jaw. “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have given us another try. You know me better than that.”
She thought he did, anyway. The reason she flitted from guy to guy was because she was looking for that special something. Love was such an elusive thing, she didn’t want to miss out because she refused to look.
Zane crossed his arms. “It never works out. You destroyed that friendship a long time ago, and you keep trying with him. When you and Archer are together, he’s this controlling, possessive jackass, and you keep going back to him anyway. It doesn’t bother me that you’re looking for something special, but you keep investing so much in these fucking losers. They’re not right for you—it’s obvious—and you still dive into it. It always ends with both of you miserable, and it wouldn’t have to be that way if you recognized it from the start.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t realize you thought so little of me. So... what? This friendship is your version of pity for the girl who can’t make up her mind because she’s delusional about finding her Prince Charming? Or maybe you’d prefer I ran my choices by you first.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying you’re too good for these guys. The same way I tell you every time you end up with another doorknob.”
“Really?” She couldn’t keep the hurt coursing through her from leaking into her reply. “Because it sounded like you were accusing me of being a heartless devourer of souls.”
“You’re being melodramatic.”
“You’re being a jerk.” This was all wrong. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Six years apart, and they’d kept in touch... until two years ago. They’d remained friends while he had a psychotic fiancée. Now they’d been back together for less than an hour, and it was tearing them apart.
“Riley.” He reached for her, but she pulled away. His frown deepened. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Drop it. Don’t make this worse.”
“Please?” He grabbed her hand, holding her fingers between his. “You’re this amazing, beautiful soul, and I get it—you see good in people who don’t deserve it. It gets painful to watch sometimes.”
That’s what she got for dissecting her relationships with him online. A tiny voice whispered she was overreacting, and most of her agreed. That didn’t stop Zane’s words from digging deep, echoing with her own fears and insecurities. She swallowed it all, leaving a lingering bitter taste in her mouth. “I don’t mean to do that to you. Dinner?”
“Yeah. All right.”
The foot between them as they walked to his truck felt wider than the thousands of miles that had been there a week ago. Riley wanted to see this from his perspective. Most of her failed relationships were meh at best, but she wouldn’t have known that if she’d walked away without giving them a chance.
Zane, though. If they could get past whatever this was, things could go back to right. She wouldn’t let her mistakes bleed over into their friendship.