More Than Enough (More Than Series, Book 5) (26 page)

“Who you calling old?” I ask, dribbling around her for another lay up.

She narrows her eyes at me, just for a moment before she pouts.

“Don’t think you can distract me with your hotness. That shit won’t fly on the court.”

The pout turns to a smirk as she makes her way over to me, taking the ball from my hands. She drops it to the ground, then stands on it, using my neck for leverage. “Next score wins?” she asks.

I roll my eyes.

Lucy shouts, “Use the girl card!”

“What girl card?” I ask.

She smirks. “No sex for a month.”

“Pshh. You can’t live without sex for a month.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Want to test me?”

I remove her arms from around my neck. “Nope.”

Her head throws back with her laugh. “I didn’t think so.”

She scores.

She wins.

I get guaranteed sex for the next month.

I
win.

I’d call that a win-win.

I sit back
down with the rest of the guys while Riley gets us drinks. “You let her walk all over you,” Cameron says.

Lucy glares at him.

He apologizes.

“Where does she hide that whip she’s constantly beating you with?” I ask him.

“In her magical pussy,” he says, earning him a slap on the back of the head from Lucy.

We all laugh as Riley returns with drinks. She hands the waters out to all of us and takes her seat on my lap. Then she places her bottle on my shoulder. “How is it?”

“Fine,” I tell her, kissing her neck. “I’ll rest it when we get home.”

She smiles. She loves it when I say
home
.

“So, do you know what the deal is, Dylan?” Amanda asks, her hand shielding the sun as she looks up at us. “Like, any idea when you go back?”

“Not sure.” I shrug. “I have a check up next week and we’ll go from there.”

Riley adds, “They’re really happy with his progress, though, so that’s a good sign.”

“And what? You go back to your unit?” Logan says.

“Yep. If everything goes to plan.”

“I can’t believe we’re all home for the summer,” Micky chimes in.

“It’ll be good,” Jake says. “We haven’t all been together like this in forever.”

“Minus Heidi,” Lucy says.

There’s no awkwardness at her statement. Not anymore. Riley and Heidi seem to have formed a weird only-a-girl-would-understand mutual respect for each other. We’ve even hung out as a group. They don’t say a lot to each other, but they don’t claw each other’s eyes out either. Granted, if it ever got to that, I’d put my money on Riley. Every single time.

I tune them out as the girls go back to talking books, the guys go back to talking about Cameron’s inability to score a free throw and I go back to looking at the girl I love, watching her smile and join in on both conversations.

She faces me, her smile still in place. “You okay?”

I nod.

Then, for some random reason, I shout, “Yahoo!” Weird, I know. But Dad used to say it and… dammit, I guess I am Grandpa Banks.

“What the hell was that?” Riley says through a fit of laughter.

“Did you just
Yahoo
?” Jake asks.

Next to me, Cameron’s holding a hand to his chest like I just scared the shit out of him.

I laugh with them. Then loudly exclaim, “It’s a beautiful day, boys!”

Now they’re all looking at me like I’m crazy. I am. Riley—she bakes me crazy. Okay. That didn’t have the same effect as bacon but whatever.

Down on the court, I see two teenage boys eying me like my friends are. “What?” I yell. “It is a beautiful day! The sun’s out… everyone’s on break. I got a beautiful girl in my arms.”

“Well,” one of the kids says. “You do have a beautiful girl.”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I shout, getting up to go to him.

Riley grabs onto my neck with one hand, the other covering my mouth. “He’s sorry,” she tells them, before looking back at me, a laugh bubbling out of her. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m happy,” I tell her.

“You’re crazy,” she retorts.

“You bake me crazy.”
Nope
. Still not the same effect. Maybe this is why I kept silent for so long.

We leave the
guys at the park and I drive Riley to work. She’s on the afternoon shift for now, but she’ll be taking over the nine to five next week. Most days, I drive her there and pick her up because even though she has her own car, she prefers I drive. Reminds her of how dreams can become a reality. I don’t mind. But I do get lonely. Some days I just go over to Dad’s house and mess around with Eric. Other days I work on our house. It’s old, but the bones are good, and with enough work we can get it to where we want. That’s what I’m doing—replacing the air-conditioning unit—when I get an unexpected phone call.

Dr. Garvis is on the other end, his tone a mixture of hopefulness and something else I can’t quite decipher. He tells me he’d like to fast forward my appointment to tomorrow and that something has changed with his scheduling. I agree, even though I know Riley can’t get the day off and she likes to go with me to all my check ups. He ends the conversation by saying, “Hopefully your shoulder’s still where it was and I can sign off on the paperwork sooner rather than later.”

I spend the
next couple hours writing a list of all the work the house needs and head over to Dad’s. I tell him and Eric about the phone call, ignoring their identical solemn looks, and get Eric to make copies of the list on his printer. I ask them for help to get the work done in case I can’t get to it all before I leave, and then I give them spare keys—to the house and the cars. I give them the information to my bank accounts to forward on to Riley because if it happens sooner than I want, I don’t want to waste our time together going over these petty details while she whines about not needing it until I tell her to shut up. Then I visit Holly next door. I sit with her and have a quiet meal and I tell her what I know. I ask that she not tell Riley yet, that I want to be the one to do it, and then I tell her that my dad and Eric have spare keys in case she, too, ever needs anything. I don’t know why I tell her that. I don’t really know why I do any of it. Then I go back home and get started on the list. I finish the air conditioner, fix the jammed garage door and clear out the gutters. And then I shower, grab my keys, and put on a mask so I’m ready to face Riley with the plans of keeping the appointment to myself. She doesn’t need to know yet. She’ll just worry—and the fact that she won’t be there will make it worse. I’ll tell her when I know for sure what the plan is. If there even is a plan.

“She’s out back,”
Edna, the shelter receptionist, tells me.

I go behind the desk, like I’d done many times before, and make my way through the aisles of cages and crying animals until I see Riley squatting in front of a cage, patting a tiny dog so ugly I swear I would’ve mistaken it for a giant rat.

“Ry,” I call out, walking toward her. “What’s going on? I’ve been waiting in the car for fifteen minutes.”

She looks up, her eyes glassy. “He always cries when I leave. I hate it,” she mumbles, looking back at the dog.

“They’re sad animals,” I remind her. “They cry.”

“Not like this one,” she says. “He’s all scared and alone and he has no-one.” She motions for me to squat down next to her. “Look at him, Dylan.”

I roll my eyes and sigh at the same time. Then I look at the dog. He looks like every other homeless dog. Nothing but skin and bones and spots of fur. His head rests on his front legs, the fur around his eyes wet from all the crying he’s done. “He’s… cute,” I lie. “I’m sure someone will come in and take him. Let’s go. I’ve got stuff to do at the house.”

“Okay,” she says, reluctantly getting up. The dog whimpers as soon as her hand leaves him. “See, baby?”

“Riley.”

“Bye, puppy,” she says, followed by a pout.

She grabs her stuff and starts to leave, looking back at the dog every time it lets out a whimper.

I grasp her shoulders. “Come on, we have to go.”

She’s silent on
the way home.

She’s still silent when we have my second meal for the night.

She stays silent as we get into bed, her beautiful pout still in place.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“What’s his name? I’ll kick his ass.”

She fakes a laugh and settles her head on my chest. “It’s sad, that’s all. I know he’s not going to get picked up and they’ll have to put him down. I just hate that for him—like the world’s already given up on him, you know?”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

She looks up quickly, then drops her gaze. “There’s nothing we can do.” She pauses a beat. “Is there?”

“Riley, we can’t have a dog. Not now. I’m going soon—or whenever…” I recover quickly. “And we’d need to train him. We don’t have time for that right now. I’m trying to get the house dealt with and you’re still redecorating or whatever and you won’t be home so I’ll have to deal with him—”

“They said I could bring him to work,” she cuts in.

I sigh. “You’ve spoken to them about it?”

“I was just thinking out loud.” She kisses my chest. “But you’re right. It’s too much right now. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Half an hour later, we’re still awake, still in the same positions. “Riley?”

“Hm?”

“You still thinking about him?”

She leans up on her elbow. “I know it sounds stupid, but I just feel connected to him somehow,” she rushes out. “I feel like at some point, we were at the same place in our lives… like he’s lost and sad and he has no one. He has no family, no friends, everyone’s left him and he just exists. He’d probably rather die—”

“Ry…”

She lies back down, her head on my chest again. “I know. I was just thinking… time’s ticking, you know? And who knows where you’ll be in a month? Who am I going to have to keep me company when I’m missing you and unable to contact you?” She shakes her head. “It’s stupid.”

I stroke her hair, letting her words sink in. “And they said you could take him to work with you?”

Her body stills, but she doesn’t look up. “Yes…”

“And you promise to take care of him? As in, I don’t have to do anything?”

She covers her mouth, still not looking at me. “Yes…”

“And you’re going to train him and keep his claws clipped because these hardwood floors are original and—”

“Yes!” she shouts, jumping up, her eyes filled with tears and her smile bright. “Are you saying…”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just asking questions…”

“Dylan!” she laughs out, slapping my chest. “Be serious.” She takes off her top.

My laugh matches hers. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Preparing my payment,” she tells me, her hands already on the band of my drawers.

“Man, you should’ve stuck to reading. It would’ve been a lot cheaper.”

She removes her hands, her body bouncing with excitement. “I don’t know what you’re saying! What are you saying?!”

I reach up and cup her face, my smile fading with each second I touch her.

Fuck, I love her. I’m going to miss these moments. I’m going to miss her.

I grasp the back of her neck and bring her lips to mine. “Get the dog,” I whisper. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” she says, her smile wide as she starts to remove her panties.

I stop her. “Riley.”

“What?”

Then I release my last secret, my last justified fear. “Semper Fidelis.”

She tilts her head, her smile waning. “Always faithful?”

I nod. “Promise me.”

“Always, Dylan,” she whispers. Her mouth covering mine as she lies on top of me. Then she pulls back, holding my face in her hands. “Always.”

Riley

“L
et’s go meet
your daddy,” I whisper in our puppy’s ear, walking out of work and toward Dylan’s truck.

Dylan smiles as we both get inside. “Have you named him?” he asks.

“Bacon.”

He chuckles. “You named the dog Bacon?”

“Yep.” I lean up and give him a kiss. “I just brought him so he could meet his daddy. He has to stay in here for a few days for medical checks before we can bring him home.” I hand him Bacon.

“Did you just call me his daddy?” he asks, awkwardly holding Bacon in his arms.

I laugh. “What would you rather?”

Dylan shrugs. “Master.”

I take Bacon from him and hold his face next to mine. “You can’t be Master. He’s our baby.”

With an eye roll, Dylan says, “Let’s go.”

“Daddy’s gwumpy, baby,” I whisper in Bacon’s ear. “He be better when you come home. Pwomise.” I look up at Dylan, waiting for his amused response. There’s nothing there. “Everything okay?”

“We need to talk, Riley.”

I woke up
this morning with a clear head, a clear plan for the day. We’d wake up, have breakfast, and then I’d spend the day with my new puppy. I’d come home, Dylan and I would have dinner, and we’d make love like we do most nights before falling asleep.

I didn’t expect to be sitting opposite him at the kitchen table while he told me that he went to see Dr. Garvis. I didn’t expect him to say that he was given the all clear. And I
definitely
didn’t expect him to tell me that he was going to go back
tomorrow
. Had I known that, I probably wouldn’t have woken up at all.

“So that’s it?” I ask him, his hands covering mine between us. I’m trying not to cry. I don’t want to. Crying shows weakness. Weakness gives him something to worry about. I don’t want him to worry.

He swallows loudly, his eyes fixed on mine. “That’s it.”

“And you can’t, like, delay it or anything?”

He shakes his head.

I inhale deeply and look away. I look at the kitchen cabinets with three different color samples painted on one of the doors. I look at the floor, the black-and-white checkered floors we once deemed ugly but are now kind of attached to. I look at the kitchen sink, a single bead of water hanging on to the tap for dear life. I look everywhere but at Dylan.

“Ry?”

“We knew, right?”

“What?”