Flirting with Forever: A Hot Romantic Comedy(32)

She didn’t follow us into the house, where the goodbyes would have to be said again at the door. She pulled Riley aside and whispered something in her ear, gave her another hug, and walked back to her place.

I watched her go while my siblings filed into my house or searched for missing socks and shoes. She paused at her door and met my eyes. It was hard to see her expression in the low evening light. I wanted to imagine her look was an invitation—still open, even though I’d told her I wasn’t into it.

Not that I’d take her up on it. I couldn’t.

She disappeared inside and I let out a breath of regret.





13





DEX





My music blasted while I waited in the school pickup line. My evening client had to cancel, so I figured I’d swing by and pick up Riley so she didn’t have to endure the dreaded bus. She was a trooper about it but I knew she liked it better when someone could come get her and bring her home.

The bell rang and seconds later, kids streamed out of her school, anxious to get out of there. I waited, tapping the steering wheel to the music, watching for her.

When she came out, I barely recognized her.

She didn’t look different, really. Her hair was down and she wore a t-shirt and jeans. Normal stuff. But she walked with her head up, chin lifted, almost strutting away from the school, like she owned the place.

It was badass.

“Hey,” I said when she got in the car. “How was your day?”

She shifted her backpack onto the floor between her feet. “Good. Ask me what I got on my math test.”

“What did you get on your math test?”

“Guess.”

“You just told me to ask. You’re supposed to tell me the answer.”

She laughed. “Guess anyway.”

“Fine. B plus.”

“Way to have faith in me, Dad. I got an A.”

I held out my fist and she bumped hers against mine. “Nice work.”

“Thanks.”

Was it her grades that had her in such a good mood? Whatever it was, I’d take it.

“I think an A on a math test demands celebratory ice cream,” I said. “What do you think?”

“I think yes.”

“Done.”

As soon as the cars in front of me moved, I left and headed for a local ice cream place. We stopped and grabbed waffle cones to go—chocolate brownie with walnuts for me and lemon cheesecake for her.

She didn’t talk much on the way home. But at least it was due to the ice cream, not a bout of teenage brooding.

We pulled up to the house, still licking drips off our cones.

“I’ll get this.” I grabbed her backpack for her before I got out.

“Thanks, Dad.”

I followed her inside and set her bag on the bench near the front door. The zipper was partially open and something pink stuck out. It looked like clothes but I didn’t recognize it. That was weird. I pulled it out and held it up. It was a tank top.

“Ry, is this yours?”

She glanced back. “Oh, yeah. It’s part of my pajamas.”

My brow furrowed. “Why did you bring pajamas to school? Was it a spirit day or something?”

“No, I just did a thing.”

“Did you wear them?” I pulled out the bottoms. It was a tank top and shorts set—pink with white stripes. Fine for sleeping but I wasn’t sure how I felt about her wearing them in front of all those pubescent boys.

“Yeah, just for a little while.”

“I don’t think pajamas are allowed at school.”

“They’re not.”

I brought them into the kitchen where she was finishing her ice cream. “But you wore them anyway? Should I expect a note or a phone call?”

“Neither. I’m not in trouble.”

“But why did you wear pajamas at school in the first place?”

“It was Nora’s idea. Actually, I guess it was my idea—technically. But she helped.”

“Wait, what?”

She sighed. “I wore them to get back at Ryan. I knew I couldn’t have them on all day, so I put them on at lunch, did my thing, and changed back into my regular clothes. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Get back at Ryan for what? Who’s Ryan?”

“Dad,” she said, her voice tinged with exasperation. “I told you, it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t get in trouble at all. And it worked.” She hopped off the stool. “I have homework. Thanks again for the ice cream.”

I watched her go, completely baffled. She wore pajamas at lunch to get back at Ryan? Who the fuck was Ryan and what had the little punk done to my baby girl?

Leaning against the counter, I let out a breath. I needed to calm down. Riley was clearly fine. She’d been in a great mood and the way she’d looked coming out of the school today—so confident—whatever Ryan had done, she’d dealt with it herself.

That was good. I couldn’t protect her from everything—damn it—and she needed to learn to deal with problems. Instead of worrying about what the hell she was talking about, I probably just needed to be proud of her.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I dumped the rest of my ice cream cone in the trash and answered. It was my sister, Maggie.