The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(46)

Somewhere along the way, between the dog kidnapping and the federal indictments and the online dating pleasure cruise, I'd changed. I learned—finally—that I was better than men who forgot my name and told half-truths and never texted first. I was better than all of it and I could demand better too.

"I like black cherry seltzer," I said.

"You've mentioned this," Riley answered, his eyebrow arched up. He blinked at me before glancing at the game.

"There's a brand I like that's only available in vending machines," I said. "I must've mentioned that to Rob at some point."

"I imagine you're going somewhere with this." He rolled his hand in my direction. "Proceed."

"Rob tracked down the bottling company and the distributor, and he bought a few cases of my favorite black cherry seltzer."

Riley bobbed his head. "Rob sounds like a detail-oriented guy. Cheers to him and his details."

"I'm not trying to sell you on him," I said. And I wasn't. Really. I wanted him to understand that these guys were light years away from the douchewaffles I used to date. It seemed insignificant but vending machine seltzer was my proof. That move took work. That took time. Yeah, maybe he'd delegated it to one of his assistants or underlings but he was the one who marched into my office with an armful of black cherry goodness like a goddamn superhero. If I called up all the men I'd ever dated and asked them my preferred nonalcoholic beverage, I wasn't convinced any of them would even name seltzer. Let alone black cherry and this specific variety. It was tiny, fallible proof.

"Ben bought a renovation house," I continued. "He wanted to move his grandmother into that house. She passed away before he could finish the work."

My last few boyfriends never would've done that. Peter might've bought a building and given his grandmother a condo for free but he never would've lifted a finger to make it just right for her. And the dude before that…well, he didn't give anything to anyone.

"I'm sorry to hear about Ben's grandmother," he replied.

"They're good guys, Riley," I said. "They're good guys but I don't have to prove that to you. I've figured out a lot of things in the past few months. I think I get it now and…and I don't think you have to worry about me anymore. I don't think I'm going to make those same mistakes anymore. I know that's probably hard for you to believe since you've watched me crash and burn so many times but I believe it this time."

Riley propped his arm on the bar and rested his head on his palm. He stared at me for a long moment, his jaw working as he studied me. "Have your brothers met these guys?"

I dragged my teeth over my lower lip, humming. He wasn't asking after Ash and Linden as an exercise in patriarchal approval. He knew my brothers would find extraordinary levels of amusement in this and they'd stay amused for actual decades. "No. I don't know how to explain this to my family so I haven't."

He tipped his head to the side as he considered this. "I'll allow that excuse, but if you do tell your family, please let me be there so I can watch them pop like pi?atas."

"Only if you promise to get me out of there before my father asks whether I'm using protection," I said with a laugh. "Because that would be his only comment and you know it."

"Done." He reached for his beer and asked, "Is your mom still swiping for you?"

"Mmhmm." I nodded, grimacing. "Yeah. She's having a lot of fun so I haven't stopped her yet. I'm not talking to anyone new. I have my hands full with these two."

Wincing, he said, "I'd rather not think about you having your hands full, Gigi."

"Sorry," I replied. I wasn't sorry. I was mostly amused at Riley's newfound inability to talk about sex without growing uncomfortable. The committed life had changed him.

With his glass raised to his mouth, he paused. "Wait a second. Do they know about each other? Or are they none the wiser?"

"They know about each other." I couldn't stop the eyeroll. "They've met. We all kept running into each other at the same places so I laid down the ground rules. Sometimes I send group texts and just tell them I need alone time. I mean, a girl's gotta do laundry and eat an entire box of mac and cheese and watch The Real Housewives. I don't need them around for that. But then again, I tell them that and then get nonstop texts checking in on me because they're worried about something ridiculous." Still holding the glass, he smiled at me. It wasn't a regular Riley smile, the kind with a dash of devil. It was surprised, maybe a little…proud? That was strange and confusing. I wasn't certain I wanted his pride. That wasn't our relationship. "What? What is that face?"

"You're running the game," he said. "You…you're in charge this time."

"Yeah, I am," I said, as if it was no big deal. "It's not a big deal."

"You're not sitting in my seat, Gigi," he replied softly.

The moment shifted, a weight sliding over us like the heavy, black clouds outside pressing the sky down, down into the city. Riley and I didn't do heavy. If we did, we did it with a thick layer of humor. No big emotional moments, no exposed souls. We made outrageous bets over sports and argued about renovations and sandwiches. This wasn't how we operated and I wanted it to stop.