Page 203 of Love in Riverbend
“Because you like me.”
“Oh, is this more of the act we’re doing for Devan and Justin?”
It is my turn to smile. “No, it’s because we’re both adults, and we can look beyond the past into the future.”
She shakes her head. “If you want a good word before the clock strikes midnight, I might be able to help you out. After that, I’d say, remember me? I’m one of the no-strings girls from your past. If you wanted strings, you wouldn’t have treated me the way you did.”
One of…no, she isn’t one of a long list.
Marilyn is the one I regret, not because she isn’t everything I would want. Because she is the one I shouldn’t want—the too-young friend of my little sister. Marilyn is the one I never should have touched and definitely never should have taken from what I did.
I notice the music has changed and others are joining us on the dance floor as Marilyn begins to back away,
I hold tight to her hand, stopping her escape. “Maybe it’s not too late for strings.”
Before I can make a convincing argument, she flashes her biggest and most insincere smile. “It’s too late, Ricky. It was too late the morning you walked into your house and ignored me.” She pulls her hand away and disappears into the sea of dancers.
Chapter 3
Marilyn
With my head held high, I slip into the ladies’ bathroom. It isn’t until I reach the safety and security of the stall that I let my face fall forward. Bolting the door, I grab handfuls of toilet paper, pressing the tissue to my eyes, willing my tears to stop, while simultaneously forbidding more from forming. My orbs sting from the combination of makeup and the salty evidence of my unwanted emotion.
I should have convinced Devan to select Jill as her maid of honor.
I shouldn’t have slept with Ricky.
I never should have admitted that he hurt me. In all the years, I’ve never told him.
There are too many shoulds and shouldn’ts to count as I recall what it’s like to be in Ricky’s arms. I’m not thinking about what happened between us five years ago. My mind is too busy dealing with the dance we just shared, the touch of his hand to my waist and his strong, steady hold of my hand. I can’t allow myself to entertain the way warmth radiated from his hard, toned body.
Ricky may have given up farming in pursuit of a career in finance, but over fifteen years of manual labor have left him with sculpted muscles that men in the cities pay personal trainers to create. Last night at the rehearsal, I failed at not noticing the bulge of his biceps beneath the hem of his short-sleeved shirt or the scroll of the tattoo that played peekaboo beneath the same sleeve.
Ricky has changed over the last half decade. While his body has gotten sharper, trimmed, and toned, the rough edges of the personality he once had have softened. I tell myself not to read too much into the way he stared when he asked about my internship, to ignore the soft suede of his eyes as his gaze locked on mine, and the genuine interest in his tone. That’s easier than telling my body not to react to his presence.
Ricky may have been my first sexual encounter, but not my last. The list isn’t excessive, but I’ve had enough experience to know that despite the pain that comes with the first time, Ricky has been a difficult act to follow. Maybe I’ve blown up his prowess in my mind. I can’t be sure. I never will be able to be certain.
“Marilyn?”
I recognize Jill’s voice. Inhaling, I work to regulate my voice. “I’m in here.” One of my best friend’s shoes comes into view, and I open the door.
Immediately, Jill tilts her head and her smile fades. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, inhaling, throwing the wad of tissue into the toilet, and flushing it down. Straightening my neck and squaring my shoulders, I turn to meet her gaze. “I’m great. How are you?”
Jill reaches for my hand and looks around the otherwise empty room. “What happened? Did Ricky say something to upset you?”
“He’s been—” I hesitate as I retrieve my hand “—nice. He’s made a few stupid cracks, but so have I.”
“Mar, it’s been five years. Think of it as water under the bridge or some stupid phrase my mom or your mom would say.”
“After tonight, I won’t need to see him again. I’m happy for Devan, but the constant combining of her friends and Justin’s has been…a lot.”
Jill scrunches her nose. “I was looking for you because Devan’s about to do the bouquet toss.”
I shake my head. “I’ll let Molly or someone her age catch it.”
“You can’t do that. Superstition says whoever catches the bouquet marries next. You know Dax and Kandace won’t let Molly marry until she’s at least thirty. You would be…”
