Page 132 of Composed
Riley props me up on the kitchen island.
She hops up onto a stool, readjusts her pastel purple ear defenders, and scans my face. “So you didn’t…”
I arch a brow as she trails off, a smirk tugging my lips. “Wham, bam, and thank you, ma’am?”
“Yeah.” Her nose crinkles.
I chuckle and shake my head. “We did not.”
“Well, why not? Was the kiss not good?”
“No, the kiss was fine.”
“Fine?” she asks blanky, her lips flattening into a line. “Just fine?”
Earth shattering and universe fucking exploding phenomenal, actually.
Nobody kisses like Cole Hayes.
Not that I’ve locked lips with all that many people in my life. Sure, I’ve fooled around some over the years but it’s been few and far between and nothing to write home about.
But kissing is different.
There’s something so intimate about sharing your breath with another person. I’ve never felt the need to do it with anyone else.
“It was great, Riles.” I shrug. “But as with every great moment, it was gone as quick as it came.”
“Are you two back together?”
I still, tugging the stud in my tongue until it stings.
Truth is, I have no idea what we are.
While I don’t think we’re just gonna fall back into the relationship we once had, I’m not sure how we navigate this new normal.
Cole didn't say anything about the interrupted kiss. Not that I tried, either.
Was it a one-off simply because our walls were weakened by a day of familiarity and fun? Do I walk into the studio tomorrow and act as if yesterday and this morning just didn't happen?
I busy myself tuning my electric guitar. “No.”
Riley purses her lips.
Steel bites my fingers when I press the strings.
I love Riley and how she analyses the world in a way I just can’t. But I doubt any amount of talking through this is going to ease the knots in my stomach when I wonder what comes next.
“Tell me all about you and Ax,” I say, changing the topic as I lean over my phone screen and waggle my brows. “Video calls, Riles? Are you being seduced by the bubbly bassist?”
She shakes her head. “We’re friends. I think.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know.” She lifts a shoulder, fingers bouncing on the granite counter. “We talk, sometimes. I’ve never really had friends outside of you and Talia, and even then, you’re my family. So, I don’t know how to do the friendship thing.”
“Do you enjoy talking to him?”
“Yeah.”
