Page 12 of Until the Last Star Fades

“Yeah, putting YOU in a really awkward position. Funny how he never made that kind of financial offer before—”

“He didn’t have money before!” Riley pulled open the toaster oven, peering at the bubbling pool of cheese. “He won’t actually get it until he signs with the Wild after graduation.”

“He was drafted three years ago, right?” Piper hovered, chasing breaths as her voice grew louder. “He’s known about this signing bonus he’ll be getting for THREE YEARS!”

“Piper, enough! You’ll have an asthma attack.” Riley scowled over her shoulder, slamming the toaster oven shut. “Go sit down, you’re in the way—”

“Why didn’t he offer to help eighteen months ago, huh? When everything kicked off? He’s such a fucking dick! He watched you cry over FaceTime, applying for loans, struggling to keep up with school…he only offered when he realized he might lose you.”

Riley threw her a dirty look. “No, he offered because he loves me.”

“That’s not love, that’s manipulation—and when was the last time you said you love him and meant it?”

“I do love him.”

Piper huffed loudly. “He’s holding your heart hostage at the worst possible time and you’re falling for it!” Her eyes swept Riley’s fingers for the toy ring, but the only jewelry was the small moonstone ring of her mom’s that always graced her right hand. “You didn’t say yes, did you?!”

THWUMP, THWUMP, THWUMP!

Riley jumped, her wide eyes glaring at the wall. “Great, my neighbor. She’ll call the super—fucking awesome.” She scowled. “Just…stop yelling! And stop calling Josh a dick. I hate it. I wish you guys would get along—”

“Rye, tell me.” Piper lowered her voice. “Did you say yes?”

She fiddled with her glass. “I’m thinking it over.”

“Riley, no, there’s got to be another way. We’ll figure it out…together.” Piper rubbed her friend’s arm. “If you say yes, you’ll move to Minnesota and end up hitched to a guy you don’t love, raising his brats, and all your dreams of California and a TV career will be gone. Promise me you’ll follow your dream, not some boyfriend? Please don’t throw away your happiness.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to do what’s best—for everyone.” Riley handed her the tequila and lemonade bottles. “And that includes you. Now, let’s drink, eat nachos, and rewrite your dating profile, okay?”

Biting her tongue, Piper tilted the bottles and poured and poured, filing Riley’s glass until lemonade and tequila tickled its rim.

Six

Impatient taxis and drunken shouts rose from the street as Riley watched Piper turn the corner, disappearing into the darkness. Her best friend’s room in NYU’s Alumni Hall was the next street over, and she’d be safely home within minutes. With Piper gone, Riley could finally exhale.

She picked up her iPad (a hand-me-down from Erika), and flopped on the loveseat, propping up her phone on the cushions so she wouldn’t miss Piper’s ‘I’m home’ text. With a finger flick, she popped the button on her jeans. Grrrrrrrowlllllll! Her stomach wasn’t happy—too much cheese or too much angst? The argument with Piper had left her unsettled during Lairds and Liars, dizzy with tequila-soaked questions about the past week, the future, and what made her happy. Josh’s mind might be cluttered with dreams of hockey pucks and trophies, and he’s more hyped about me being a WAG than a TV director in California, but that doesn’t make him a bad person…does it? He loves me. Her thoughts tangled into a dull headache. Piper meant well, but Riley’s relationship with Josh was complicated. More was at stake than a broken heart.

She fanned her flushed face and tapped her tablet, unleashing the high-pitched FaceTime ring. It cut out, replaced by thumping bass and “YEAH…YEAH…”—Usher’s assured vocals blasting through the speaker. Josh’s scruffy moustache and beard, grown for good luck during the tournament, appeared first and then the picture swept up his face, capturing his slightly crooked nose and hazel eyes, muddy and half-lidded.

“Hey, baby gurrrrl!” His voice fought with what sounded like the entire population of Grand Forks, North Dakota, crammed into whatever drinking establishment he was in. His phone lurched, sailing over a table crammed with empty glasses and surrounded by boisterous males downing inky-colored shots. The guys were familiar: Josh’s North Dakota Fighting Hawks teammates, all oozing ego and entitlement—not to mention booze—through their sweaty pores. “Guys, GUYS!” Josh demanded off camera. “Say hello to the future Mrs. King!”

Red faces flooded the screen, their slurring voices competing with each other.

“Kingy shoots, he scores!”

“Fuck the trophy, man—she’s the real prize!”

Josh started his own chant. “She said yes! SHE SAID YES!”

“Hey! Hi guys.” Riley waved politely, blushing.

The drunken chorus grew louder, hammering her phone. “WE’RE NUMBER ONE! NUMBER ONE, BABY! NUMBERRRR ONNNNNE!” The chants sloppily swerved into a shouty out-of-tune rendition of the college’s fight song, the lyrics an incoherent mess.

“JOSH!” Riley raised her voice, waging a losing battle for her fiancé’s attention. “Sorry I missed your calls.” She winced as the screen bobbed from face to face. “I was with Pip—”

“Argh, Hyper Piper!” Josh sneered. “Did you tell her the good news?” His lips curled into a smile. “My baby said YES!”

Riley’s phone lit up on the loveseat—Piper texting she was home. “Um…no. Wasn’t a good time.”