Page 63 of Until the Last Star Fades

Twenty-Seven

Three days later

“Thank fuck it’s Friday!” Piper, wearing a thin black sweater and a flouncy champagne-colored tutu, did a pirouette in the middle of the crossing at Third Avenue and St. Mark’s Place. “Now, let’s come up with a scheme to get out of dinner with Casey’s family after his documentary screening. Did he tell you what he did?”

Riley finished typing a text to Ben.

That noisy, huh? I’m glad your 2nd day’s going well—despite the headache. I’ll stop by Sunday. She hit send and squinted into the warm sun. “You only have to pretend for one night. If they think you’re his girlfriend, they’ll stop bugging him to find one.”

Piper hopped onto the curb, pulling her MoMA tote into her waist. “What should I fake to get out of it? Pick one: strep throat, a raging UTI…shingles?”

“What is shingles?” Riley’s ponytail bobbed and swayed as she stared into her backpack, her hand pawing past books, her wallet, a phone charger…

“I don’t know, but I’ve got it bad.”

“We can’t bail.” Passing the piercing place on St. Mark’s, Riley met Piper’s eyes before diving back into her bag. “Tell you what—I’ve got half a bottle of gin in my apartment. I’ll bring it along for Dutch courage.”

“You never buy gin.”

“Josh does. It must’ve rolled under my loveseat at Christmas. Shit! Where are my keys?!” Riley upended her laptop, digging…

“Well, tickle my tits ’til Tuesday. You can enjoy that gin together…fucker.” Piper glared over her sunglasses and bumped Riley with her tulle-covered hip.

“Huh?” Nose deep in her backpack, she looked up. Head down, scrolling on his phone and brandishing a cheerful bouquet of red roses that popped against his black Fighting Hawks t-shirt, Josh stood steps away in front of her building. He’s here? NOW? For a split second, she felt like she was floating, teetering atop a massive rollercoaster before the breath-sucking plunge. Shit.

Her silence drew a smirk to Piper’s pale lips. “Be quiet, little rabbit. We can turn tail and run for the hills?”

Lowering her backpack, Riley’s eyes slipped from the garment bag flung over Josh’s shoulder to the duffle bag at his feet. “He’s not supposed to be here for three more weeks.”

Josh glanced up, his eyes skating down Riley’s dress to her bare legs, a loved-up grin rising through his scruffy beard. “Hey, baby girl!”

Riley gave him a tight smile. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I came for the weekend. I couldn’t wait ’til your graduation.” He stuffed his phone into his khakis, his eyes jumping to Riley’s left, all joy evaporating. “Piper.”

“PuckHead.” Piper wrinkled her nose and tilted her head away, planting her hands on her hips. She knew he hated that nickname.

Josh ignored the defiance radiating from Piper, his smile returning as he proudly laid the bouquet in Riley’s hands. “So…surprise!”

He never buys me flowers. “Wow. They’re beautiful.” Piper snapped her gum. “Thanks.” Riley wrapped her arm around his neck, drawing him close. Pressed between their chests, the roses’ cellophane crinkled, but Riley squeezed Josh tighter, ignoring the thorns lurking beneath. She met his lips, their teasing warmth and the loneliness in her heart urging her to go deeper. Josh obliged, his tongue beckoning, slow and tender. His hand traced her hip, up the back of her black and white floral dress and into her hair, his fingers gently tugging.

Piper gritted her teeth behind a plastic smile. “I’m still here, you know.”

Pulling away, Riley peered over her shoulder, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail. “Pip, sorry. Tonight—”

“What’s tonight?” Josh squeezed the handle of his garment bag.

Piper ignored him. “Nah, forget it. My shingles are a bitch.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“You better.” Piper swiveled in her flats, her tutu bouncing around her hips with each stomp down the street.

Josh whispered in Riley’s ear. “You’re mine—finally.”

• • •

Backpack landing with a thud, Riley flipped off her flats and shoved her long sleeves up to her elbows, the cellophane-wrapped roses crunching in her arms with each shift of her body. “I wish I knew you were coming. Casey’s documentary screening’s tonight, and I’m scheduled to work tomorrow…” Mid-frown, she eyed the Fun Dip packet from Ben on the counter, triggering a memory. Ben’s blue tongue…