When You Look Like Us by Pamela N. Harris

Author:Pamela N. Harris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quill Tree Books
Published: 2020-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

I CAN’T GET TO RILEY’S CAR FAST ENOUGH. MAINLY because I practically have to carry Riley in my arm. She only took one hit, but damn if it wasn’t a long one. Her being a lightweight makes for a weighty getaway. I wait for the elevator to open to lead me and Riley to the ground floor. Peek over my shoulder to make sure Doug didn’t change his mind about us kissing his nunchucks.

“What kind of car is this?” Riley asks, poking at the elevator door. “One of them foreign, sporty things?”

I grab Riley’s hand just as the doors open to make her stop assaulting the elevator.

“Whoa, voice command, much?” she asks.

“Something like that. Come on.” We hobble into the elevator with her arm wrapped around my neck. I press the button to make the doors close behind us and the elevator chimes each time we pass a floor.

“Ay, this my jam,” Riley says, pulling away from me to pump her arms up and down. She shimmies like an old cat at a cookout, doing a dance my dad used to call “raising the roof.” I place my hand near her lower back, ready to swoop in just in case she loses her balance. I can’t believe she’d do something this crazy. That joint could’ve been laced with anything. She didn’t even flinch, though. She did what she had to do to get us out of there. In fact, that’s what she’s been doing since I told her about Nic. Sticking her neck out much farther than she needed to. Doug was right—her balls were huger than mine. I’ve underestimated Riley all this time.

The elevator door opens and we’re on the ground floor. I put Riley’s arm back around me and we trek toward her car.

“I see what you’re doing,” Riley says, poking her finger into my chest. Her and that finger, though. “You’re just trying to find an excuse to touch me.”

I stifle a laugh. “Come again?” I ask.

“I can walk just fine, Jay Murphy. Matter of fact, I can walk better than fine. I’m floating in air.”

“On air,” I correct.

“That’s what I said. On air.” She pauses then cracks up laughing. “You ever notice how weird that word is? AY-ERRR. Is that one or two syllables? You try.”

“I’m good,” I say. Thankfully, we’re less than a block away from her car. Riley gets quiet and I glance at her, make sure she’s still with me. I find her studying my face. “Are you, though? Good?”

She keeps looking at me. “Your lips,” she says.

“What about them?”

“They’re really . . . kissable.”

Okay, I can’t stifle my laughter anymore. This time it comes out. “Okay, you need to sleep it off.”

“I’m not even tired,” Riley insists as I dig into her pocket, pull out her car keys. I don’t have my license, but I have my permit. No point in going through with the deed when you have no car to drive. I unlock the door and gently place Riley into the passenger seat, buckle her in real cozy.

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