Page 97 of Buckin' Around

She’s too quiet. Reserved, like something’s keeping her small. Not like Riley O’Malley at all. Where is the hotheaded, super-organized firecracker I’ve come to adore?

Fuck.

Did I do this to her?

Itwasinappropriate.

Fuck. FUCK.

My hands turn clammy around the crib panel. “Riley, I’m so?—”

“Let’s get this done. I need to start supper.”

She isn’t looking at me.

Shewon’tlook at me.

We line the panels up, and I sit on the floor to twist in the long bolts for the base. With all four sides tacked together, she sinks beside me to help with the bottom slats.

I want to fix this awkwardness between us. I can’t stand that I have royally fucked this up.

“Pass me another?” Riley says.

I hold out a slat for her to take. Only when she tries to, I don’t release my grip. “Talk to me, Riles. Tell me I fucked this up, and I will fix it, I swear.”

Her dark eyes meet my own and . . .

They are consumed by fire.

Good girl. Let me have it.

Come on, I want to see the Riley I know is in there. Not this small, in-her-head version that’s making me anxious.

“Slat, Spencer.”

“Not until you tell me what’s got you all caught up.”

Her face hardens, her grip tightening around the light wood.

That’s my girl.

Fuck, give it to me, Riles. Go on.

“You are anuttereejit, Spencer Lockwood. You know that?”

I tug on the slat, and she shuffles an inch closer.

“For what, O’Malley? Go ahead, flay the flesh from my goddamn bones,” I grind out.

She tugs at the slat again. When it doesn’t budge, she glances to where our hands almost meet.

“I’m waiting, sweet girl.”

Her top lip flinches. “I amnotsweet.”

“Not entirely true; you have your moments.” I give her a ridiculous smile and wink.

Wink? Did I really just wink?