Page 11 of Riot

The door opened behind us. Mayhem came back out carrying another table on one side while I hurried to grab the other. We set it next to the first. Then we went back in for a third.

The work settled into a rhythm. Lift. Carry. Set down. Go back. My skin cooled as the sweat dried under my shirt. Riot stayed easy the whole time. He moved like someone comfortable in his own body, which I found deeply inconsiderate. Every now and then our hands got close on the table edge or our shoulders brushed in a doorway, and each little thing landed way harder than it should have.

By the time we finished the outside stack, my breathing had evened out and my crush on Riot had gotten less manageable.

Inside again, Mayhem headed toward the kitchen to check something with Marlene’s assistant. That left me near the chairs and Riot near the boxes of paper goods.

Neither of us said anything. The room wasn’t loud, but I could hear a cart rattling somewhere down the hall and kids yelling faintly from the gym. Riot bent, picked up a box, then straightened and tipped his chin toward me.

“You helping tomorrow too?”

Interest sparked so fast it almost embarrassed me. Which was impressive, considering I spent most of my life in a state of low-grade embarrassment anyway.

I leaned a hip against the stacked chairs and folded my arms loosely. “Depends. Are you asking because I’m such a dazzling table mover or because you need someone to mock your setup technique?”

Riot smiled again. His eyes stayed on mine. “Could be both.”

I swallowed then made myself look easy about it. “Then yeah. I’m helping.”

He nodded once, like that answer pleased him more than he meant to show. That did nothing good for me.

“Good,” he said. “Thought I might see you here.”

My pulse gave a stupid little jump. Cute. Annoying. Uninvited.

I glanced down at the box in his hands then back at him. “That sounded almost like planning.”

“Maybe it was.”

The room suddenly felt a degree warmer. I wet my lips and pushed off the chairs. “Dangerous thing, assuming I’ll show up. I could be very booked and glamorous.”

“Laundromat glamorous?”

I stared at him. “That information feels illegally specific.”

He shifted the box against his hip, still looking amused. “Marlene mentioned you work there.”

“Good. For a second, I thought I had a stalker, and that would’ve really ruined the mood.”

He barked out a laugh. Then he shook his head and set the box down on the nearest table.

“With a line like that, I think you’d survive it,” he said.

“Survive, yes. Thrive, no.”

I would definitely find out tomorrow if I could survive Riot’s charm. Maybe even thrive a little.

Chapter Three

Riot

I rolled out of bed with Calvin still on my mind and kept him there through the ride over.

By the time I got to the rec center, that hadn’t changed.

The side lot was already busy. Kids ran in packs between the basketball court and the patch of grass near the picnic tables. Somebody had music going from a speaker by the open doors. Old-school stuff, loud enough to carry but not loud enough to drown out the laughter and shouting. Heat sat on everything. Smoke from the grill drifted across the lot, and Drift stood over it with a spatula in one hand and a towel over his shoulder like he’d been born annoyed at charcoal.

Merk and Holler were setting out coolers. Sledge had dragged two extra tables into the shade and was pretending not to bark orders while he barked orders. Reaper leaned against one of the tables meant for food and stole chips from a bag someone else had opened.