Page 30 of Riot’s Revenge

For the first time since I’d met him, Riot wasn’t in my apartment for sex. He was there because he wanted to be, sitting beside me on my sofa, drinking coffee and pretending to be interested in revision flashcards. The fact that such an ordinary evening felt more intimate than anything we’d done in bed should have worried me.

13

MARIA

An hour later, I was still curled up on one end of the sofa with a textbook balanced on my lap while Riot occupied the other. The television played quietly in the background, providing little more than a soft murmur beneath the occasional rustle of pages and the distant sounds drifting in through the apartment window.

Neither of us spoke much.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it was one of the most comfortable evenings I’d had in weeks. There was something strangely reassuring about his presence filling the apartment. Riot wasn’t demanding my attention, wasn’t trying to distract me, and wasn’t looking for anything from me. He was simply there, stretched out on the sofa with one arm draped across the back cushion, quietly existing beside me while I worked.

Eventually, exhaustion started catching up with me. The words on the page blurred together no matter how many times I reread them. My eyes burned from staring at revision notes all evening, my neck ached from hunching over textbooks, and despite my best efforts, I found myself reading the same paragraph over and over again without retaining a single piece of information. The information simply refused to stay inside my brain.

“You look miserable.”

I looked up. “I am miserable.”

“Then get some sleep.”

“I have exams.”

“You also have eyes and they’re closing.”

I laughed despite myself, the sound fading into a yawn before I managed to focus on the textbook again.

The next thing I knew, I awoke slowly, disoriented for a moment as I tried to remember where I was. I was still on the sofa, lying down. The television had been switched off, leaving the apartment quiet except for the faint hum of traffic outside, and a blanket had been draped over my legs at some point while I slept. Warmth pressed gently against my back, and for several seconds, I couldn’t work out why.

I turned my head and saw Riot was asleep behind me. One arm rested loosely around my waist while his breathing moved in a slow, steady rhythm against my shoulder. In sleep, the harsh edges that normally defined him seemed to disappear. Without the constant alertness in his eyes or the tension he carried everywhere he went, he looked younger somehow.

My mind wandered through the last few weeks, replaying all the little moments that had somehow become important. The food he’d started bringing after my shifts, the way he worried about Reaper while pretending it was irritation, the quiet companionship while I studied that night, and the fact that he’d stayed when I’d not asked him to.

That was when I realized I was in trouble, but not because Riot was dangerous. I’d known that from the beginning. The problem was that somewhere along the way, he’d stopped feeling like a reckless decision or just a hookup and started feeling like someone I could rely on.

For a long time, I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of Riot’s breathing and trying very hard not to examine what that meant.

Eventually he shifted beside me. The movement was small at first. A tightening of his arm around my waist. Then his eyes opened, and for several seconds, he looked around, confused.

I bit back a smile. “Good morning.”

The room was dark except for the glow of a streetlight filtering through the curtains.

His gaze traveled around the apartment before settling on me and softening. “Huh? I fell asleep.”

I laughed softly. “Apparently.”

Riot finally sat up and scrubbed a hand across his face. “What time is it?”

I checked my phone. “Nearly five.”

“Shit.” The word was muttered beneath his breath.

For a moment, he simply sat there, looking more exhausted than I’d ever seen him.

“You can stay. I’m off today.” The offer escaped before I could stop it.

Riot’s eyes found mine, and he shook his head. “Nah. Got things to do.”

I nodded, stuffing down the well of disappointment bubbling up in my chest.