“Perfect?” he murmured, curling his hand around the nape of my neck. “It was perfect.”
“Yes.” I wiggled closer, fitting my head under his chin, and his hand slipped from my neck as he wrapped his arm around me. I couldn’t even imagine what actual sex would feel like if what we’d just done felt that good. Then again, I figured sex, at least the first time, would probably hurt a little. And I was kind of glad that the first time I experienced something like this wasn’t marred by even a moment of pain.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment.
I lifted my head. “For what?”
He grinned a little. “For trusting me with this. For everything?”
My smile raced across my face. I snuggled in, closing my eyes. Every part of my body was relaxed, and I knew I could fall asleep until I heard Rider chuckle. I tipped my chin up and looked at him. “What?”
“I was just thinking.” His cheeks pinked. “Man, this is going to sound cheesy, but I was thinking that this is the first time this room has felt like...mine.”
“No,” I whispered. “That’s not cheesy at all.”
Rider brushed his lips across my cheek as he rose onto his elbow. “What are we going to do?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. You should head back to school. It’ll be around lunchtime.”
“What about you?”
“I think I’m going to head to their aunt’s house. I want to be there today. I know they’re going to start the whole funeral process.”
The weight of grief returned. It wasn’t like we’d forgotten about Jayden, but the pain had lessened during those brief moments. Feeling like I’d woken from a dream, I nodded. “If I’m lucky, the school hasn’t called home yet. Carl and Rosa are already ticked off enough at me.”
His brows lowered. “Why?”
It was hard keeping my gaze fixed on his face when he was sort of, kind of naked. I’d looked my fill, but I wanted to look more.
“Mallory?” He chuckled.
I was looking and I needed to focus. My cheeks heated. “They got pretty mad after I told them what happened Saturday.”
The grin slowly slipped off his face. “That’s understandable.”
“Not really,” I told him. “They...want me to stop seeing you.”
His brows lifted as he sat up and swung his legs over the bed. He looked at the door, jaw hard. “Really?”
“Yeah, I got into a fight with Carl and Rosa,” I explained as he rose, pulling up his boxers, and for a moment I got distracted by the stiff muscles along his spine. “What happened to Jayden wasn’t your fault.”
“But you saw that go down because I brought you to that house.” He swiped his jeans off the floor and then pulled them on. “That much is true.”
I disagreed. “You didn’t know that was going to happen.”
Rider faced me, and I realized he held my bra. I flushed as he handed it over. “That doesn’t change what happened.” He looked away as I put it on. “How bad did the fight get?”
“I left the house. That’s when I went looking for you.” Scooting to the edge of the bed, I found my sweater and pulled it on over my head. When I stood, it fell to my thighs. “They were...just overreacting.”
His gaze swung back to me and then did a slow slide, causing my toes to curl against the thin carpet. He didn’t say anything as I found my jeans and pulled them on. I sat on the edge of the bed, worrying my lower lip as he finished dressing. “They just don’t understand. It’s like they expect me to make all these choices—choices they would make, choices Marquette would make, and I’m not them. I’m not her.”
“They know you’re not her.” Rider walked toward the bed, stopping. I grinned when I saw his bare feet peeking out from the hem of his jeans. “They just want what’s best for you.”
“I know.” I looked up at him. “Carl... He did say something that I really never thought he’d say. He said to Rosa that this—the whole fighting thing—was something he didn’t have to worry about with Marquette.”
“Shit,” Rider muttered, running his hands through his hair. “He didn’t mean that, Mouse.”
I shrugged. Maybe he did. I’d been pretty malleable the last four years. “I never...I never disagreed with them over anything, you know. I owe them so much, so I always agreed with whatever they wanted. Whatever they thought best. Like they’ve been pushing this whole med school thing, and I don’t want to do that. But I agreed to look at these pamphlets anyway. I don’t even know why. I think I want...”
“You want what?”
“I think I want to go into social work.” I waited for him to laugh. He didn’t. I sat a little straighter. “It’s something that makes sense to me. I could help people like you and me, but Carl had laughed and asked if I was being serious. He said I wouldn’t make any money.”
“Not everything is about money.”
“Exactly.”
“Money helps, though.” He paused. “Carl seems like a good man. He was angry. People say stupid crap when they’re mad.” A muscle throbbed in his jaw. “But I...”