The Blind Date by Landish, Lauren (suggested reading .txt) 📕

things to you a long time ago, and I never got the chance to tell you how sorry I was. How sorry I am. That is one of my biggest regrets . . . that I lashed out in pain and caused you pain. You didn’t deserve that, and honestly, it had nothing to do with you. I’m just sorry.”

The apology doesn’t seem like enough. I’ve beaten myself up so many times for that conversation over the years that I don’t think I could ever find the words to express how awful it felt to let my anger bubble over that way and burn everything and everyone around me. I’d always been the one to look after my family, the responsible one, and I’d spouted off like a reckless, careless kid. Exactly what I’d accused Riley of being. Except she’d been eighteen and had every excuse to behave the way she did—like an idealistic dreamer. I was older, and I should’ve been wiser, but my dumb ass had started saying those things and I couldn’t stop.

She must see the pain on my face, or hear it in my voice, because she reaches out and covers my hand with hers. A shock of electricity goes through me where our skin touches. Riley doesn’t flinch away from it, though, curling her fingers through mine.

“Noah, don’t beat yourself up. It was a long time ago. I’ll admit that I’ve thought some pretty awful things about you over the years. A lot of them were born out of that conversation even though River explained what was going on after you ran out of there.”

He did what? I’m suddenly dying to know what he said and how he explained away my utter rudeness. But I don’t get the chance to ask because Riley’s moving on . . .

“But I’m not still pining away over some mean thing you said years ago. Do you know how many awful things people say to me every day? Your hair looks frizzy today. You look like you’re gaining weight. Are you losing too much weight? Are you seriously this happy all the time? Tone down the caffeine, it makes you obnoxious. Too perky at eight am. They go on and on,” she tells me casually, as if those words slide right off her back.

But they have to hurt, right?

“Nice doesn’t mean doormat. If you want to do something for you, do it. Anyone with a problem with it can fuck off.” Again, that’s my advice about anyone who doesn’t support me . . . or Riley. It doesn’t escape my notice that that’s exactly what she should’ve told me all those years ago. I deserved to be put in my place back then. It’d just been River who’d done it, not Riley.

Riley's eyes go wide like I'm spouting utter nonsense.

“I’d like to say that’s possible, but it’s a fine line. I accepted that when I started Riley Sunshine.”

“I get that, Riley, I really do. But maybe there’s something more to you than Riley Sunshine. Maybe Riley Watson deserves some happiness . . . ah, fuck, I’m not saying this right.” I run my fingers through my hair, remembering a second too late that they’re covered in taco grease. Great, now my hair is probably an oil slick.

“Do what I do,” Riley says, putting her hands up high in the air. With one brow quirked in confusion, I lift mine too. “Shake it out,” she tells me, wiggling her arms so much that her hands flap around. I wiggle too, but not as hard. “Good, now your head.” She shakes her head back and forth. “And your feet.” She stomps her feet, the thuds muffled by the rug, but Raffy jumps back with a sound of displeasure.

I have no idea what this is, but I do it. I do it all. Arms, head, and feet moving to mimic Riley.

“And a big breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth.” We do the breath together, and then Riley gives me a megawatt smile.

“Brain reset. Now just say what you want to say plainly. Fancy words and explanations don’t matter. Think of it like a rough draft. You don’t even want to know the number of times I have to rewrite my social media posts some days.” The encouragement is pure Riley Sunshine, but I need it right now. I need all the help I can get because I’m about to jump out of an airplane with no parachute and the ground below is sharp rocks.

“I want to continue what we started, Riley. Not only smooth over the miscommunication. I want to keep going. I want to have conversations like we had, and to talk with you and to . . . see where we can go.”

Now who’s the one with pie in the sky, big dreams? That’d definitely be me. But I can’t ignore what I’ve felt the last week, nor what I’m feeling sitting this close to Riley right now.

I can see her considering what I’m saying, and I reach out and lay my hand on top of hers the way she did mine moments ago, lending strength. Her fingers tighten in mine for a moment before she stiffens. “Noah, we can’t. What would Arielle and River think? They’re our siblings and best friends.”

It takes me a moment to realize what she’s saying, because it is a sort of weird X-shaped situation. Her best friend is my sister, my best friend is her brother. Yeah . . . that’s a little weird.

But I don’t care. Or more precisely, I’m willing to take the risk.

“You said who you date is none of River’s business. So why do they need to find out right away?” I ask. “We can always tell them later if things get serious.”

The opposite implication hangs heavily in the air—if this blows up, we’ll both pretend it never happened and never breathe a word about it to River and Arielle. But Riley considers it, and I feel my heart lighten as she nods shallowly. “I . . . Noah, I need to think about this.”

“Then think,” I