“There’s something more.”
Riley pushed back from the table, rolled her shoulders. “Maybe we’ll talk about it after I move.”
• • •
She’d been twitchy, Riley admitted as she dragged her friends outside. She hadn’t been able to shake it—not with work, with diving, with sex, with sleep. The minute her mind wandered from the task at hand, the twitchiness started.
So maybe some time away from men altogether, and some solid sport that required a mind-body connection.
The sky held blue and nearly cloudless, and the sun beamed. Pleased, Riley tossed aside the hoodie she’d grabbed on the way out, stood with her hands on her hips, wearing a faded red T-shirt that said DIG IT!
It wasn’t Capri or Corfu, but this taste of Irish summer—that might actually last an entire day—just shined.
She took a running start, executed triple handsprings, stuck the landing.
Oh, yeah, she was coming back.
And Sasha didn’t suck as much as she had. Sure her landings were still shaky, but she was getting more height. Then there was Annika—nobody could come close. She might as well have wings instead of a tail.
Following Annika’s orders, Riley hit a back handspring, pivoted into a side kick. God, she wished she had someone to fight.
Annika’s next order had Sasha looking a little sick, but she charged Riley, who basketed her hands. When Sasha’s foot slapped the basket, Riley pushed up hard.
The soaring backflip was more than decent, the landing rough to Riley’s eye, but Sasha steadied quickly, punched a fist in the air.
“I did it! I’m going to do it again. Better.”
This time as she flew up, Sasha mimed shooting her bow. Riley found herself grinning, even as Sasha lost the landing, fell back on her ass.
“One more time,” Riley shouted.
On one more time, Sasha stuck it, then did a little Rocky-at-the-top-of-the-steps victory dance.
After an hour, Riley had worked up a nice sweat, her muscles felt well used, her brain clear. And the twitchiness snuck back in.
“Okay, we moved. Boy, did we move.” Sasha sat on the ground to stretch. “Now, what’s the more?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Riley rolled her shoulders as if trying to get to an itch.
“Do you still hurt?”
“No.” Shaking her head at Annika, Riley stretched her calves, her hamstrings. “I’m good, and back to fighting weight. I guess ready for a fight. The waiting’s getting to me. We’re so close. I want to finish it.”
As she stretched her quads, she glanced up. Doyle stood on the terrace, the breeze in his hair, his eyes on her. After a long moment, he slipped back inside.
“Crap.”
“Did you fight with Doyle?” Already sympathetic, Annika rubbed Riley’s arm. “You like to fight with Doyle. It’s like the foreplay.”
“Yeah. No. I mean we’re not fighting. We probably will, and that’s okay. It’s . . .” She looked at Sasha. “You’ve already got an inkling.”
“I’m sorry. It’s hard not to. You have feelings. Why wouldn’t you?”
“I’m all right with feelings. But I have more than I want or know what to do with. I wasn’t after this kind of a thing, and now it’s kind of got a hook in me.”
“Oh! You’re in love. This is wonderful!” Annika threw her arms around Riley.
“It’s not wonderful for everybody.”