Zane spun to face Riley. “Not interrupting at all,” he said. “I’m here for you.” He couldn’t stop from tracing his gaze over her. Fuck, was he here for her. Her long-sleeved T-shirt hugged round breasts, and her blonde hair framed a pixie-like face and a teasing smile. “How have you been?”
“Not nearly as great as I am right now.” She locked her gaze on his, eyes bright blue and dancing with mischief. “I can’t believe you’re really back. For good. We have so much to catch up on. So much to do.”
His sex-starved imagination seized and taunted him with the concept of what they could be doing. When he pushed aside the mental images of tasting her cherry-flavored lips, they left an empty spot for a new tension to dive in. A pang clattered in his gut, bringing memories of what he’d left behind in the Air Force.
That was one bit ofcatching up onthat could wait until later. Or never. She didn’t need that kind of burden. He swallowed the response, not letting it show on his face. “What have you been up to?”
“This and that.” She turned her attention to the ground, fingers flying to the silver heart resting at the base of her throat. She still had the locked he’d given her in high school. TheFriends Foreverone.
The realization warmed him. “That’s specific.”
“Is this for me?” She grabbed one of the cups from the table.
“Only if you still like caramel lattes.”
“Only if you need air to breathe.” She kissed him on the cheek, took a long drink, and then dropped onto the bench across from him, fiddling with the paper sleeve on the cup.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with secrets. “The last few years have been so good you don’t even want to talk about them?”
She met his gaze. “Wrong.” Her voice was a combination of finality and teasing. “You’re the one who dropped off the radar two years ago. You don’t get to waltz back into town as if you were never gone, and interrogate me about my life without giving me details in return.”
He really wanted to avoid this conversation. But he could redirect if needed. “What do you want to know?”
“Where are you staying?”
He could answer that question. “One of Archer’s spare rooms. He’s letting me have it cheap, until I find work.”
Riley’s expression shifted in an instant, as her furrowed brow melted into wide-eyed realization. “Really? And you’re still wondering what I was up to?”
“Yes.”
She gave a short laugh, but she didn’t sound amused. “I’m kind of surprised he didn’t mention it is all. We... Um... I was staying there for a while too.”
That explained a lot. Riley and Archer, his two best friends, had a perpetual on-again, off-again relationship. “I thought you two were done.” Funny how Archer didn’t mention the on-again part of things when Zane mentioned where he was going this afternoon.
“We are, this time.”
He’d heard that before. He raised an eyebrow.
“This is different from any other time,” she protested. “Now. I answered your question. You answer mine. Give and take, right? Where did you go?”
Technically, nowhere. In truth, everywhere he hadn’t wanted to. “Afghanistan. Iran. North Korea. You already know that.” Her comment back then, when he gave her the basic details of his job, wasI always thought Air Force equaled being some hotshot, flying fighter jets. You really get to hone your hacking skills instead?He’d told her it was calledintelligence. Someone had to keep those hotshots safe in the air.
He should have stuck to doing exactly that. Guilt tried to worm its way back in, and he scrubbed it out. This gnawing shadow was going to be status quo for a while, wasn’t it?
She clucked. “All of that happened before you dropped off the radar. Where have you been for the last two years?”
“How’s the drawing coming?” He snatched the first topic he could think of. Riley was a brilliant artist. She kept saying she wanted to go pro. Step up and teach at the community college at least. Maybe try to publish one of her graphic novels.
While he was deployed, he’d happily sent her photos for reference shots—of him, of his Air Force buddies, all of it. Anything to help her with her passion.
“It’s good. Now that you’re back, you and your truck can model for me in person.” She twirled her cup on the table. Her expression said she wasn’t buying any of his attempts to change the subject. But she was letting him do it anyway.
“You drew my truck into your story?” It was an older model BMW 1602 he and Granddad converted into a truck when he was a teenager.
A hint of a smile crept back in. “It’s got character. I love your truck. Your granddad let me take pictures whenever he pulled it out of storage for maintenance.”
That made sense. Granddad adored Riley.