Page 2 of The Next Chapters
AGE: 30
Gianna hadn’t been on a date in years. Not a real date. In fact, in the last decade, she’d perfected the art of not-dating.
Going on a date with someone meant more than hanging out with someone. On that much, Gianna was very firm. When Gianna was talking – like, talking-talking – to a person she found attractive or interesting, she’d spend time with them before they moved right into the sex portion of their relationship, generally.
Unless it was going to be a true straight-up one-night stand. Then, it was all for fun, no big deal.
But if Gianna was planning on “seeing someone”, for lack of a better term, multiple times, she had to vet them first. She’d made the mistake of not vetting them a few times in her early twenties, of taking people at their word that they could handle a no-strings fling with her without wanting to make it into anything it wasn’t. Because all it ever was and ever would be was sex and a potential friendship.
She’d finely honed her observational skills to look for any sign that a man or woman might turn a little messy if they had repeat hookups. Certain lingering looks, any sign of possessiveness, or even someone looking too intent or eager. She knew what questions to slip into casual getting-to-know-you conversations – about past relationships, had they done a friends-with-benefits relationship before – what to look for – any comments involving the future, or seeing where something goes.
And if she didn’t fully trust what she saw and heard, she’d honed the self-control to decidedly not cross any sexual line, even if she’d been looking forward to the hookup.
She’d been caught in the emotional crosshairs – love confessions, crying, anger, jealousy – far too many times over the years to neglect her process in any way.
Despite all of that, Gianna Mäkinen was on a fucking date right now.
And was having the best time of her adult life, while she was at it.
Because that date was with Riley Jane Beckett.
She threw her head back, laughing uncontrollably, as Riley sang horribly off-tune to We are the Champions, only switching it to I am the champion, as they walked home after leaving Duck’s.
It was almost eleven, meaning they’d been at Duck’s for about four hours. Four hours, a handful of drinks, they’d split several apps and played just about every game there. Gianna’s non-dates never lasted this long because… why would they?
Generally, she didn’t want to hang out one-on-one with anyone for more than a couple of hours unless that person was Riley.
But she was out with Riley. And that made all the difference.
It was Riley’s fingers that were interlaced with her own. Riley’s breath misted in the night air along with hers, as the New England March night dropped to freezing.
It was Riley walking, pressed against her side, that made Gianna feel so fucking warm. Like she was glowing from the inside out.
“You beat me in skeeball tonight. Do you know what that makes our lifelong record?” Gianna asked, even though she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t enjoying Riley’s show of celebration.
Riley’s hazel eyes met her own as she flexed her fingers around Gianna’s. “Yes, I am well aware that our lifelong record is approximately Gianna 100 and Riley 4. But I think that really means I should celebrate my victories all the more.”
Gianna took a moment to think over exactly what Riley said before she nodded. “Your terms are acceptable.”
“I need to take the small victories because when it comes to anything involving any athletic ability at all – strength, speed, aim – we all know you’re the winner,” Riley continued, her eyebrows drawing together and doing that cute thing where a little line formed in the middle.
Riley was very much not wrong.
Gianna laughed, tossing the arm that wasn’t pressed against Riley’s out into the night air. “I said I find your terms agreeable! But, if you recall, you are the one who got way more upset at me when I lost on purpose than when I beat you.”
Because, really, in their relationship tenure, Gianna did beat Riley most of the time when it came to anything physical. On the other hand, Riley frequently beat Gianna whenever they played cards or other games. It was a trade.
But, in their senior year of college, when they’d competed in a field day-esque fundraiser on campus, raising money for breast cancer, Gianna had… maybe… let Riley beat her a little. Mostly because she’d wanted to see the excited, victorious glint in Riley’s eyes in the afternoon sun. So, it wasn’t like she was being entirely altruistic.
The second their race had ended, though, Riley had given Gianna a look. A look that said she knew exactly what Gianna had done, and she wasn’t happy about it. It was close to the look Riley shot her now as they walked home.
“Because I don’t mind when you’re better than me at things,” Riley shot back, the same thing she’d said to Gianna back in college. “And I never want you to pretend you aren’t just as amazing as you really are; that’s the last thing I want.”
Her words were the same, but they took on a softer hint tonight. Something that reflected the soft, sweet look in Riley’s eyes as she looked up at Gianna.
“Even when you beat me in a game, we’re on the same team in life. We always have been.”
Gianna’s heart flip-flopped in her chest, the same as it always did whenever Riley said something like that.