Seven Weeks to Forever (Love / Romance)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Countdown to The Life-After: three weeks.

"Evening, senorita." Riley swoops down into a low bow on my front doorstep. He seems like he's in an awfully good mood.

"The frog left your throat," I comment, holding open the door. "Or did the cat let go of your tongue?"

"The doctor told me I could speak again, so brace yourself." He grins and walks inside. I close the door and lean against it, trying not to let on that I see his eyes sweeping over my face and body.

"You look incredible." His eyes hold mine.

I flush. "You look great too," I murmur, hoping I don't sound as self-conscious as I feel.

We stand there looking at each other. I can almost hear the air crackle as my energy extends out, reaching closer to his. A tiny shock runs through me and I try not to jump. There it is, the energy connection. It's like static electricity tonight. I don't realize I'm light-headed until I try to stop leaning against the door. I need a moment to get it together, someplace where he isn't.

"I just need to get my purse and then we can go," I tell him. I head for my bedroom, hoping I'm not swaying as I walk.

I come back with my purse a minute later and let him lead me out the door. I think I've managed to collect myself until my foot grazes a white feather by the side of the car. Riley doesn't seem to see it. I don't mention it to him, instead giving him a smile as he opens the passenger door for me.

When we're both inside the car and Riley starts the engine, I'm relieved to hear the stereo come to life. We drive without talking for a few minutes, listening to the music.

We're headed into Hollywood before there's a pause in the songs. It must be the end of the playlist. I look over at Riley.

"I never did ask where the show is tonight," I say.

Riley reaches for a button in the middle of the dashboard. Music fills the car again, but he turns the volume down. "Silver Lake, at a place called The Satellite. Ever been there?"

The Satellite wasn't there when I was Anna. "Nope. What is it?" I ask.

He shrugs. "A small club, lots of up-and-coming bands. I like it there."

We drive until I see fewer big buildings on the sides of the street, and more houses. We circle a few of the streets near The Satellite before we find a spot to park.

Once we're inside of The Satellite, we stop at the box office. Riley tells the woman behind the counter that we're on a list and gives her our names. She scans a piece of paper in front of her and then hands each of us a yellow bracelet.

Riley reaches down to grab my hand and leads me to another door that he opens for both of us. I try not to let him catch me looking down at our hands. There are a whole lot of sparks dancing where our fingers are joined, and I'm feeling every one of them.

Shadows linger in every corner inside the bar, with only a hint of light coming from the empty stage and a glassed-in area at the back of the room. By the stage, tiny white lights hang over silver and blue curtains. I think they're going for an outer space vibe, if outer space looked a little bit like the 1970s. Not so many points for the other-worldly experience, but I'm probably just picky about that. I know what other-worldly is like.

I see Riley watching me as we walk farther into bar. Probably wondering if this is my style, I think.

You think wrong. It's Noah's voice I hear. Wonderful. I have a chaperone. Leave it to him to read and answer my thoughts right now.

I didn't exactly invite you along on my da— I stop before I complete the word in my mind and correct myself. I didn't invite you to come with us.

You mean on your date with Riley. I can tell Noah is trying hard not to laugh.

It's not a date.

That's not what he thinks. And just so you're clear, he's watching you now because it matters to him that you have a good time tonight.

"Do you want something to drink?" Riley waves a hand in front of my face when I don't answer. I swat it away.

"Yeah. The bottle of scotch back there will do." I jerk my chin toward the bartender. I manage to keep a straight face for about all of two seconds until I hear Riley laugh.

"I'd like to see what would happen after a few shots of that," he comments.

"Oh would you?" I challenge him. "Any special reason?" I'm baiting him, but somehow I can't help myself.

Hints of pink creep into Riley's cheeks and I choke back a laugh. As his face gets brighter, I feel a whoosh of energy coming at me in a wave. It makes me a little dizzy and I wonder what it is, until I focus in on my energy and see the intense dance his energy is having with mine. Little gold and pink sparks pop up in the space where our energy meets. This is even stronger than it was a few minutes ago.

He clears his throat. "I just meant that you'll probably be a lightweight, given how tiny you are." He stares straight ahead at the bar, by all appearances examining the bottles on the shelves that line the back wall. I have a feeling he can't look at me.

"Any particular train of thought I should follow about what me being a lightweight would mean?" If I could, I'd do a double-take at myself. Since when do I flirt? That's something Anna did.

This is a bad idea, I remind myself. I wait for Noah to chime in and tell me this is exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, but he's suspiciously silent.

"Choose your own adventure," Riley tells me. A wicked grin lights up his face for just a second, but then he seems to think about what he's saying and the grin disappears. Great. He clearly needs to stop thinking.

"What does that mean?" I ask. He's looking at the bottles behind the bar again, though, and pretends not to hear me. Hmm. Let's try something else. "You're probably right, you know."

That grabs his attention. "I'm right about something?"

"Don't let it go to your head. Even broken clocks are right twice a day."

"That sounds a little more like the Cassidy I know. So what'll it be?"

"Soda water with lemon."

"Let's make that two," he says. He lets go of my hand and steps up to the bar. I stay rooted in place, watching him talk to the bartender. Our energy is still connected but it feels a little less intense with his hand no longer holding mine. I know that it's all in my mind, though, because I can see how strongly our energy is now woven together. It stays as strong as it was when we were holding hands, and it might even be getting stronger.

I walk up beside him at the bar just as he pulls his phone out from his jacket pocket and starts to type. I can't tell if he even notices that I'm beside him again. I could pull out my phone and do the same, but I'm not really sure who I'd text. Not knowing what else to do, I pretend to look around the bar again. I'm awkward at the best of times, but being on a date seems to bring this to a completely new level.

Told you so. There's Noah again.

Not a date, I correct myself.

Whatever you say, he tells me, and he sounds more than amused. Curse him.

It takes about thirty more seconds to run out of things to look at, so I turn my head back to Riley. He notices me this time and looks up from his phone.

"I'm just texting John to tell him we're here."

I nod, silently thanking the bartender when he appears in front of us and sets two glasses of soda water down on top of the counter. Riley pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and puts a few bills down on the counter. I wonder if I should be offering to pay for my drink, or the tip at least, since this isn't a date—is it?

Not a word, Noah, I think, before he can chime in with his opinion again.

Riley's fingers brush against mine and I nearly jump at the little tingles of energy when he takes my hand.