Page 17 of Right Where You Left Me

Sage

T he street lights above us are twinkling like tiny stars, making her hair shine in the night.

She looks otherworldly. Fucking perfect .

As if she actually is an actual tiny elf brought to life from a story book.

She’s beaming that gorgeous smile at everyone we meet, taking the time to appreciate each artist’s work.

She’s just so genuinely sweet. It’s hard to reconcile this version of her with the version of her that’s been in my mind for so long.

She’s not selfish, not cruel. She’s just…

Emma. Endearing, kind hearted, Emma. The girl I fell so hard for.

“Can we go look at the pottery over there?” She asks, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Some of her hair has fallen in effortless little wisps that frame her face.

She’s in that leather jacket again, and it’s killing me.

It’s taking everything in me to not grab her hand and hold it tightly.

To wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her as close to my body as I can in public.

I want to stake my claim so that all the other people here tonight know that she’s spoken for.

Which of course, is insane. She’s her own person and can see whoever she wants.

She isn’t mine. Regardless of what my stupid caveman brain thinks.

We’re finally over all the bullshit and I can’t ruin it.

Tonight, I am just a friend. I am not going to cave and start feeling things that I know I shouldn’t for her.

I can do that. Easy peasy, lemon— whatever the fuck people say.

“Of course we can. Whatever you want, Em.” I say, hooking my arm through hers. Okay, so maybe I’m being too friendly. But, this is fine…

Emma swoons over a bowl she finds at the potter’s booth.

It’s a large salad bowl in beautiful greens.

I’m watching her enthusiastically gesture at all the different pieces on the table, bewitched by the happiness pouring out of her, when River leans down and whispers in my ear, “You have it so bad for her.”

“Shut your trap.” I hiss. “I do not.” Fuck this big softie that can read me like a goddamn book.

He chuckles and stands back up at his full height. “Yeah, you do. But that’s okay, I think she likes you too.”

I suck in a breath and hold it until it hurts.

He’s just teasing me because he can. She doesn’t like me like that, and even if she did, I promised myself I wouldn’t let her hurt me again.

I’m not going to put myself in that situation.

It’s— it’s terrifying. Truly, and utterly fear inducing and I know that I’m not brave enough for this.

I’m a fucking coward. “Do you think—” I start and River gives me an encouraging smile.

I clear my throat and try again. “Do you think it would be different this time?” I ask and my voice comes out small.

“I don’t know, cheri.” He says softly. “But I do know that she lights up when she looks at you. I don’t think that’s nothing.”

“She’s just friendly.” I say again, remembering the night at the bar all those weeks ago saying those same words to Peyton. “She’s a bubbly, bright person.”

“Mm.” River says noncommittally. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Yeah.” I say weakly.

I let out a shaky breath, forcing all the fear and emotion down as deeply as I can.

There is no reason to be feeling like this tonight, a night that’s full of joy and friends and watching that girl shine as she takes it all in.

I watch Emma grab the bowl, tapping her card to pay for it, before she rejoins us.

“I debated waiting to buy this until we were leaving so I didn’t have to carry it around all night since I already have to carry the birdhouse, but I worried it would be gone if I did, so,” She shrugs, “lugging them both around won out.”

River rolls his eyes and makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hand. “I’ll carry them.”

“What, no. I wasn’t complaining, I can carry?—”

“Emma. Give him your stuff. He will be insufferable if you don’t let him help. He loves to do shit for people, honestly.”

“I do, Emma.” He says with wholesome seriousness. “You’ll actually be helping me out if you let me. Let me carry it, s'il te pla?t.”

“Okay…” She says slowly, handing him the bowl gently and once it’s tucked in his arm she hands him the birdhouse. “You speak French?”

River laughs and nods. “Oui, je le fais. I grew up speaking both. My maman is from Giverny. Met my dad there when he was backpacking across Europe on some self discovery artist trip in his early twenties, and he somehow convinced her to move to Chicago when he left to go back to America.” He says with a shrug.

His eyes flick down the street and back to Emma quickly.

“But, actually, you know what you can do to thank me for carrying your new treasures?”

She quirks a brow in question.

“You can join me to go look right over there at one of the artist’s tables I wanted to check out. I saw on his Instagram he was going to be here tonight, and I want to see some of his work.”

“Check out.” I cough out, and Emma giggles. Warmth pulls in my gut at the noise. Fuck, do I want to hear her make that sound way more often.

“Any particular reason why you want to go and see his artwork , River?” Peyton asks with a teasing lilt to her voice. His cheeks are bright red and he tries to glare at us.

“No.” He mumbles. “I just— His paintings are really good. Can we just go look without the third degree please?”

“Of course, River.” Emma says brightly. “Lead the way.”

“At least one of you is nice.” River grumbles.

“I’m plenty nice.” I say defensively.

River cackles. “Sure you are.”

“Mother fu?—”

“I think you’re nice.” Emma says softly.

“To you.” River says with a loud laugh.

I can feel my cheeks heating and I clear my throat, trying to get rid of whatever this warmth in my chest is.

“Thanks, Em.” I mumble. “C’mon. Let’s go so River can flirt and we can move on with our night.

” I follow the two of them toward the back row of artists at the end of the street, Peyton trailing behind me snickering at me.

The closer we get, the more River fidgets and once we’re in the short line that leads to the booth I can see why.

The banner hanging in front says ‘Levi Moreland’ in a bold and modern font and sitting behind the table is a man who is exactly River’s type.

His blonde curls hang behind his ears, giving him that surfer dude look without trying.

Blue eyes shining in the lights like sapphires.

He’s lean, wearing an eccentric button up with the top two buttons undone.

He’s sitting down as he greets the people approaching, but I can tell he can’t be much taller than I am.

And River is just standing there staring at him.

I nudge him hard, with my elbow. “Go talk to him.” I mock whisper, and that seems to knock him back to reality. He steps forward, smiling with bright red cheeks, and starts chatting with Levi.

Emma, Peyton, and I walk a little down the street to give him some privacy. I know we were giving him shit about flirting, but I don’t want to make him more nervous with us standing where we can hear what they’re saying.

“So, I see you guys made up. Thank God.” Peyton says to Emma and me, but she’s staring down at her phone.

“We sure did.” I huff a laugh. “I’m sorry. Are we boring you?” I ask, tapping her phone screen because I know it annoys the shit out of her.

She rolls her eyes. “Stop it. You’re worse than a fucking toddler. I’m trying to get concert tickets.”

“Concert tickets?—”

“Yeah, I’m going to need the sixteenth off next month.

” She says, her thumbs tapping away without missing a beat.

“Probably the seventeenth too. You know, in case I need to recoup. I think River’s sisters are going with me too.

Amelie was the one who introduced me to this band.

They’re local and apparently people think they’re going to be the next big thing. At least, Amelie does.”

I chuckle and look at Emma who is clearly trying to hold her own laugh in. “Of course, Peyton. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on seeing ‘the next big thing’ live. Although I don’t know how we’re going to survive a day without you in the shop. Whoever will keep our lives organized?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“Manage what?” River asks, rejoining us with flushed cheeks, shining eyes, and a grin.

He has a wrapped print settled inside Emma’s salad bowl, which isn’t surprising.

He already has Levi’s work hanging all over his side of the shop.

He thinks he’s slick, but I know he’s been crushing on that guy for a long, long time.

“Peyton is taking a couple days off next month. She’s apparently going to a concert with the girls.”

“Oh, sure, sure.” He says nodding, “Yeah, I think Amelie told me about that already.” He adds, not so subtly turning back to look at Levi who smirks and waves.

“Get his number?” Peyton asks. “That’s the whole reason you wanted to come tonight, right? To flirt with the hottie?”

That gets a groan out of River. “No.” He mumbles. “I mean… not entirely.” He says, shooting one more look at Levi.

“But you got the digits?” Peyton teases.

“Yeah, yeah. I got them.” He says and chuckles. “Okay, c’mon. I know there’s more shit you guys want to look at and have me tote around.”

We joke and tease, browse some art, and grab another drink as the night goes on. Emma’s been glued to my side all night, and I hate that I don’t hate it. I want to grab her hand, entwine our fingers together in a way that feels like they’re meant to be, but I don’t. I shouldn’t .

God, do I want to.

“Anything else you want to go and look at?” I ask Emma after we pass by a few tables without her slowing down or taking a closer look. Her eyes are still pinging to every artist she sees and I know she won’t speak up if she wants to stop.