“You’re just walking across the street, dude,” he said, eyeing himself in the mirror. Yet, he wanted to look halfway presentable. It had been ages since he’d asked a woman out—not that he was asking Riley out exactly—and he was damn nervous. He slapped a little cologne on his face while wondering if he should have shaved.
“Enough.” He was making too big a deal over inviting a friend to a celebration dinner. Done with dithering, he walked out onto the porch. Just as he started down the steps, a yellow late-model Mustang turned into Riley’s driveway. A man got out and walked up to her door. Cody retreated into his house. He went into the kitchen and watched as Riley came out and got into the car with the dude. Her boyfriend?
Once the car disappeared down the road, he changed into sweats and a long-sleeve T-shirt. In the kitchen, he poured a tumbler half-full of scotch, eyed it, then decided to allow himself this one night of wallowing in his misery. He filled the glass to the top.
Guitar and drink in hand, he went out on the porch with his dogs. “Go play.” They both tilted their heads and stared up at him, as if they found him confusing. Sally barked once. “Right, the balls.” Cody set the guitar and scotch on the table, reached under it, and pulled out the bag with the balls. He tossed two into the yard and the dogs took off.
For a few minutes, he watched them, but their silliness—which usually cheered him—made him think of Layla. She should be out there with them, fat and happy, but was instead lost somewhere in Afghanistan and likely half-starved, if she was even still alive. He downed a good bit of his drink, and then picked up his guitar. All afternoon, he’d worked to put out of his mind all the shit crashing down on him. Alone on his porch as the sun set, he thought his brain might implode from everything he was trying not to think about.
Where was Layla? Who was Asra? What had he seen in Afghanistan that he couldn’t remember? Was he going to have to lie on a couch and share all his inner thoughts with someone he’d never met? Who the hell was the man with Riley?
As he played his sad songs and drank to numb his mind, the night grew dark. At one point, instead of refilling his glass, he brought the bottle out onto the porch. The dogs had long since fallen asleep at his feet. He drank some more, but sober or drunk, his fingers knew the chords, so he played on. Even though he tried not to watch the dark house across the street, his eyes kept straying in that direction. What if she didn’t come home all night?
The thought of another man holding her, touching her, made him want to go hunt them down and snatch her away. If she had a boyfriend, then he’d been wrong about thinking she was interested. No surprise there. He was wrong about a lot of things these days.
His pity party continued, the alcohol doing a damn good job of pickling his brain. He wasn’t a mean drunk, nor was he a happy one. He got quiet, or even quieter, he should say. Never a talkative man, he had a tendency when drunk to zone out and not think about anything at all, which was why drinking worked for him. He liked that state, probably too much.
A car turned the corner, and Cody watched the Mustang pull into Riley’s driveway. It occurred to him that he should go inside so he wouldn’t see her bring the dude into her house with her, but he didn’t move. The man headed around the front of the car, but Riley didn’t wait for him to help her out. The couple walked to her front door, and if Cody wasn’t mistaken, she glanced toward his house. Was that a good sign, or was she just worried that he was watching her? He gave his dogs a signal to keep quiet.
Riley took out her keys, and the man said something to which she shook her head. When the dude put his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her, Cody’s hand took off on its own and strummed a harsh chord. He made a fist with his wayward hand to keep it from making more mischief.
Riley and her date peered his way. She said something, drawing the man’s attention back to her. Pretty Girl and Sally swept their tails over the wood floor of the porch, their necks straining toward the house across the street. Although tempted to let them go to her, Cody managed to refrain. It was up to Riley what happened next. If she disappeared inside her house with her date, then he’d move tomorrow so he’d never have to watch her with another man again.
If . . .
The guy spoke again before turning and walking to his car. Riley glanced toward his porch once more, and then disappeared inside her house.
Alone.
Riley greeted her cats as she walked toward her bedroom, Pelli clawing his way up her slacks, Arthur circling her feet, and Merlin racing ahead to greet her from his place on the pillow. They weren’t used to her being gone at night and didn’t seem to know what to make of this new development.