Seven Weeks to Forever (Love / Romance)

Epilogue: Chapter Forty-Three

He tastes like spearmint and sunshine, and that's the only thing I'm aware of as my eyes close and the city lights become a distant galaxy. It's all him and me, the crush of our lips and bodies together, and the dizzying way kissing him causes time and space to disappear. His breathing becomes shallow and ragged, and mine does too. I know I look just as delirious and dazed as he does when we finally break apart, both of us gulping in the evening air.

This time it's me who laughs, and it's from the sheer joy of the moment, and these feelings, and experiencing this with him. He puts his forehead against mine, both of us grinning like fools.

"Should we head over to the El Rey now?" he asks.

"What time does the concert start?"

"Nine-thirty."

I suspect he's left out option two, which is to keep doing what we were just doing until the end of days. And trust me, that's going to happen at some point. As tempting as it is to turn the car around and head back to my house to pick up where we've left off, the logical part of me says we should probably try to be civilized people. Plus, the band we're seeing is one that recorded at Riley's family's studio, and they put us on the guest list. A no-show would probably be noticed.

"To be continued," I tell him. He laces his fingers with mine, and we walk back to the car.

* * *

There's a line that stretches down the block when we get to the El Rey, but we skip it thanks to being on the list and stroll inside to claim a spot near the stage. I'm reminded of the last show we went to together, at The Satellite, only this time it's definitely a date and I don't have Noah goading me for claiming otherwise.

Tonight Riley stands behind me, his chin resting on my head and his arms circled around me while we watch the opening act. The singer on stage is a young woman about my age. It's just her and her guitar, and I'm awed by how masterfully she plays it while she sings.

"She commands that guitar," I say, after she finishes her last song. "I don't think I could play that well in a million years, even if I practiced every day."

Riley drops a kiss on the crown of my head. "You're underselling yourself. I've heard you play, remember?"

"Once," I remind him. "You've heard one unfinished song I was messing around with."

"And I'd love to hear it again some time. We could try writing lyrics for it."

I turn around so I can see if he's being serious. He sure looks like he is. "Only if you're the one singing. I couldn't stay on key if my life depended on it."

Amusement dances across his face. "So you've said. I'm not sure I believe you."

"Oh no?" I challenge. "I was the triangle and maracas girl every year in grade school. They figured out early it was better for me to play an instrument than to sing."

"Likely story. I still want to hear this for myself." His eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Not happening, mister, and it's better for your eardrums that you don't. Ask Selena."

The words pop out of my mouth without a second thought. I don't realize what I've said until a few seconds have passed and I notice Riley's bewildered expression.

"Selena?" He sounds confused. "Do you mean my neighbor who works at your yoga place?"

Oh boy. I scramble to think of a way I can answer him without what I say leading to more questions. Nothing good comes to mind.

"That's the one." I mentally cross my fingers and hope the rest of this conversation goes well. With any luck, the band he knows will take the stage soon and save me from this giant hole I've just dug for myself.