Off Limits

7. YOU

I let her have her moment. "Don't be sorry," I said, trying to comfort her. "I'm sorry that your parents don't see how great you guys are. It's their loss, but don't give up. Things are always bad before they get better, and I know it's coming."

"How do you know?" she asked with a small laugh.

I shrugged and smiled. "I just do," I answered.

"Maybe I'll give them one more chance."

♡

As promised, the next morning, I made sure to beat Joey downstairs for our morning run. I wasn't sure if he remembered or even cared to run after his activities last night. I was sure he had plenty of exercise, but I waited anyway. I had on a matching blue sports bra and yoga pants set with my hair in a ponytail. I even made a cup of coffee, drank it, and still was waiting for him.

As soon as I heard footsteps, I knew it was Joey. "It's 9:10. You're late," I confidently said. Once again, he didn't have a shirt on, and his hair was all over his head.

He laughed and sent a smile to me. "Let me get coffee, and we're good," he husked in a deep, sleepy voice.

I stopped him and jogged in front of the coffee maker. "No. Coffee is for people who aren't ten minutes late. We're good now," I declared with a shoulder pop. I gulped and tilted my head back to catch his gaze as he smirked at me. I waited for his reaction, but he couldn't rip his vision away from me. And I wanted to hate it because he just had sex with a random woman last night. But my body did its own thing, anyway.

"Okay," Joey agreed, wetting his lips. "Let's go."

I annoyingly brushed past him and held the door. "After you, Joe," I exclaimed, hating the random nickname that slipped from my mouth. Why would I call him that?

We walked outside to the driveway, and I waited for him to say something in response. "My nickname is actually Joey, not Joe," he corrected, as I narrowed my eyebrows.

"So, your name—"

He cut me off. "It's Joseph."

I started stretching, bending my leg to my back from behind. "Well, Joseph, I'm Riley," I joked, making myself laugh. He began stretching too, every muscle in his torso and back flexing.

"No shit. What's your middle name?" he asked me, jumping up in place. Was this him trying to get to know me?

"Michelle."

I exhaled, feeling the morning wind pierce my skin. I already had way too much energy this morning for no reason, but it motivated me to start and finish this run. Maybe I would like it and continue to keep doing it or never try it again.

"You ready for this run, Angel?" Joey teased, giving me a random nickname next. 

I stood still and sucked in my bottom lip. "Angel? No one ever called me that before. I see maybe Rys or Riles, and sometimes my mom calls me Shelly, but Angel?" I questioned, not admitting that it gave me a tingling feeling in my stomach.

He took off without warning. "I said you were going to be the death of me," he joked, which was actually pretty corny. I doubled my speed to catch up to him, knowing I would be out of breath in seconds. That was the most exercise I did in a long time besides going swimming the other day. I could feel I was seconds away from panting like a damn dog, and it wouldn't have been pretty.

I sucked in a large breath of air. "I hope this is what you meant by less clothes and sweating," I stated, swinging my arms back and forth as I kept up. My hair stuck to my back as I always worked up a sweat. This was definitely what he meant.

The run didn't even affect him. He kept the same pace and was still in front of me. "Judging by the amount of clothes you have on, that's definitely . . . not it," he sarcastically replied.

Twenty minutes later, we had circled to the house and entered through the side door in the kitchen. My heart felt like it wanted out, viciously pounding against my chest. I was heaving for air, and it felt like it wasn't reaching my lungs.

I stomped to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. Joey made his proud cup of coffee while I crushed my drink and tried to catch my breath. Embarrassing.

"Thank you for inviting me along. It was a good distraction," I said through heavy breathing, using a napkin to wipe my neck and chest. After, I leaned my elbow on the counter, inches away from him, watching his stomach deflate as he breathed.

"Distraction from what?"

"Your type doesn't get personal, Joseph," I spat, fanning myself off with my left hand.

A charming smile formed. "My type?" he questioned with a look of curiosity. His reaction was priceless and amused for no reason. Not once did he give up that mischievous grin, and I wasn't falling for it.

"You know, the sexy-womanizing-big-ego type," I answered, not thinking before speaking.

The charming smile turned deadly. "So, you think I'm sexy, then?" Well. I fell for it.

I excused myself but looked over my shoulder and said, "You proved my point." I took my slow, lazy ass time up the steps to shower.

♡

I turned the TV off after Sam, and I finished the Netflix show You. We didn't have any plans today and lounged around the house all day.

"Wow, Dan really turned into a creepy-stalker-serial-killer, didn't he?" Sam said, rolling over onto her back.

I let out a low chuckle. "Sam, he played Dan in Gossip Girl. His name was Joe in this show. And to answer your other question, yes, Dan really turned into a creepy-stalker-serial-killer," I mused, shocked at what happened that crazy-ass season. Shows like that confused me because you want to hate Joe. After all, he was a crazy killer, but I couldn't dislike him. I guessed that made me crazy too, but I felt for him. The man just wanted to find love. And then when he did, the bitch was crazy.

Sam nodded after I cleared her confusion and loudly groaned. We had been binge-watching TV for the last few hours after my run and shower when Sam had an itch for Netflix. And popcorn. Can't forget that.

I puffed my cheeks and sat straight up. "So, what do we do now?" I asked, wanting to be productive. I exercised this morning and ate more than my body weight in snacks.

"Uh, let's go see what dumb, dumber, and stupid is doing," she joked, pushing herself off the bed. She ran out of the room before I could even get up.

As soon as I got halfway down the steps, I could hear the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and the occasional "Kill that asshole!"

When I finally reached the battlefield, Joey, Dylan, and Cameron played a video game with their eyes glued to the mounted TV. Cameron was on the ground. Joey had his legs stretched across the sectional, and Dylan damn near sat on the edge with his legs cocked open.

Sam trailed around the couch and bent down to kiss all over her boyfriend's face. Joey took a double take at me and shot me a wicked smile.

Then I heard a loud boom, and Joey looked back at the screen. "Sam, get your big ass head out of the way," he said, messing with his sister. She gave him the finger. 

Cam was too interested in the game, as he kept ducking and dodging her kisses. "Babe! Come on. We're trying to play, and I can't die," he shouted.

"But I want to play with you," she said to him in a flirty manner. "Show me attention."

"Yo. Cameron, you gotta watch my back, bro," Joey yelled next. "If you die, that's one-hundred push-ups."

Sam and I looked back and forth at each other, trying to figure out why they were that into a damn video game. I would never understand that logic.

"Fine. Play your stupid game," my best friend huffed and stomped back over to me. "Riley and I are going out." We are?

"Yeah, pepperoni sounds good," Cameron said. Yeah, not listening.

Sam grabbed my hand and pulled me back toward the staircase. "Come on, Ry. We're going out tonight."