Off Limits

22. Marriage & Skateboards

Riley: Don't say it like it's a bad thing ;)

"Fuck," I breathed. I was not expecting that.

"What are you wearing tonight?" Dylan asked from the doorway to my bedroom.

I was so surprised by her texts that I didn't even hear my brother open my door. "Probably my navy suit. I really don't want to go, though." I breathed out.

Dylan leaned against the door frame. "I know. Me neither. Let's just try to make it a good night. You know, have some fun. Maybe drink a little too much and fuck up the event?" He joked, but I was pretty much thinking the same thing.

Dylan left the room, and I frowned as I thought about the upcoming event. Riley was going to bring Chris. I couldn't blame her, since she couldn't go with me. I had no clue who I would even invite, but I couldn't show up alone.

One thing was for sure. If anyone was going to be kissing her tonight . . . it was going to be me.

~~

When I got back from my late run, Dylan was skateboarding in the driveway. I keep telling him he needs to go pro, but he didn't think he had what it took yet. I laughed when he tried to perfect his kickflip but almost fell.

"Still can't get it?" I jokingly asked.

He kicked his board up and caught it in his hands. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing wrong. I think I just need a new board." He exhaled, annoyance in his eyes.

"It's not the board, bro," I quipped.

Dylan opened his Red Bull and sat beside me. "Fuck it."

I chugged my bottle of water I had from my run and laughed. "Remember we would stay up and play that damn Tony Hawk game all night?"

"That was the main reason I started boarding. Yo, he was my idol. Now, you don't hear shit about him." Dylan shrugged like he was losing hope, but he's talented.

Dylan and I talked, going down memory lane. He tried to teach me how to skateboard countless times, but it never clicked. I was more into the gym, but Dylan hates working out. He only comes because I pick on how small he is.

"Y'all got a second?" Cameron appeared with a bag dangling near his legs. He paced down the walkway, standing in front of us both. "You think this is the one?"

Cameron has bought like three engagement rings for Sam but has taken them back, claiming they're not really her. He opened the small black box and flashed a small ring with three diamonds entangled into one. It was almost blinding from the sunlight glistening off the ring.

"Damn, that's her for sure. How much did that thing cost you?" I asked.

"Just know it maxed out my credit card," Cameron said with wide eyes. I couldn't believe my little sister would be getting married. And I'm happy it's to Cameron.

We laughed in sync, pulling Cam into a manly hug. I pat his back, not believing this moment. He has my blessing for sure. She's been through hell and back with men, and Cameron is a decent dude.

"That is sick! She's going to love it. I can't believe my younger sister is getting married before me," Dylan added, and I agreed.

Cameron laughed. "I feel good about this one."

"When are you going to propose?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I want to make her day special, and I may need everyone's help."

Dylan spoke. "You know we're in. Are you going to tell Riley?"

"I think I have to. I hope she doesn't run her big-ass mouth. I remember I asked Riley for help on Sam's birthday last year, and fucking Riley told Sam. She knew everything I had planned."

I wet my lips. "Women."

Dylan asked, "How did you even know you wanted to get married? You just wake up . . . wanting to?"

"I don't know, I guess? Nothing else really interests me out here. I can't really see myself without Sam." Cam said as I nodded.

Dylan blew a raspberry. "I don't see myself being with the same girl. Maybe I just didn't find someone worth thinking of marriage with."

Ignoring Dylan, I smiled at Cam. "Welcome to the family."

He laughed. "Well, I'm not in the family yet. She could say no."

Dylan sucked his teeth. "You know damn well that's not happening."

I casually checked my phone, waiting for Riley to reply, but she never did. All she does is read messages and probably forgets about them. I did have messages from everyone but her:

I only answered Krista because I decided to take her to the ball as my date. Krista was fun. She had long, curly, almost fawn-colored hair, with big green eyes. I typed my passcode on my phone to view her text messages.

Krista: What color should I wear? I have a super sexy white dress?

Krista: Or black?

Krista: Joey?

Krista: I'm going to send you a picture. Let me know if you like . . . or want more ; )

She sent a picture of her white lace dress and a picture topless, covering her breasts. I figured I could reply later. I don't really care what she wears. Or doesn't wear.