His Mafia Queen

Unwanted Changes

RILEY

"I thought you weren't that big of a baseball fan." Beckett glances at me with a sly smile. "But when they hit that double, I think everyone in the stadium heard you cheer. I think that security guard was a little worried about you."

I chortle, thinking of how I got so excited that I nearly fell over the railing. "Normally I'm not but that was so fun. The boozy milkshake? A DJ-ing cat as a mascot? The stingrays in the tank? So good. I'd definitely go again." I can't seem to wipe the smile off my face. "Well, and the 10-1 blowout where the Sox crushed the Rays. That was the best."

Beckett and I are walking into our condo building after parking in the garage. In the hours before the game, I'd second-guessed my decision to go. It seemed like a date, I didn't really know Beckett that well, I was still sad about Gabriel...blah, blah, blah. I had a million excuses about why I shouldn't go.

But I did, and it was awesome. Beckett had treated me like a buddy, not someone he was trying to screw. The game was incredible, and I was now entertaining thoughts of buying season tickets to the Rays. Maybe that would be my new hobby: baseball. I imagined myself going to games, perusing stats, maybe someday meeting a handsome ballplayer...

"I think you're their good luck charm. They've killed it every time you watch, Riley."

"Yeah, right. They shouldn't rely on me for their luck, that's for sure." I stab at the elevator button. "I had a great time, though. Seriously. Thanks for asking me."

The doors slide open and we stroll in. We're the only ones inside, and Beckett presses the button for the twentieth floor.

He shakes his head as the elevator shoots upward. "Why do you say that? You seem to live a pretty charmed life to me."

I snort my disagreement. "Yeah, real charmed. I was dumped by my boyfr..." My voice fades. At the beginning of the night, I'd vowed to myself that I wouldn't bring up Gabriel. Not because I wasn't thinking about him or because I didn't want to talk about him.

I figured it would seem rude to mention him when I was with another guy. Even if that other guy was shaping up to be a friend and not a potential romantic partner.

I look down at my sneakers. "Sorry, nevermind."

The door slides open and we walk down the hall toward my condo.

"Why are you apologizing? You can talk about whatever with me."

We're at my door now, and we pause. I grope around in my bag for my keys. "Thanks, but I'm trying to forget all that."

My fingers hit the keychain and I pull them out. In the process, a wayward receipt flutters out of my purse and to the ground, along with a tube of lip gloss. Flustered, I bend to pick everything up.

So does Beckett. My head collides with his shoulder and we both stand, laughing.

"Sorry," I say.

"No, I'm sorry." We're staring into each other's eyes now. The gloss and receipt are still on the floor. I should probably grab them and get inside, but I feel pinned by Beckett's intense blue gaze.

"You never have to apologize with me." His voice is soft and gentle. Totally opposite of his stare. I can't quite figure out what's going on here. Does he want to kiss me? His tone tells me no.

His eyes say something else entirely. Something I'm not sure I want to deal with in this moment.

"Okay," I whisper. We pause for a beat, still looking at each other. My heart speeds up, as it always does in situations like this with men. "Well, thanks for asking me to the game tonight. You sure you don't want money for the ticket?"