Riley's POV

Waking up with a jolt, I suck in a desperate gasp of air like I'm dying. I'm spread eagle on my back, my body covered in a cold boozy sweat. Something barks loudly in my ear, each bark feeling like a hammer ramming against my skull.

"Shoo." I wave the puppy away, only to be bitten. It'd hurt if his teeth weren't the equivalent of baby teeth.

"You have too much damn spunk for such a little body." I groan, petting his furry head till his jaw unclamps from my hand. My stomach painfully knots up, bile burns as it threatens to come up, my mouth waters as my jaw cramps up. Slowed down with a pounding headache, I sluggishly make a break for the bathroom, bumping into the door in my haste. Landing in a messy heap in front of the toilet, I barely have my neck bent as I puke up all the bottles of booze I forced down last night. Perhaps there's some left over liquor from Nate's party in there too. Though, I can't really think straight with my head in a toilet.

After emptying my stomach, I wobbly get on my feet, and brush my teeth twice for good measure. I shield my eyes from the too bright light, peering through my fingers to find Jamie cooking the in the kitchen. With her back to me, she expertly works the chopping board with the sleeves of her beige sweater rolled up her freckled elbows. The puppy sits by her feet, eating out of a bowl labeled Killer.

"It's good to have something to drink after throwing up." She says over her shoulder, catching me watching her. Following her instruction, I slowly fill up a big glass of water, not able to help brushing against her in the cramped kitchen.

"You're speaking to me?" I cautiously ask, looking at her over the rim of my glass.

"I'm not seven, so yes. There's a difference between having nothing to say, and blatantly ignoring." She answers. "And it's Thanksgiving." Her voice softens.

"Oh, um, happy thanksgiving..." I mumble, taking a big gulp of water.

"And I don't hate you." She adds, finally facing me. Her voice isn't full of malice nor spite, her green eyes aren't shooting a dirty look, and instead of a harsh look, her freckled face is calm. My headache lessons a bit, my heart soars, every good emotion I've ever felt doubles.

She doesn't hate me.

Relief swells, then vanishes. Last night was pointless if she doesn't. Hate me, Jamie. She should. She needs to. You don't pine or cry or try for people you hate. Instead, the hatred powers you to get away from it as fast you can. You don't miss things you hate. Every thing makes sense when you hate people.

"I have feelings for you, Riley." An ugly feeling in me instantly fills me up.

"Jamie-"

"You're in love with someone else." She continues with a nod. "That's it. You're in love with some very lucky girl. I have to respect that, because you're not obligated to love anyone back if they have feelings for you. Just like if another guy said he loved me, I don't have to love him back. So, I ask that you respect my feelings. They're established, they're real, and I'm going to deal with them, because that's just life." Her speech is strong with clarity, and comfort.

"I can still live here?" I inquire. If she hated me she'd kick me out last night.

"It's your home too, Riley. You pay rent. You live here." There's still is not a trace of loathing radiating off her. "But I'm taking my room back. Boundaries would be best from now on. The living room can be your room. I just ask that you keep it clean, and you fix the hole you made in the wall." It wasn't a demand, but it was firm and steady.

"Hole?" What hole? Fuck, I broke the damn wall? Now I have to fix the wall, and the lock.

"More importantly, no more one night stands. I don't bring in random guys, same goes for you. Please respect my eyes and ears." She adds in a joke, and offers a grin.

Things between us are altered, nothing will be the same again. Home is different. Every inch of space between us is different. We're the ones of who changed it.

But I'm realizing that change might be better than nothing at all.

"Ok." I nod, the movement worsening my headache.

"Happy thanksgiving." She smiles, turning back to cooking.

------

Working with a hangover is close to unbearable. Every thought, every action makes it worse. Regardless, I bend over the door, installing a spanking new set of knobs. I make sure not to lean against the wall, or I'll undo the freshly applied plaster in the hole I just patched up.

The apartment smells of turkey, the mouth watering aroma making me want to puke, yet also stuff my face. Jamie left in a haste since she was low on some kind of baking ingredient for pie. It's my job to monitor the turkey, while moving into the living room. Jamie said to keep my room clean, and a broken knob and a hole in the wall are not considered tidy.

I wonder where I can stash my gun. I've kept it unloaded under my side of the bed. Sometimes I'd hide it in my boots, or tucked between folded stacks of clothes. I'm lucky Jamie hasn't found it yet. Very, very lucky since she's always cleaning. If I'm in the apartment, I'd usually kept it hidden. If I'm not home, then my glock is under my seat in my car. I can't hide in the room anymore, but the question is, where can I hide my gun in the freaking living room? It's the main room, Jamie has access to all the time, others are entertain in here. Chantel sat on the end cushion that I'd hide it under, so it's a no.

Till I can think of a better spot, I abandon my work with the door and pull my gun out of my waistband. I hide it under behind the toilet, stashing it behind half empty shampoo bottles.

Just as I straighten up, my phone goes off.

"Nate, you said you'd give me the week off." I groan into the phone. I should have known he'd go back on his word. Drug dealers don't get off on holidays. Dead beat clients are either provoked by families and need to cope, or don't have any and need something to do.

"Knuckles." My breath hitches. My palms get sweaty. My heart pounds so loud I can barely hear the call.

"Come get me."

"I'm on my way." I run out of the apartment, taking two steps at a time on the stairs. Hearing Killer scratch on the door, barking after me.

-------

My heart pounds as I wait in my in a pitch dark alley. I anxiously drum my fingers on the steering wheel to the pounding of my heart. I've been here for forty minutes, waiting, waiting, waiting.

I'll wait forever if I have to.

"Hi there, Knuckles." The car door opens. My heart leaps. Her tall, slim body lowers into my seat, her brown waves hanging around her beautiful face. I catch her bright blue eyes through the dark, and I just gaze into them, loving their ocean like characteristics. One gaze from them and I'm the happiest I've been all day. I feel alive in their gaze.

"Drive." She nudges her cute chin at the windshield. My fingers twist the keys in the ignition, and I floor it out of the alley. I have no fucking clue why she called me. I don't have the slightest idea where she wants me to drive to. And I don't care.

I feel adrenaline. I feel excitement.

------

As I climb up the stairs, I feel on top of the world. And my world comes crashing down when we reach the top step. Jamie stands waiting by the door, a plastic shopping bag in one hand, a stack of mail in the other. Her green eyes have an anxious gleam, and her freckled face has frown lines. She must have been watching for hours.

"I'm locked ou-" she immediately clamps her mouth shut when she notices I'm not alone. Swallowing thickly, I try to ignore the guilty feeling of my stomach dropping.

"Yeah," I glance down at a sleeping Robin, who I piggy back up the stairs. "I fixed the lock." Jamie's mouth starts to form questions that start with a why. Gingerly shifting Robin's weight, I one handily fish the new keys out of my pocket.

"Mhmm," Robin stirs. "Is the ride over?" She drunkly hops down. The recognition is obvious in Jamie's green eyes as she stares down Robin.

"Like what you see?" Robin smiles at Jamie, her smoky black eye makeup smudged around her eyes. "Whose this, Knuckles?" Robin questions. Decked out in a dark blue crop top that's more of a bra than a top, and too short black short shorts, with fishnet stockings under, Robin leans against the wall like she owns the building.

"Knuckles?" Confused, Jamie focuses on Robin's nickname for me.

"Is she another one of your girls you sleep with for a free Airbnb?" Robin asks, ignoring Jamie's question. Robin didn't it say to make Jamie jealous, but in an effort to reveal a shitty guy who has indeed done that to a string of other women. Unfortunately, Jamie's feelings are collateral damage. Jamie's arms come up to hug herself, her freckled face going as red as her hair.

"Shame." Robin rolls her blue eyes at me. "You look like a very nice girl." Robin gives Jamie's shoulder a squeeze. Still red in the face, Jamie gawks up at Robin hovering over her at 5'6.

"Robin," I call her off of Jamie. "Jamie and I are nothing like that. Like I said in the car, I pay rent for my place."

"But you two have definitely slept together."
Robin chuckles. "It's as obvious as the sun in the sky." She smirks. I hurriedly unlock the door, my nerves mixing in with a sudden sense of impending doom make the hairs on the back stand on end. Killer immediately runs out, and bites on Jamie's and I's ankles, his way of saying "screw you for leaving me alone so long." A foul burning stench follows out from behind Killer, plaguing our noses.

Oh no.

"You didn't." Jamie sighs, shooting me a warning look as she runs past me into the kitchen. At the speed of light, Jamie shoves on oven mitts over her gloves, and pries out a charred turkey from the smoky oven.

"I'm sorry." I immediately apologize. "I'm sorry, Jamie."

"You were supposed to take it out," Jamie frowns down at her watch. "Over an hour ago."

"No amount of gravy is going to make that appetizing." Robin snorts down at the burnt Thanksgiving meal. Killer barks up at Robin, unsure of who this drunk girl is. "Maybe we use in a game of thanksgiving football. You know, throw the old pig skin around."

Bark, bark, bark.

"I wasn't home. I forgot. I got busy with..." I risk a glance at Robin. "Something important."

Bark, bark, bark.

"I think we need some fresh air." In an attempt to calm things down, Robin opens the window over the kitchen sink.

Bark, bark, bark.

"And what was that?" Jamie throws down her mitts onto stove, the first real sign of aggression I've ever seen her done. Maybe if I hadn't ruin a holiday she wouldn't be so hurt. Maybe if I hadn't slept with her at all she wouldn't be so upset.

Bark, bark, bark.

"Me." Robin sobers up. Killer ceases barking, just in time to allow us to hear Robin. "I had an emergency. Riley came when I called him." Robin crosses her arms over, and stands her ground.

"Then you tell me what was your emergency that had Riley gone for so many hours." Jamie rubs her temples.

"I robbed a convenience store." Robin's answer makes Jamie's jaw drop. "Correction. The guy I fucked on his motorcycle held the owner at gun point, while I stole all the donuts and booze. The guy couldn't handle it, and threaten me with the very gun, and demanded my share. The nerve." Robin shrugs as if she's talking about a story of a fond trip to a museum with a funny twist ending. "Riley was my get away driver. Though, he didn't know that till now." She says, looking bored.

She's lying. I had an idea when we drove past the store when it was being swarmed by squad cars, and a buff guy was being arrested outside of it. I just didn't care to ask. A crime scene and Robin in one place was too much a coincidence. Chaos goes hand in hand with Robin.

"... Are you okay?" Jamie asks, stepping forward to give Robin a hug.

"I need a place to crash at. That bastard must be out on bail by now, and is probably looking for me." Robin takes a step back, dodging Jamie's out stretched arms. "And a beer wouldn't hurt." Robin adds. Behind Robin, I shoot Jamie a pleading look, silently begging her.

"Only because it's Thanksgiving." Jamie caves with a sigh.

"I was right about you. You are nice. Like actually nice and mean it, and that is very hard to come by." Robin says, inspecting Jamie with a grin. Speechless, Jamie self consciously and clumsy tucks her red hair behind her ears.

"Call in some food." Jamie orders me, and since I know what's best for me, comply. Pretty sure I'm close to being kicked out. "I'm going to clean this up." Jamie steps around me to fetch her army of cleaning supplies she keeps in the bathroom.

I suck in a deep breath. I'm relieved. A deafening boom. A scream.

Oh no. With a barking Killer on my heels, I burst out into a run with Robin behind me. I find a shaking Jamie in a heap on the bathroom floor, my unloaded gun lying at her feet.

"Crap. The safety wasn't on." I admit under my breath. Jamie looks up at me with a look of pure panic. "It wasn't loaded though." I add as I help her up.

"You've kept a gun in my apartment?" She shakingly accuses.

"Right to bare arms." Robin shrugs, she herself use to living with concealed firearms. Jamie clutches her red head like she's holding it together.

"I need a minute." Jamie storms past me. "No, I need twenty minutes." She adds, making her way to the door.

"Wait." Robin calls her to a stop.

"What now?" Jamie sighs in exasperation. Robin pulls out a thick wad of crisp bills out of her pocket.

"If you're leaving, return this for me?" She offers it out to Jamie. "At least someone else's Thanksgiving won't be too ruined." Robin had her fun, now that her buzz is gone, she doesn't want that convenience store owner's money or misery. Nodding in understanding, Jamie takes the wad.

"Give me all the money in your wallet." Jamie holds out her hand out to me, giving me an intense look I've never seen before. Robin nods, agreeing with Jamie.

As I empty out my wallet, I can't help but think how funny this is, because I'm pretty sure I've said those words to her. And those very words are what got us here, a ruined relationship, a ruined thanksgiving with a drunk girl and a barking dog, and me peppered stray.

Robin and Riley mood board:

Some of you are reading this with a black and white prospective, instead of acting relating to it. And that makes writing out my character development difficult.

Yes, Riley is going out of his way to do stupid things, BUT he's making mistakes. His actions, though fueled with good intentions of pushing someone away he cares about to spare them are misguided, good intention mistakes. He has many throughout the entire book, and you're damn right he'll make more, because it is human to make mistakes.
Haven't you made mistakes? Haven't you hurt others without meaning to? Because I know I have, and will make more till the day I die, and that's alright. Mistakes are human.

While Jamie's mistakes are not her being mindful or big enough to forgive and not let anyone ruin herself. It is that she's cares so damn much that she wanted to take a mugger she pepper sprayed to the ER, but he wouldn't let her.

So, I ask each of you, instead of being "Riley is wrong for doing that", to understand WHY he is doing that. Try to comprehend that Jamie isn't a yeller, but a compassionate person who is very mindful.