Hello. Hello. Hello. I'm back! Well just for today...I can' help my self. First off...OMG! Yaayyyyyyyy! RUCAS baby! Sorry, I needed to get that out of my system.

RUCAS people, where you at? I tried to read and get a fill of my RUCAS stories and I see mostly lucaya's...what happened? Everyone still on cloud 9? Oh well, since I can't have the scale tipping mostly for the opposing team I figure it's time I unearth one of my RUCAS stories.

Hope you enjoy reading!

P.S. This story won't have a sequel...

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It's always you…

"What do you mean you're not coming?" Riley toned down her anguished wail midsentence. This couldn't be happening. Until now, the whole incredibly far-fetched plot had worked perfectly, charmed from the beginning, against ridiculous odds.

"Uh, this…um, isn't a good time right now, Riles," was the response on the other end of the phone line.

"Maya you promised. Is Josh with you again?" Her relationship with Maya had been floundering for weeks. Not calling when she promised to. Long nights out with Josh. Dates sitting together in front of the TV. Been there, ended that. Too many times.

This time she'd decided to fight for the relationship, just to prove that nothing changed between them. Purely by chance she'd seen an ad in the paper announcing a contest where couples answered questions to prove how well they knew each other. The winners would receive a weekend at the brand-new luxury hotel, Blush.

What could inject life faster into a stagnant relationship than a weekend devoted to fun and pampering? Now as the finish line approached, Riley's magnificent plan was about to trip and fall on its face. "But Maya, it will be fabulous. Did you see the brochure —"

"I did and I know it'll be amazing but I have to fly down to Chicago for an art exhibit on that weekend. I'm so sorry."

"Grrr…I'm mad at you. You're spending more time with Uncle Josh than me."

"Peaches, please ask the green eyed monster to go away and ask my Princess Dancing Sunshine to come out from Rileytown, I really need to talk to her right now."

Riley growled in frustration. "Maya, look, I swear I —"

"Honey, I love you. A lot. But I really can't come with you."

"Fine. I'm gonna go by myself and I'm not bringing you anything back."

Riley slumped onto her kitchen counter stool.

So…now what? She had an all-expenses-paid dream weekend at Blush coming up and no date. It would be way too weird to invite someone else the last minute. She could ask Farkle to go with her but Smackle might kill her for it and Zay is in Texas and not sure when he'll be coming back. Her only option is Lucas — but how weird would that be? Except they always had fun no matter what they did together.

During the month they'd cohabitated, when he'd first moved back to New York City and was looking for a veterinary clinic to intern and an apartment, they'd even had fun cleaning.

She frowned and played out the pros and cons over a diet soda and five cherry chocolate chunk cookies from Topanga's.

Fifteen minutes and several hundred calories later she reached a decision. No way could she waste this special opportunity. Going alone would be too depressing. She'd invite Lucas. As long as he understood her invitation was all about friendship, and nothing else.

…

(Lucas' POV)

Lucas stood in the lobby of Blush hotel, waiting for the eternally late Riley. How symbolic was that? On his gravestone would probably be inscribed the words, "I died waiting for Riley." What the hell was he doing here anyway? He had a meeting on Monday with a veterinarian wanting to retire and sell his practice; he'd have to stay up all night Sunday to make sure that he'd done his homework about the practice and all his documents are in order. And how many times in this life could he enter the gates of look-don't-touch hell before he was sucked in permanently?

Once again Riley Matthews had beckoned, and once again, he'd come running like a lemming headed for the cliff's edge. He was starting to think love and idiocy had way too much in common.

But this time the chance was too good to pass up. Hey, Lucas, would you like to spend the weekend in a luxurious hotel with me?

Umm…yes. He wanted to spend the rest of his life in a hotel with her. And maybe this time, instead of helping her pick up the pieces when yet another brain-dead hunk turned out not to be The One, instead of protecting her, watching out for her, playing the role that her real younger brother, Auggie, was on the wrong coast to do — maybe this time he'd get up the nerve to tell her how he felt.

He'd probably always been in love with her, ever since she'd landed on his lap after Maya pushed her in the subway. She'd regarded him with wide adoring brown eyes as if her personal cavalry had arrived.

From there, they'd gone through stages: her adoration, his uncertainty, the triangle, her teases, his delight in giving as good as he got, and gradually, a slide into a rich fine friendship through high school and beyond. He'd been her date to their senior prom. She'd helped him pick out furniture when he graduated from Texas A&M and moved to his first apartment.

No matter how many women he dated, it had always — only — been Riley.

Except Lucas hadn't admitted those feelings, even to himself, until a year ago, when he moved back to the city and they'd spent a month together in the same apartment. But he'd been dating Sabrina at the time, and Riley had started hanging out with another overdeveloped-muscle of the week. Lucas never seemed to get the timing right.

"Hey, Lucas, sorry I'm late." Riley emerged through the revolving door, flushed and breathless from hurrying as he knew she would be, her wide white-toothed smile and cheerful greeting bouncing around the quiet tasteful art deco lobby, shaking it up. People turned and noticed her. Riley was like that. In a city so over stimulating that most people blocked everything out, her energy and life force still managed to draw attention.

He was so gone.

He held up their room cards as she approached. "I already checked us —"

"Fabulous." She spun around, Waist-length brown hair swinging behind her, taking in the lobby — the bar, the dress shop, the luxury look of the place. "Isn't this incredible? I'm so happy you could come."

"I am —"

"Let's go see the room; it's supposed to be sooo luxurious!"

"Sounds —"

"C'mon, I can't wait." She started off for the elevators and he followed her slender form, chuckling. When Riley was nervous, she talked. And how. If she'd been entirely comfortable being with him in a hotel geared for romance, he'd take that as a bad sign of complete apathy.

He followed her onto the elevator, inhaling her scent, pretending calm he didn't feel while she chattered on about the hotel services — the pool, the spa, the roof garden, the library, the movie room, assorted bars, a world-class restaurant…

This weekend the timing would be right. He'd sat patiently stuck in the "friend" role for far too long.

The next two days would have very little to do with friendship. And everything to do with seduction.

…

(Riley's POV)

Riley swung open the door to Room 525 and gasped. Oh be still her madly beating heart. "Would you look at this place? It's gorgeous!"

The room was large and luxurious, done in black-and-white with warm, startling touches of red that brought it to life. A king-size bed with a curved ebony headboard, white pillows piled up on a thick black-and-white geometric comforter; the same black wood in the entertainment center and desk, all on lush white carpet. Black-and-white photographs lined the walls — Central Park in the snow, the painfully missed twin towers, the public library. And red — one scarlet decorative pillow on the bed; a bouquet of rosebuds on the nightstand, Red Delicious apples in a silver bowl on the table.

Riley walked into the middle of the room, spreading her arms wide to embrace a new privileged lifestyle, then turned around and grinned at Lucas…when it hit her. They'd be sleeping in that bed for the next two nights. Together.

Which was fine. Really. Not a problem. At all. And the way he was looking at her now, with his green eyes so intense and a slight quirk of amusement to his lips, like he had her figured out better than she did…

Well, that wasn't a problem, either. It was a look. A very sexy look, though. The kind that probably made other women drop and spread right there. But of course not her.

"So wow." She threw her overnight bag on the bed and started prowling. On the desk, thick stationery with the pink Blush logo. A room-service menu, to be more thoroughly explored later, because who could not want breakfast in bed?

With Lucas. Oh my God, she'd be waking up with him. Why had the true intimacy of the situation not hit her until now?

"So what else?" She bustled around to the entertainment center and flung open the doors, wondering what Lucas was doing and why he was so quiet, but strangely shy about turning to see. "Look at this TV, it's huge! And a DVD player and this food, oh my gosh, pâté and oysters and truffles and cheeses and what's in here?"

She opened a drawer and immediately wished she hadn't. Sex toys. In shapes and sizes she couldn't have ever imagined —

"Well, well." Lucas' voice contained a lot more interest than she thought was appropriate to the situation.

Riley slammed the drawer shut. "Guess we won't be needing those. So what —"

"No?" He reached past her, which brought his chest into contact with her shoulder. And why was she noticing particularly? Or that he smelled different than usual — some really great cologne — way too sexy for her boy-next-door buddy. Or for her peace of mind.

He opened the drawer again. "Looks like some of these could show you a pretty fine time."

Red Delicious apples, roses, the one scarlet pillow — none of them as red as she was at the moment. What was the matter with her? She and Lucas had discussed sex before. Sort of.

But not while they were both single and alone in a bedroom designed specifically for that purpose.

"Yeah, so…" She fled to the other side of the room. "Want to check out some of the hotel's other —"

"Riley."

"Yes?" She answered with her back to him, seated at the desk, going through the room-service menu and not taking in a thing.

"Are you going to be like this all weekend?"

"Like what?"

"A nervous wreck." He came up behind her; his hands brushed over her shoulders, brushed again, then settled, began massaging deep and slow. Strong hands on tense muscles. Mmm. She tipped her head to the side and let him do his thing.

"Nervous? Who's nervous? I'm not nervous." Holy moly she sounded nervous. "I'm just…excited."

"Excited." He repeated her word in his deep voice, which probably made most women melt into tiny lustful puddles. She'd seen them do it, too. Women who took one look at his clean-cut handsome face and his confidence and his very nice body, which fit a pair of jeans like the entire industry existed just for him, and —

"When you're excited, you smile a lot. Nervous makes you talk too much."

She swallowed. Busted. Like she could get anything past Lucas. "Well, so, uh, I guess maybe I am."

"Relax." His hands worked more magic on her shoulders and traveled down her arms. He'd given her massages before, but this one felt…well it just felt more. Did he notice his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts? Because, well, she did.

"So what's there to be nervous about, Riley?"

"You and I are just friends. And this hotel is so about…not just friends."

"Sex."

"Yes. That."

"And friends can't have sex?"

"No. Because then they wouldn't be friends anymore."

"What would they be?"

"Lovers. And lovers turn into exes with clockwork regularity."

"Ever think that might be because you separate friendship and sex so completely?"

Riley pulled her mouth closed before it became too obvious he'd stunned her. Separate them? Did she? Wasn't there one man in the stable of her past who'd been a lover and a close friend?

Gulp. She was coming up empty.

Lucas shrugged and patted her before he took his hands away, which left her shoulders chilly and strangely forlorn. "Just thought I'd point that out."

"Oh. Well. Thank you. I guess I should give that some thought. And maybe change my wicked ways."

And if she did that, if she started with friendship and added sex, that meant the obvious first person to turn to would be —

"Lucas?" Her voice came out a hoarse whisper.

"Mmm?"

She wished he wouldn't make that mmm sound deep in his chest like that. She could practically feel the vibrations through the back of her head. He was her best male friend. She loved him — like a brother. Sex would only ruin them the way it ruined everything her other girlfriends involved in.

"Riley, we are just talking about sex. You did have sex before haven't you?"

"Can we go to the bar now? I'm in serious need of a drink."

…

Here it came. Riley lay in bed, facing the window. Behind her the bathroom door had opened, and Lucas had come into the room. His weight dipped the mattress behind her. She tried very hard to relax, but with zero success.

They'd had a drink at the chic lobby bar, followed by a delicious dinner at the hotel restaurant. Lucas had been acting…different. She couldn't even quantify it. Maybe his eyes had more intensity than usual? She'd found herself uncomfortable looking at him, glancing away, losing her train of thought.

Uncomfortable? With Lucas?

Now he was in bed behind her and the silence between them was not easy and companionable the way it usually was. Once at his place they'd fallen asleep watching a late movie in his bed and had slept together, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her, their legs tangled, until she woke in the middle of the night and went back to her room. Without a trace of awkwardness. Not even the next morning.

Maybe it was just that he'd dropped that friendship-and-sex bomb on her. Maybe a seed of the idea remained after the blast and planted itself in her brain. Maybe it was just the anything-goes atmosphere at Blush. Because she couldn't stop wondering what sex with Lucas would be like. What sex would be like the first time, period. She couldn't imagine passion between them. It would probably be slow and gentle and satisfying and fun. Or it could be boring as hell.

He knew her too well. What made sex and relationships so exciting was the mystery, the slight danger, the touch of fantasy involved in the unknown. Right? Where is Maya when she needs her? She dated. A lot. But she never went beyond a kiss goodnight or the occasional make-out session. She had always been scared to cross the line for fear that fabulous excitement brought on by sex for all it was worth, until it started to break down. Fights, bickering, dissatisfaction, boredom. Familiarity bred contempt.

Lucas had seen her at her worst. Held her, runny-nosed and raccoon-eyed over breakups. He'd encouraged her at low moments, cheered her on at high and she'd done the same for him. She'd never had to pretend to be anything but her goofy, impulsive, sometimes over-the-top emotional self, nor did he hide his passion for geeky computer games or his crabbiness in the morning or his impatience with her sloppiness.

There would be no mystery, no fantasy to sex with Lucas. It would be just the two of them, flaws right there on the surface. Nothing to hide behind.

Boring? Or…terrifying?

"Good night, Riles." His hand glided up her back, tangled in her hair. Her breath shot in. Here it came. How would she handle this?

Lucas turned her toward him, kissed her…cheek. Then let her go. And settled himself on the other side of the bed.

Huh? Had her he-wants-you radar malfunctioned that completely?

"Good night." She frowned at the ceiling, the leftover warmth on her cheek cooling slowly. "Sleep well."

He yawned. "Thanks. You, too."

Silence.

He wasn't going to make a move. Their friendship would stay as it was. Rich, intimate and satisfying. Big relief. No — huge.

Except lying there in the darkness listening to the regular slow breathing of the friend she'd adored and teased and fought with and leaned on and undoubtedly taken for granted too often since childhood, it didn't feel like relief, really.

It felt like emptiness. And disappointment.

…

(Lucas' POV)

If he didn't kiss her soon, he was going to shrivel and die like an earthworm on sunny concrete.

Lucas winced. Okay, maybe that wasn't a very romantic image. He didn't do the hearts and chocolate and poetry seduction thing very well, not like the guys she usually fell for.

But already she'd begun to notice a difference between them, even though, not wanting to rush her, all he'd done was let some of his feelings show in his eyes, gazed at her more directly, taken more excuses to touch her. A bare taste of what he'd been carrying around his whole life, like Santa Claus accumulating presents he tried to deliver every year, but no recent address for little Riley.

They were in the pool, having spent the day taking advantage of the considerable amenities the hotel offered. A really fine breakfast in bed — waking up with her had been a dream come true, one he wanted every morning for the rest of his life, only not so damn G-rated — a stroll through the stunning roof garden; a gander at the library, giggling over the erotic section. Then lunch and, over his protests, a visit to the spa. "Real men don't" had been his only answer, but she'd laughed and teased and ruffled his hair and, of course, he'd given in.

This afternoon they were swimming, laps here and there, occasionally coming together to talk.

Right now she was breast stroking toward him, and don't even let him start thinking about breast stroking while they were in public. She was always gorgeous to him, but the daylight filtering through the glass roof was particularly flattering, and her face seemed especially beautiful with her hair wet and close to her head.

"This is the life, huh?" She glided to a stop in front of him, her smile joyous. Tiny beads of water dotted her faintly freckled skin, and her eyes caught the blue of the pool and reflected it up at him.

To hell with it. Lucas bent and kissed her soft rosy mouth as he'd wanted to for the past fifteen years — a thorough lingering kiss that sent a huge, thrilling adrenaline rush to his heart. Then he pulled back and nodded as if nothing had happened. As if she wasn't staring at him in shock and pleasure. As if his bathing suit wasn't taking on an unnatural shape under the water.

"Yeah, it's an amazing place. I'm going to do another lap. See 'ya." He turned and plowed through two laps of the butterfly. He had to use up energy somehow. Because if he'd stayed next to Riley another second, he would have hauled her out of the pool and made love to her on the gray tile without caring who else was around. And he didn't want that to happen…

Until that night.

…

(Riley's POV)

He'd kissed her.

Riley stared down at her quarter-eaten chocolate mousse cake. The thought hadn't let her alone since he'd done the deed, and taken off like a man fleeing a female discussion of tampons, leaving her stunned, speechless and…aroused.

Oh my gosh, yes. Unexpectedly. Thoroughly. Intensely.

Unlike anything else that had ever happened in her life, she didn't feel comfortable bringing this subject up with Lucas. Clearly, he wanted to pretend it had never happened. Was it some kind of weird experiment that he decided had failed too dismally to repeat?

He'd kissed her. And she wanted him to kiss her again. Because it wasn't sisterly love she was feeling when his lips were on hers. Not remotely. And she wanted to feel that again. And then some.

Had he always been this sexy? Had she really not noticed except in a detached too-familiar way? The haircut had done amazing things to his face, making it more masculine, more…just more Lucas. And he'd definitely been spending time in the gym since she last saw —

"Riles?"

"Huh?"

"I said are you ready to go back to the room?"

"Oh." She put her fork down. "Yes, don't we need to sign for dinner?"

He gave her a curious look. "I just did."

"Right." She nodded vigorously and got up from her chair. "Right. I knew that."

His eyes narrowed; he came around the table and stood close, making her want to lean into his body. "Are you okay?"

"Sure. Yes. Fine." She started off through the restaurant toward the bar and lobby. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know." He fell into step beside her. "You seem a million miles away."

"Really?" Her voice was high, artificial. "That's weird."

They reached the elevator in an awkward silence. Lucas pushed the button and stood watching her, hands on his waist pushing back his suit jacket. "Are you thinking about Dale? Wishing he was here instead of me?"

"Who?" He can't be talking about the guy she dated three months ago does he? "No. No. God, no." She laughed incredulously into his eyes, which seemed even darker and deeper and sexier with his new short style. Dale who? She hadn't even thought about him since she broke it off.

It hit her hard and suddenly that if Lucas had dumped her from a relationship in a similar fashion, a lifetime later she still wouldn't be over it.

Oh my goodness.

She sneaked a peek at him. He was staring at the elevator floor indicator now, whistling, as if she didn't exist. What could be more sickeningly ironic than if that kiss had turned her permanently on to a whole new side of their relationship — and turned him permanently off?

The elevator arrived; the doors slid open. A couple got out. Riley and Lucas got in. He punched number 5; the doors slid closed. He started whistling again, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Why did you kiss me?" The words popped out. She couldn't stand the tension anymore.

He stopped whistling, but kept his eyes on the mounting floor numbers. "Oh, I don't know. I guess because you looked really pretty at the pool."

"And?"

He did glance at her then. "And what?"

"Well, what did you think?"

He shrugged. "I thought it was nice. Didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Good." Again, the whistling. The doors opened and he gestured her out into the hall.

She smiled, wanting to trip him, and give him a smart right hook under the chin as he went down. Nice? Her world had turned upside down and he thought the kiss was nice?

He was wrong. The kiss had been a lot more than nice. And if he didn't realize it yet…well, maybe she'd just have to make sure he got another chance.

…

***WARNING: Scenes may cause intense FEELS...also, please be aware that there are mature scenes involved.***

…

(Lucas' POV)

Lucas opened the bathroom door. Riley was lying in bed. Waiting for him? Or trying to sleep. How he'd kept himself away from her after the incident in the pool he hadn't a clue. He was pretty sure he'd surprised her with the kiss. Pretty sure the fireworks that had gone off in his brain the second their lips met were shared.

Pretty sure they weren't going to get much sleep tonight.

The hugeness of this next step, the depth of his feelings for Riley, the uncertainty as to how deeply they were returned — he wasn't too macho to admit that yeah, this was terrifying.

But not terrifying enough to hold back, or cheat himself out of what this night could be.

He slid into bed as he had the night before, wanting her to come to him, but knowing he'd go to her if it came to that.

"Good night." He drew his hand up her back, slid his fingers into her hair as he had done the night before. Pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. Let her go.

Then waited. Silence.

"Aren't you going to say good night, Riley?"

"No." A whisper of sound, like skin sliding over cotton; she was under the comforter, moving around. Then her arm emerged, silhouetted against city light coming in around and between the curtains. Something left her fingers and drifted to the floor.

"What was that?"

"My cardigan."

He swallowed.

More wiggling. Her arm came up again. Something smaller dropped this time.

"And that?"

"Shorts."

"So you're naked?"

"Nope. I'm wearing a tank top and –"

He dragged off his boxers, made a show of lifting his arm and letting go.

"Those?"

"Boxers."

"You're naked?"

"Butt."

"Mmm." The purr from her throat fired his blood. He reached for her, dragged her to him, encountering warm skin and softness in all the right places. Full breasts, thin firm waist, round hips that fit his palms as if they were made for them.

He kissed her, years and years of unstolen kisses his for the taking now, over and over. Then tasting her mouth wasn't enough. He burrowed under the covers to remove the rest of her clothing and to taste in a new place, felt her guiding his hips closer, and her warm mouth settling over him where he liked warm mouths best. The sensation was ecstatic, the emotion so much more so.

Riley, it's always and only been you.

They built up a gradually quickening rhythm, pausing only to moan, or whisper each other's name, frantic in the pleasure they gave and took.

Her mouth came off him. She let out a cry and he knew she was close, that he could put her over the edge with a few more flicks of his tongue. That's how he wanted her. On the edge, straining for him and for release.

He lunged to his side of the bed, grabbed a condom from the drawer in the nightstand and pulled it on, moved over her and stopped, an inch from heaven, gazing deeply into her eyes, black from excitement and the dim light in the room.

Now.

"I love you." The words he'd kept back for decades spilled out easily and without fear. He pushed inside her, not wanting her to answer, not wanting her to think, or worry, just to feel.

Riley gasped at his entrance, clutched him to her hard, answered his thrusts with desperate passion, crying out as she neared her peak, then again as she came, violent and wild. He reached his orgasm seconds later, pushed over by the thrill of hearing his name on her lips as he'd dreamed so often, of feeling her thrash under him, control lost. Because of him.

Her eyes opened and met his. He hesitated, unable to squash the hope that "I love you, too," was about to come out of her beautiful mouth, even knowing he couldn't push her, that her feelings would be infant still, while his were legal to vote.

"I…" She was flushed, breathless, her eyes glowed. "I…"

Love you. It was so easy. Two words, though he didn't want to hear them unless they were real. But how could she not love him after what they just shared? After what they'd shared their whole lives?

"I…" Tears rose in her eyes; she smiled tremulously.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"

…

(Riley's POV)

Riley stood in the lobby of Blush with her suitcase, hoping the art deco carpet would open up and swallow her. An endless torturing loop of thoughts was having a wonderful time punishing her.

This morning should have been a really wonderful close to a really wonderful weekend. She should have been able to tell Lucas she loved him last night, instead they had to talk about her non-experience. Then she made it worse by panicking and apologizing over and over, until he snapped at her and told her to sleep.

She may not have experience sex until last night but she's not that naïve not to know what "amazing sex" was. This had gone so far beyond. It was like two souls emptying into one other. How could she have thought that knowing Lucas so well would make the sex boring? Their lovemaking surpassed the most deeply satisfying and erotic connection she'd ever been able to imagine. The mechanics were the same, but that was where the similarity ended.

And then she'd looked him in the eye and seen the depth of what he felt, and the responsibility of being trusted with that much love had scared her to death. She'd never gotten anything right in the love department. And that fear had led her to screw this up, too, the most important relationship of her life, when it had only barely started.

"Okay. We're all set." He handed her a small square box.

"What's this?"

"I bought this for your twenty-first birthday and chickened out. You might as well have it now."

Riley nearly choked on the lump in her throat. Because you're writing me off?

"Open it at home, okay?"

"Yes." The misery rose. "Lucas, I'm sor —"

"Don't. It's okay. You go on, I have a phone call to make. Thanks for the weekend." He kissed her cheek and moved away when she reached for him, taking his cell out of his pocket and focusing on the keypad.

Great. She'd done it again. Once more, it was time to cut her losses.

She turned, feeling like hot lead had been poured into her body, and clumped to the hotel exit. Two steps away, her feet slowed.

Wait a second. She'd been willing to fight to keep Maya and she was giving up on Lucas? She glanced back at him, on the phone with his back to her, and as she approached the revolving door, she lifted the lid off the flat white box.

A gold necklace. With a heart-shaped pendant inset with a tiny diamond. Her name engraved in florid script. She entered the revolving door and turned the pendant over. There was writing on the other side, too.

It's always and only been you. Lucas.

She looked up and saw through the glass the smiling, hunky doorman, ready to welcome her and get her a taxi. A taxi that would take her away from the man she'd loved her whole life.

The doorman's face changed to surprise as she blew him a kiss and stayed in the door, pushing impatiently now, until it swung completely around and deposited her back into the lobby.

Lucas turned slowly, as if he sensed her return, phone still pressed to his ear. He lowered it at her approach, folded it, stowed it in his pocket, his face rigidly controlled.

"Forget something?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, can you believe it? Something I love and can't live without. What a dope I can be."

"Not a dope. Just a little scattered." His attempt at a smile was painful to watch. "You left it in the room?"

"No, in the lobby."

He frowned, looking around. "Here?"

She walked straight up to him and gazed into the most handsome wonderful face she'd ever known, letting love shine from her eyes without a trace of her former fear. "Yeah. Right here."

Comprehension dawned. "Something you love?"

"Yes," she whispered. "And can't live without."

"Me?" His voice cracked strangely; he pounded his chest as if he was choking.

Riley laughed. "Yes. You."

"Wow." His grin was the most wonderful thing she'd ever seen. "Wow."

"I love you, Lucas Friar." She went into his arms, knowing she'd belong there for the rest of her life. "It's always and only been you."

The End