Chapter five
Riley: Smirks and Stalemates
Two days has passed since that argument at the rescue.
I was sitting at my kitchen table, staring at my laptop but not seeing it. The rescue’s social media feed was flooded with photos of Colton from yesterday. Colton smiling with the dogs. Colton posing with volunteers. Colton looking like some kind of hero.
My coffee had gone cold, but I didn’t care. I was too busy fuming. How could he waltz in, turn the rescue into his personal PR campaign, and then leave like nothing happened? It felt like a betrayal, a slap in the face.
I slammed my laptop shut and grabbed my keys. The point of his working at the rescue wasn’t to smile for cameras. It was to give the decent guy in him the space to show up.
“Riley, you’re overreacting,” Tessa said over the phone as I drove to the rescue. “Maybe he’s trying to help.”
“Help?” I snapped. “Tessa, this isn’t about helping. It’s about him.”
Tessa has been my best friend since our senior year of high school. The one person who knew all my secrets, except my embarrassing crush on Colton. That one felt too pathetic to say out loud, even to her.
She’d been there through every breakup, every bad decision, and every late-night rant. She was the kind of friend who told you the truth, even when you didn’t want to hear it. And right now, I don’t want to hear it.
“OK, spill. What’s the deal with you and Colton? One minute, you’re giving him that goofy heart-eyes emoji look, and the next, you’re acting like he’s public enemy number one.”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated? Riley, you’ve been glaring at him like he keyed your car. What did he do?”
“It’s not what he did. It's who he is. Seeing him at the rescue reminds me how easy it would be to believe he’s changed.” I didn’t mean to say that part out loud. But there it was, the uncomfortable truth. I still want to believe he’s the good guy.
“And who is he, exactly? Because from where I’m sitting, he seems like a guy trying to help.”
“Trying to help? Tessa, this is about the image—about Colton needing a clean-up story. He brought a camera crew for crying out loud. He’s always been like this.”
“Wait, hold on. Back up. You’re telling me you’ve known him for years and never mentioned this before?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. It was a long time ago.”
“Clearly, it matters. So, what happened?”
“I… I had the biggest crush on him back when he and Ryan were in college. He came home with Ryan for Thanksgiving, and he was… perfect. Charming, confident, funny. He even helped my mom in the kitchen without being asked. I thought he was different.”
“Different, how?”
“Different from the other guys Ryan brought around. He wasn’t just some loud, obnoxious jock. He was kind. Or at least, I thought he was.”
“What changed?”
“I overheard him talking to Ryan over Christmas. They were laughing about some girl he’d gone out with. He said, ‘She was great for photos—you know, the kind of girl who looks good on my arm at events. But she started expecting things, like actual dates and conversations. Way too much work for someone who’s just there to make me look good.”
“Wait, he said that? Out loud?”
“Yeah. It was like a punch to the gut. I realized he wasn’t the guy I thought he was. He was just using people for his image, career, and whatever he needed at the time. And I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to think he was different.”
“And now?”
“Now? He’s still the same. Always playing the hero, always looking out for himself. I don’t trust him, Tessa.”
“But that was years ago. People change.”
“Not him. He’s still the guy who cares more about his image than anything else.”
