Hi, welcome!

Figured I've been teasing for long enough ;)

Biggest of love for my MeteorOnAMoonlessNight and the Ladies of The Docs.

Honorary mention for the golden Mel C... You're legit the best thing since sliced bread.

All the hearteyes for you.

1.

"Oh, Riley! What?!" I clasp my hands over my mouth, almost shrieking in surprise. I can't believe that he's done this.

"Anything for you, babe." Riley smiles, face illuminated and blue eyes bright. I open my present that's on the table. There was a reason he bought me something, a very good reason, too. Riley smirks and watches me, one elbow leaning on the carefully set table—his mother's China and polished silverware.

"Five years with the light of my life. Can't let that go by unnoticed, can I?"

"It's so fucking beautiful, Ri." I finger the delicate silver chain. Black gemstones catch the light as I hold them up and admire the entwined letters B and R. Nobody ever bought me jewelry, so this feels incredibly special to me.

"You like it?" His eyes twinkle, the color of a blue lagoon—almost too beautiful to be real.

"I fucking love it." I bite my lip and fiddle with the clasp, trying to put it on myself. Riley stands and walks behind me, his fingers running through my hair before he pulls it all to one side, warm fingertips brushing the back of my neck and sending tingles all through my body. Riley is my first love; we met at fourteen, fell in love at fifteen, and have been together ever since. Being with Riley is as easy as breathing.

"I fucking love you," he whispers, pressing his lips next to my ear before he parts my hair again, long tresses tickling my bare elbows.

"Love you, too." I pull him down and in for a kiss, my tongue searching for his. I moan when he plays along, taking my arms and draping them around his neck. Riley's touch wanders, hands underneath my ass. He lifts me from the chair and I lock my legs around his waist.

"Hmm..." he breathes, his nose skimming the length of my neck before he kisses the new pendant resting between my collarbones.

"Fuck me, Riley." My voice is hoarse, my nipples hard as he licks and sucks my neck. I'm desperate for something other than missionary and a bed tonight.

"You're dirty tonight," Riley remarks. He doesn't really like me being so upfront, this blunt, but he hasn't touched me in a few weeks.

"I'm dirty for you," I purr and gasp as he sets me down on the back of his couch. His roommate isn't in, so we have the place all to ourselves.

"How about my present?" he asks, arms next to my bare thighs. It's so stifling hot in here, I can't stand to wear anything more than cutoff denim shorts and a tiny tank top.

"There's time for that later. Let me thank you for mine first." I get up, our bodies flush against each other before I sink down on my knees. Riley's dressed in nothing but khaki cargo shorts from work, his ripped body from building houses all day taunting me. I want to lick every inch of him, starting with his cock.

I unbuckle his belt and fumble with the button, a triumphant smile on my face as his pants drop to the floor with a loud clunk.

"Bella, don't." He steps backward so fast I lose my balance, putting my palms flat on the floor so I don't fall on my face.

"What's the matter, Riley? Don't you want me to put your cock in my mouth? Make you feel good?" My words seem to turn me on more than him, and I feel rejected, trashy, when I see the scowl on his face. My cheeks burn, but I'm angry now, not embarrassed.

"The fuck, Ri?!" I stand up and push him square in the chest.

"I'm not in the mood. Let's just make love, okay? You, me, my bed. That's how we like it, isn't it?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and look away from him. "You're never in the mood. If you don't want me, you can just tell me instead of giving me this ridiculous necklace." I reach for the clasp behind my head, but I can't seem to open it.

"It's not you... Bella." The fact that he's using my name instead of 'babe' tells me there's something on his mind. Something he's not telling me.

"It's not you, it's me? Seriously? What the fuck happened between our nice dinner, you picking me up, and this?"

"I—I can't, not now." Riley shakes his head and averts his eyes. Somehow, the dishes in the sink seem way more important than me, his fucking girlfriend. I don't know what's wrong with him. He's sporting a tent in his shorts, yet he doesn't even move to adjust himself.

"Okay, then I'll just go." Tears well up in my eyes.

"I slept with Collin," he blurts out.

My head whips over my shoulder as I'm nailed to the ground. I can't fucking breathe, my heart drumming into my ears like the world's loudest bass track.

Collin? His male roommate?

All the blood drains from my face as I stare at the guy who's single-handedly crushing my heart on our anniversary. He's lying, he's never told me, he wasn't open when I asked him to be, wasn't honest when I asked if he ever wanted to fulfill any fantasies.

"I can't let you blow me becau—"

"Because you'll think of him, Riley? Because you want it to be him?"

Riley just shrugs, pulling his shorts back on. "I think I'm gay, Bella."

"You think or you fucking know?"

"It was just so...different. I just couldn't control myself. I couldn't...stop." He shakes his head, strands of hair falling over his vibrant blue eyes. "I don't know, Bella."

"Riley Biers, you're an ass. A complete, lying, fucking cheating ass! You should've told me you wanted to experiment. Or that you were attracted to men. But instead you fucking broke us." I'm finally able to snatch the necklace from around my neck and throw it on the kitchen table. I start crying uncontrollably, taking my purse and tote bag with my stuff and slamming his door closed behind me.

The air outside is still hot even though it's past nine at night. I should go home, sleep before I start my shift at the diner in the morning. Instead, I pull my phone out of my bag, calling my father. It's not a surprise when he doesn't pick up, so I leave him a message saying I'm coming home tonight after all instead of spending the night at Riley's.

My hair is sticky, some front pieces matting to my forehead as I unlock my car and get in, music blaring loudly as I speed through Boulder City streets until I'm on Darlene Way, the pale green apartment building in front of me. I park and lock the car before I climb up the metal stairs to the unit I share with my dad.

I turn my key in the lock, and the place is a mess—dark too. I sigh and lock the door behind me. I don't even have to think about Dad's whereabouts since he's obviously not home. When he's not working, he's maxing out multiple credit cards in some ATM in Sin City. It's money Dad can't afford to lose, money he shouldn't be gambling with—if at all—and he's putting me at risk of losing the roof over my head.

Over the past two years, since I finished high school, I've been working 12-hour shifts, doubles, and holidays to scramble enough money together to pay the rent each month and to survive. We're not poor, at least it doesn't feel like we are, but I'm always scared, anxious, when I empty the mailbox. Dad hides the letters of collection agencies and dodges calls. He forbade them to contact me, hence why my name isn't even on the lease of this place.

I don't bother turning on the lights but walk straight to the kitchen. The fridge light casts a yellow hue over the white tiled floor that could do with some hands-and-knees scrubbing, but I don't exactly have the energy for that after the day I've just had.

I lean against the counter, silence interrupted by the whirring of the central air conditioning. Who would have thought I'd be single and sad on my five-year anniversary.

Dick.

I even took tonight off for that bastard.

Glancing at the contents of the fridge, I grab a jug of juice and some leftover pasta I took from work last night and walk to my room.

I close the door and turn on my lights before I walk over to the oak dresser I found at a thrift shop opposite my bed and stare at all the framed pictures that sit on top, next to my perfume and jewelry tray.

We look so happy in all of them—too happy. I wonder how much time has been a lie, when he slept with Collin, and how long that's been going on. I grab an empty shoebox from under my bed and slam the pictures in the box. I sink down on the beige carpet so fast I'm afraid I'll get rug burn on my bare legs. My mind wanders, going over the past five years and my relationship with Riley. It's always been...easy, comfortable. We were friends before anything, that's how we met.

He was there when Tyler rejected me after I mustered up the courage to tell him I liked him in freshman year, and was the second boy I ever kissed. Riley's kiss made my stomach flutter, and even though there were no fireworks, it was nice. No more, no less.

I was the one to make a move on him, the first time we covered each of the proverbial bases, and he never went down on me. He didn't like it. Now I know why. Why didn't he tell me? Why did he stay with me if he was into guys?

I grab a fistful of hair at the back of my head and tug hard. Silent tears slip from my eyes and suddenly I find myself sobbing on the floor. I hear the door unlock, my dad's feet pattering around the living room as he puts his keys in the bowl on the kitchen island.

"Bella?"

I hear him come closer; he opens my door and gasps as he sees me sitting with my back against the dresser, shoebox filled with the past five years next to me.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He's on his knees next to me, his light-wash jeans soft against the side of my thigh. He smells like smoke and beer. It's soothing, comforting; pure Charlie.

Dad puts an arm around me and lets me cry. He knows me well enough not to push me to share my emotions, but I can't help but bury my face into his mint green T-shirt and sob against him.

"We broke up," I say, my voice shaky, the words making no sense to me.

"What? What happened?" He strokes my hair, which is the same dark chestnut as his. His voice rumbles against my cheek.

"Ri—Riley cheated on me," I manage to croak.

Dad loves Riley, thinks he's great. They always got along fine. Except now, when I see the look on his face, I'm scared for Riley's sake. I've never seen my father look this angry before. He's fuming.

"He did what?!" he barks. His voice is loud and fills the entire room.

I don't answer, instead, I let my dad hold me like I'm six again and fell off my bike.

"Bells, come on. Have you eaten anything?" he asks, pulling me off the floor.

"He ah... He made me dinner. For our anniversary."

"Mother of fucking God... I'm gonna drive over and strangle that son of a bitch." Dad's fists are balled against his sides. He's working himself up over this, as if we needed any more problems. I put a hand on his arm, giving him a meek smile.

"Daddy, that's okay. It's better like this, anyway." I mean it, too. I'm better off alone than dating a guy who's not brave enough to man up and come out. I'm not going to date a gay man, not even if it means I'll be lonely.

"My sweet, baby Bella..." Dad hugs me, strong arms around my neck that keep me close, safe inside.

I sigh and look at the pictures on the ground. "Daddy?" I ask, lifting my head to look into eyes like mine. They're big and shiny brown.

"Hm?"

"Do you want to light these on fire with me?" I ask, nodding to the crumbled mess of photographs in the shoebox.

Dad lets out a laugh and kisses my forehead. "Whatever you need, kid."

I wake up the next morning, sun blasting through the crack between my blackout curtains. I groan and turn my back to the window, legs tangled with my sheet. Since I took last night off, I signed up for two today. Now I'm working way too many hours today because of Riley...and all I get in return are a shattered heart and some measly tips.

Stumbling out of bed in my big sleep shirt, I'm off to the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine. I stayed up until three in the morning, tossing and turning, dodging pathetic "I'm sorry" texts and voicemails.

I see the bottles of beer on the coffee table. It looks like Dad cracked a bottle or six before he went to bed himself. Signing, I grab them in both my hands and cringe at the sticky round prints they make on the table.

The coffee's running, it's eight-thirty, and I run off to the bathroom to take a shower. Steam billows around and I wipe the mirror clean with the back of my hand before I blow dry my hair and put on some mascara. It's too hot for anything else, and I'll be running around the diner for two shifts today, so I don't bother to doll myself up.

I pass my father's bedroom again and I'm glad to see he left for work this morning. We can't afford for either one of us to skip work and not make money.

My phone rings when I'm zipping up my ridiculous red and white trimmed polyester dress. I feel like fucking Minnie Mouse, but at least Cassandra let me take in the hem a little more so it shows off my legs. I always make the most tips in this one, the first dress they gave me. It's a little worn, and I shrunk it slightly by throwing it into the dryer once, so I can't really close it all the way or my tits might break the cheap zipper.

"Hello?" I make the mistake of not checking the caller id before I answer.

"Hi, hun." It's Cassandra, my boss. I cringe internally at what she wants from me now. "It's Cass, could you come in a little early today?"

I roll my eyes, resisting the groan that bubbles inside. "I'm already working two shifts today, Cass."

"Sweetie, I know...but the new girl is on her own since Kate called in sick again."

I rub my temples, walk to the kitchen to grab a mug, and fill it to the brim with cheap coffee that's not even worth spending two dollars for. "Yeah, I guess. I'll be there as soon as I can."

She thanks me absentmindedly, no doubt a diner full of brunch folks on her hands.

"I can't catch a fucking break..." I mutter to myself.

I step into my red patent ballet flats and snatch a few bandaids out of the cluttered drawer next to the cutlery, putting them in my bag. These shoes fucking hurt, but Cassandra likes us in the blister-inducing things. As long as I don't have to buy them, you won't hear me bitch about my footwear.

After I rinse my mug, I sling the strap of my bag over my shoulder, facing the blistering Nevada heat. It's not even noon yet, but I already feel like ripping off this thick, musty dress and jumping into the nearest pool, regretting taking on an extra, mind-numbing shift at work. Perhaps it'll help me take my mind off my broken heart. The ache dulls a little when I get another one of Riley's pathetic texts. His empty apologies are the little pat on the back I need to pull it together and leave for work. I suddenly don't care about the double shift anymore, because I can feel the promise of extra dollar signs in my bank account call out to me. God knows I need it—Dad does, too.

Think about the money, Bella. Always about the money, I say to myself.

Sooooo... Who's with me?