Enter Player Name: Noah

Today was a clusterfuck.

After my conversation with my mother injected me with an overdose of confidence, I strutted into my investment meeting like an indestructible force. Apparently, the investors didn't share in my eagerness and laughed in my face, instantly rejecting my business plan.

As they had put it: "The business is too risky, and we would be delusional to invest in it."

I elected to walk home and pick up my car another day, employing the long thread to mull over my bad luck. I rubbed my forehead, easing the looming headache. I knew my plan was solid, and if I just had the money I could execute it; my mother would have told me otherwise. But, money. Money. Money. The key to everything. Perhaps I was in over my head.

I kicked a can out of my way.

The metal jar bounced off the edge of a building and rolled into an alleyway. Coffee tables scattered throughout the narrow space and just a little ahead, a metal staircase led up to a barely lit bar. The tavern was a real hole in the wall, perfect for taking the edge off the day. I tugged my tie loose and made my way up the side stairs.

A gentle blue light filled the interior of the small space, illuminating the few people that gathered around the bar. Presumably locals by their casual wear. To the far right, two sultry ladies eyed me. One, a redhead wearing a simple jeans and t-shirt combo. The other, a tall blonde wearing ripped jeans and a corset that barely prevented her large tits from popping loose.

Perhaps my luck was about to turn.

I unbuttoned my vest and loosened my tie, letting my shirt collar hang loose around my neck, enough to let my pecs peek through. I ruffled my hair, obtaining that straight out of bed look I knew would drive them crazy. With a smirk on my face, I walked to the bar and picked up three drinks. I strode in long, deliberate steps over to the two women. Their chins tilted up and their chest rose as I approached.

I lowered my voice, "They say fate takes us where we should be. With that in mind, would you ladies like a drink?"

They chuckled under their hands. "You don't even know what we like," the blond said, gazing at me through her eyelashes.

I leaned in close and whispered into her ear, "Oh, I think I have a good idea of what you like." I pulled back and winked, causing her to shift on her feet. I continued, "So love, why don't you tell me your name?"

It wasn't long before the blonde rubbed her generous breasts against—

Riley?

The infamous computer-murderer Riley, destroyer of all that is good, and ruler of the underworld, waltzed into the bar from the balcony. I should warn the bartender to hide all the glasses.

Riley The Destroyer wore a loose, light green blouse tucked tight into her figure-hugging, black pencil skirt. Her legs stretched longer in those black heels as she slightly swayed against the wooden counter. She smacked her index finger in the air at the bartender and ordered a drink, probably the blood of children.

I could imagine her laughing in joy as she savored in the suffe—

Tears began streaming down Riley's rosy cheeks. She bit into her lip as if holding back a scream. The low light of the bar swallowed her small form, wrapping her in darkness. My heart tightened uncomfortably. I almost immediately stormed my way over immediately to demand if she was okay. If she needed help.

Riley stared blankly at me. She blinked, and her eyes widened with recognition. Her gaze cast to the floor, hidden behind the strands of her chocolate hair. She turned away and pretended she never saw my questioning gaze.

"So, handsome, do you want to come to our place?" The redhead, Amy, whispered into my ear as she twirled her finger suggestively over my abs.

My eyes darted between the blonde's luscious breasts, the redhead, and Riley.

Riley scrubbed her cheeks with her sleeves, erasing the evidence, yet a red glow still lingered on her face. She kept her gaze averted, walked away, and was swallowed by the balcony door.

I cursed myself internally. It was evident she was under distress, and every bone in my body screamed at me to go help her. I'll add cock-blocker in chief to Riley's list of titles, the real life Daenerys Targaryen.

"Sorry, ladies, I think I will have to pass." I took a step back. I straightened my wrinkled shirt and combed my hair back into place.

"Seriously?!" Their voices pitched with indignation.

Ignoring the outraged blonde, I pushed past the lingering locals and exited out the door Riley escaped. She sat at the far corner of the balcony, looking up at the star splattered sky. Moonlight cascaded down her form, illuminating her body and giving her a cosmic glow.

She looked like a moon goddess masquerading as a human. It felt like a sin to intrude on the sacred moment.

I lowered my voice to not scare her. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Her puffy eyes fluttered from the sky to me. She gasped.

"Noah," my name dripped from her lips. She paused as the wheels turned in her head, processing my request. A darkness overcame her tone. "I wouldn't want to ruin your night. I'm in a 'drowning-my-misery-away' kind of mood." She held her drink up as proof.

I chuckled at her dramatic word choice; it sounded familiar. "That's just brilliant. I have some miseries of my own that I would like to drown." I looked to the sky, eyes glossy like tears would spill like waterfalls any second.

"Looks like our methods are quite different." She pointed her drink towards the collar of my white shirt.

Curious, I pulled at it. A bright red lipstick mark stained my previously spotless twill collar. I smirked, like a mischievous kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Perhaps," I took a step closer, "but why don't you teach me your ways?" I winked.

Riley looked at me, a right eyebrow arched that questioned my intentions. She tapped her fingers on the table in a galloping sequence. "Sure," she said. The destroyer of the world took a sip of her yellow drink and watched the ice swirl as she spoke. "I'm surprised that you want to sit with me."

I sat down on the netted metal chair and leaned my face against my closed hand. "Why is that?" I asked.

"Well, yesterday you wanted to burn me at the stake."

I chuckled. "Not going to lie, I did consider it, even ordered the stake on Amazon. Then I thought, 'What a shame it would be to not have such a beautiful neighbor anymore.'" The objective was to lift her spirits. In no way was I flirting with her.

Absolutely, no way.

"That's cheesy," she rolled her eyes and scoffed at me. Yet, her rosy cheeks betrayed her lack of conviction.

My voice lowered. "Then why are you blushing?" I winked, giving her the Noah smolder. The temptation was too much to resist, and a little innocent flirting never hurt anyone.

She rolled her eyes, and instead of answering, she asked, "Anyways, will you finally put me out of one of my miseries and tell me what was in the box?"

The question took me off-balance, and I recoiled back into the chair. "Perhaps another time." Telling her now seemed like adding salt to a gushing wound.

Her shoulder slouched, and she pouted her lips. "Is it that bad?"

A heavy sigh escaped me. I didn't have any desire to bring this up now.

"Just hit me with it." She leaned, placing both her elbows on the table, readying herself.

"Umm... If you insist." I scratched the back of my head. "It was a 15K gaming computer that I used for my old job." I watched her face, worried about what her reaction would be.

Her eyes almost popped out of her head. "Did you just say 15K, a...as in fifteen thousand dollars... as in fifteen followed by three zeros?" Her right finger sketched the number out in the air, just in the off chance that I misspoke.

I bit my lip. "Yes...."

"Oh fuck me!" She shouted into her hands. "Could this day get any fucking worse!" Her head collapsed onto the table. I flinched at the loud vibrating sound of the metal colliding with her forehead. "Oooowww," her muffled cry of pain sounded comical.

Resisting the urge to comment on her potty mouth, I said, "Come on, my company is not that bad, is it?"

She lifted her face. A crimson circle now sat on her forehead. Concern melted in her chocolate eyes as she said, "Noah."

"Yes, Riley?"

Her hands came together and she picked at her nails, yet she held my gaze. "I'm so sorry, but I don't think I can give you that much money back."

"Riley" — I slid my hand over her straining ones and squeezed gently — "do not worry about it."

She bit her lip. Displeasure tinted her hazel eyes dark. "Are you sure? I would still like to pay you back somehow." She insisted.

"How about for now you get me one of those drinks you have." I winked. "It looks delectable."

She pouted her lips. It was cute. I could see it in her eyes how she wanted to press on.

With a sigh, Riley got up and walked away. My gaze followed her body closely as she made her way to the bartender. Her jacket was tied tightly around her waist, obstructing my view of her backside. It curved—

A shameless blush spread over my face. I was totally staring. Not the time or the person Noah, I scolded myself. I snapped my gaze away and resigned myself to gazing up at the night sky.

It wasn't long before the sound of heels tapping on the floor returned. Riley smiled and placed the drink in front of me. I grabbed the glass, eager to take a sip. She watched, awaiting my response.

"Ummmm." The flavors fired in my tongue as the alcohol burned down my throat. "Tequila.... and Pineapple?"

Riley brightened. "Impressive tongue you have there."

I choked on my drink and looked up. I wanted to whisper, 'I can show you just how much.'

Riley's ears burned red. She shifted in her seat and looked to the side, avoiding my teasing gaze. "It's my favorite," she mumbled.

"It's delicious." I licked my bottom lip, tasting remnants of the pineapple and tequila drink on my lips.

When I looked up, I caught Riley staring. Her chocolate eyes were glued on my lips. She bit into hers, making them redder. God, the sight of her, face flushed and pupils dilated, really stroked my ego. I chuckled when she looked away, the rose color spreading further below her chin.

"It's probably time I head home." She cleared her throat, unsure of where to rest her eyes. They danced. My face, my arms, my chest.

I leaned back and crossed my legs. "I thought we were drowning our sorrows. It's only nine pm."

"I don't like getting home too late, in case my brothers need me." She glanced down at her phone and stood so fast, the drinks on the table clattered.

"Have they texted you that they are in dire need?"

"Nooo bu.."

"No buts, come on, stay a little longer. I promise I will have you home by twelve at the latest." I patted her side of the table for emphasis. "Gentleman's honor."

Riley's gaze wandered from her phone to the chair. A battle of wills played out on her face. But I was not ready to part with her. Although her face was not swollen from tears any more, her shoulders were still tense, and sadness lingered in her eyes. It felt wrong to let her go like that. So when a crack appeared on her resolve, I struck.

"Look, I'll set an alarm. I promise we won't get home late." I pulled out my phone and showed her the newly set alarm.

"Eleven," she bargained.

I smirked, happy she decided to join me. "Deal."

Riley sat down and I raised my glass. We toasted to our individual miseries. One drink became two. Two became three. Until eventually, we lost count. Her cheeks gained a permanent rosy look.

I was sure I looked like a smirking fool.

Grrww. Riley's stomach rumbled in protest, halting our conversation. She snickered, and I could imagine a cartoonish sweat drop running down her forehead as she held her stomach.

"You know what?" I leaned forwards. My face, inches from hers. "I'm hungry, too. Let's go find something to eat."

"YASSS!" She squealed, both hands pumped into the air like she won the lottery.

The low background chatter of the bar deafen at the sudden scream. All eyes zeroed in on the source. Riley smiled shyly at me, averting her gaze from all the wandering stares. Yet, she laughed, without a care in the world, enjoying her own antics.

"What are we waiting for?" I extended my hand and her soft fingers slipped right in. Her palm was so petite compared to mine but rougher. I led her out of the bar, and my heart started beating, excited at the possibilities of the night.

Once outside, she pulled her hand out of mine and wrapped it around herself.

"So what would you like to eat?" I asked her.

Her nose sniffed the air as she surveyed the street, seeking inspiration. "I know! Let's get some froyo." She pointed across the street.

My eyebrows furrowed. "I don't think froyo counts as a substantial meal."

"Look here." Her index finger jabbed my chest. "Mr. Noah whatever-your-last-name-is, you said you wanted to learn my ways." She squared her shoulders and proclaimed to the world. "This is my way."

"Last name is Klaine, if you are so interested." I soothed my chest where she poked me. I was right. Rough hands, I'll have to take note of that. My eyes cast down at her skeptically and confirmed, "To eat frozen yogurt as a meal replacement?"

"Yes." Her tone left no room for arguments.

So, I didn't argue. "You're right. If froyo is what you want, then froyo we shall have."

At my declaration, she hopped across the street, like a bunny hunting down the most orangy carrot.

Wind chimes rang as we entered the shop.

"Welcome to the Fruitilicious Froyo Shop," greeted a colorfully dressed teenager with a rainbow helicopter hat — his eyes as lively as a zombie. To his right, the pink walls extended into a display of dozens of frozen yogurt toppings.

"Hello good sir, please serve the lady all the frozen yogurt her heart desires," I proclaimed in my best British accent.

Devoid of tone, the teen answered, "It's all self-serve, sir."

Riley chuckled at my expense and that made all the teen's annoyance worth it. "In that case, the lady shall take whatever she wants." I flared my hand in emphasis towards the frozen yogurt machines.

Riley strode with a wide, dazzling smile to serve herself. She paused and whispered to the uninterested teen, "I don't know him."

I walked with her to the serving area, taking a jelly-ranch colored green cup in my hand.

Vanilla, Chocolate, Pistachio, Peach, Cookie Cream, Peach...

I tapped my index finger over my bottom lip, analyzing the taste of the flavors before I chose them. Vanilla was nice, but plain. Pistachio I liked, but what about peaches? Riley made a beeline for the Vanilla, filled her cup halfway up, and then added a little pyramid of caramel frozen yogurt on top.

"Vanilla?" I snorted. "Out of all these flavors, you go for vanilla?"

She walked up to me, standing tall despite her petite form.

"Noah, do you know why you are standing there with an empty cup, while I am here with a full cup of delicious froyo?" She asked, scooping a sample with her index finger and licking it. I gulped. Her eyes closed as she moaned, savoring the feel of the cold yogurt in her mouth. Did she know how unintentionally sexy that was?

I cleared my throat. "Why is that?"

"Choice paralysis. You are so focused on making the perfect choice that you forget to just enjoy the experience of what you like." With that, she turned around and poured topping after topping into her cup.

I scanned over the flavors one more time.

Vanilla, Chocolate, Pistachio, Peach, Cookie Cream, Peach...

Oh, screw it! I went for some pistachio. Once we got to the register I noticed she was pulling her credit card out. "It's okay. I got it." I pulled out my own and handed it over to the teen on the other side of the counter.

"Okay, Mr. Big Shot." She teased.

I gasped, pretending to be offended. "Are you mocking me?"

"Haha, a little. But I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth," she said, sticking her tongue out playfully.

"Come on"— I leaned closer —"I am far more handsome than a horse."

My breath slid down her delicate neck, and she straightened. Her shoulders strained, trying to repress a shiver from trickling down her slender back. I winked and finished paying. I swear I heard her mumble, "But are you gifted like one?"

Probably my imagination. We made our way out into the breezy night.

"Should we sit here?" I nodded my head to the empty purple chairs outside of the frozen yogurt store.

"Ummm, no." She wrapped her left arm around mine and dragged me along. "I know the perfect spot to enjoy some froyo."

I let Riley guide me through the city streets, content to enjoy the view.

I had yet to explore my new neighborhood. It was not as shiny or full of glass buildings as my previous one, but it was thriving with life. Every store was decorated in bright colors. In one corner you, a group of old men played dominoes, enjoying the Spanish music coming from a nearby store. On the next block, a group of kids jumped and laughed, playing hopscotch.

Riley's brisk strides slowed as we approached a dark alleyway. From what I could remember, we were not that far away from our apartment complex. She pulled me into the narrow space between the two grocery stores.

"Is this where you murder me?" I asked.

"No" — she rolled her eyes — "There is this set of hidden buildings back here. Mostly old people and a couple of families live in them. But it has this really nice garden that they take care of." She smirked. "Besides, my murder spot is a little further down the street."

The dark alleyway merged into a garden, twinkling with Christmas white lights. Flowers of all colors danced to the symphony of the night breeze. In the center of the courtyard stood a small bird fountain surrounded by wooden benches. Those benches were themselves enclosed by flowers and small blossoming trees that radiated out in circular patterns. It was quite a modest garden, yet everything fit together so well, casting an aura of harmony over the space.

Riley dropped my arm and tapped her way over to a bench. She sat down and threw her head back, causing her soft, long curls to cascade in waves behind the bench. It was refreshing to see her like this — unburdened and relaxed. Miles from how she felt before.

A small bucket, filled to the rim with large sticks of colorful chalk, rested on the ground just next to her feet. Not far away, childish sketches marked the cement floor.

I smiled mischievously and sat on the ground. I took a mouthful of frozen yogurt and placed it on the floor. With a bright blue chalk in hand, I started sketching on the cement.

"What are you doing?" Riley gazed at me through hooded eyes.

"Don't move. You're going to ruin my masterpiece."

Her eyebrows rose. However, she proceeded to ignore me and focused entirely on devouring the dessert in her hands. My fingers moved, guiding the chalk to the curves of her face. I wanted to capture that moment. The way her lips curved into a smile.

Her tongue slipped out and licked the yogurt off of the spoon. The chalk broke in my hand, and I shook my head to refocus.

She shivered slightly and moaned as the cold from the night breeze and frozen yogurt traveled down her body. I mentally slapped myself out of it; clearly, my mind was over-sexualizing her innocent actions.

Her hazel eyes fluttered open and met mine. She tapped her feet in excitement. "You done?"

"Ummm," I mumbled like an idiot.

Unfazed by my lack of adequate response, she joined me on the pavement floor. Her mouth opened wide and face fell flat. "I look like a scarecrow," she grumbled, nose wrinkled.

"A very beautiful scarecrow I may add." I winked at her proudly, finally regaining my composure. We both looked at my masterpiece. A true work of art. Considering art was relative.

We burst into pure laughter at my lack of artistic skills.

"Well, sweetheart, do you think you can do better?" I challenged her by placing the chalk in front of her smug face.

She snapped it from my hands, chin held high with confidence. Riley got to work while I reclaimed my frozen yogurt. Delicious.

"You see, when you are drawing a face you have to start from the oval," — she narrated her actions — "then you carve out the face. You have very sharp jaws, so the lines have to reflect that."

Her eyes met mine. "The eyes are the windows to the soul. They can convey so much emotion, so they are the hardest feature of a human to recreate accurately."

My voice came out huskier than intended. "What do you see in my eyes, Riley?"

I leaned forward. My eyes fixated on her slightly parted lips. They were bright pink from the cold of the frozen yogurt and I wondered: if I closed the distance, what would I taste?