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Chapter Three — Almost
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2026-01-14 08:18:07Rihanna woke to sunlight and the echo of Dennis’s voice still in her head.
For a few confused seconds, she forgot where she was. Then she saw her phone.
Call ended — 9 minutes ago.
Her heart jumped.
A message waited beneath it.
Dennis:
You fell asleep on me. Didn’t want to wake you.
She smiled before she could stop herself.
The realization that they had stayed connected all night—breathing, shifting, existing together in the dark—felt intimate in a way that unsettled her. She lay there replaying fragments of their conversation, his laughter low and unguarded, the pauses where neither of them felt the need to speak.
And then she remembered what he’d said before the call went quiet.
I don’t really do serious relationships.
The warmth faded slightly.
She pushed herself out of bed and crossed to the mirror. Messy hair. Bare shoulders. A girl who felt too much, too easily. The same girl Willow Creek had always known how to judge.
She shook the thought away.
The day passed in a blur of small things. Dennis texted sporadically—enough to keep her tethered, not enough to feel certain. Each time she replied, she wondered if she was replying too fast. Each time he didn’t, she wondered what she had said wrong.
By evening, restlessness returned.
Her phone buzzed.
Dennis:
You up?
Her pulse kicked.
Rihanna:
Yeah.
A pause.
Dennis:
Want to go for a walk?
She stared at the screen.
This time, there was no joking. No emojis. Just the question.
Rihanna:
Now?
Dennis:
Now.
She pulled on her hoodie and stepped outside.
The street was quiet again, like it had been waiting.
Dennis was already there, leaning against the hood of his car. Jack circled her immediately, tail wagging.
They didn’t tease this time.
They walked.
The space between them felt heavier than before. Charged. Expectant.
Dennis slowed his pace until their arms brushed. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t move away.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
Jack tugged the leash again, forcing them closer. Dennis’s hand found hers. This time, he didn’t hesitate.
Rihanna felt it immediately—the shift from comfort to want.
They reached the pond, moonlight rippling across the water. Jack splashed happily, oblivious.
Dennis turned to her.
“You know this doesn’t feel casual,” he said quietly.
Her chest tightened.
“No,” she admitted.
For a moment, she thought he might step back.
Instead, he leaned in.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t rushed either. It was deliberate, charged with everything they hadn’t said. It felt like crossing a line neither of them had named but both had been circling.
When they pulled apart, both were breathing differently. She gulped down hard;
“We should be careful,” Rihanna said, even as she didn’t move away.
His hands still on her hips Dennis watched her, something unreadable in his eyes. not lust but a hunger. She could see the restraint on his forehead as a vein bulged.
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe we stop pretending this is nothing.”
He walked her home in silence.
She stood in her room afterward, heart racing, knowing something had changed.
Her phone buzzed.
A new message from Dennis.
Dennis:
I don’t want expectations. But I don’t want to stop either.
Rihanna stared at the screen.
That was the moment she realized:
Whatever this was — it was already more dangerous than she was ready for.
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