RF Arousal Ch 17

Hana spots Riley and rushes over to hug her. Riley has to concentrate not to get choked up; they weren’t close before, but borderline traumatic stuff like what happened in Annette’s basement is the sort of thing that people bond over.

“I’m glad you’re OK,” Riley tells her, not that there’s any reason that Hana shouldn’t be. They all got a little banged up, but Annette’s serum worked the way that it was supposed to. Annette had been the only one to have that bad reaction, thankfully.

“Want to grab a drink?” Hana asks, beaming at her.

“Sure,” Riley replies. It’s not as though she has a better idea.

The hotel bar is nice, and Riley feels out of place. It feels like just a second ago she was sitting in a lecture at the University of Florida’s humble little Gurlberg campus. Her moment as a star of FUTA was entirely too short.

Hana reads her like a book and raises her cocktail. “Adulthood.”

Riley snorts and clinks glasses with her. “What are we doing?”

Hana looks past her, and Riley turns to see Adella approaching.

“Ladies,” Adella says, and her sweaty façade is too much, but Riley isn’t going to give her shit over it. They’ve been through too much.

“Hey,” Riley says. She’s never seen Adella properly dressed; at FUTA nobody ever wore anything other than workout clothes or their uniforms. In jeans and a little Barcelona polo, Adella is like Queen of the Amazons. It makes Riley’s heart thud in a way that’s different from when she looks at girls like Ingrid.

“Good to see you,” Adella says, looking into Riley’s eyes as she arrives, bringing a little waft of something expensive with her. It’s getting easier to understand how all those other players folded so easily for her.

Riley swallows. “You too. Are you OK?”

“Can anyone be after that?” Adella replies, joining them. “What are we drinking?”

“I’m surprised you showed up. Aren’t you rich?” Hana asks.

“My father is.” Adella doesn’t elaborate.

Before she can even order, their phones go off. Everyone checks and sees the same message. A long moment passes.

“Here we go,” Riley says finally, scowling as she sticks her phone in her pocket. “Was anyone planning to come here and do the right thing? Tell her to go fuck herself?”

“Not really,” Hana replies, looking resigned.

Adella shakes her head. “What would it accomplish?”

“Nothing. I know. I know.” Riley feels sick to her stomach as she pushes to her feet.

They ride up to the top floor, where there are several plush conference rooms. They’re all empty except for the one where Annette sits at the table, alone.

“Where are the lawyers?” Hana mutters as they approach the door.

Riley doesn’t know. She’s getting a funny feeling about this.