Love the One You're With (9 page)

“So I think we’ll have fun riding. I’m awful, but Riley’s amazing. When we came last year, he was practically hired by the
stables. He grew up in Texas and has been riding horses since forever.” Layla smiled proudly, two dimples appearing on her
cheeks.

Baby nodded, glancing over at Riley as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in some private rhythm. She’d noticed
calluses on his hands and had assumed they were from playing the guitar. But maybe there was more to him than the musician-type
she’d seen so far.

Finally, they pulled up to a slate-gray stable next to the beach. Unlike the rest of the property, which was filled with palapa-leaf
thatched roofs, infinity swimming pools, and slate floors, the stables looked ramshackle and pleasantly weather-beaten, as
if they’d been there long before the villas.

“Welcome back!” A woman in her twenties ran out from the stables, her long black hair trailing behind her. “I’m Erika,” she
introduced herself to Baby, after giving both Layla and Riley hugs.

“So, what’s your riding experience?” she asked Baby.

“I took lessons when I was younger, but I haven’t ridden in years.” Baby had always loved horses and had begged her mom for
lessons when she was thirteen. But she’d been so disappointed by how many rules there were, how much supervision, and how
slowly you had to go at first—she’d wanted to just ride free. Eventually she’d given it up.

“Okay, we’ll call you a beginner, just to play it safe. I’ll get you some appropriate horses. Riley, will you help me?” She
turned around and walked back to the stable.

A few minutes later Riley emerged from the stables with two horses, followed by Erika. “Okay. Layla, you’ve got Dusty, the
developmentally challenged, super-slow pony, and I’ve got my girl, Nikita.” He turned to Baby.

“Erika set you up with Birdie. She’s sort of a wild card,” he warned. Erika handed Baby the worn leather reins, at the end
of which was a dappled mare, who snorted loudly. “Need a boost?”

Baby nodded as Riley bent down and formed an impromptu step stool with his hands. He smelled like leather and sunscreen, and
Baby’s stomach did an involuntary flip. Instead she focused on mounting Birdie. She was shorter than most people, but she
hadn’t remembered horses being so
big
. Gently, Baby stepped her Puma sneaker on Riley’s palms and swung her leg over the horse.

“Hey,” Baby whispered into Birdie’s straw-colored mane. The horse whinnied loudly. Behind her, Layla was laughing as she struggled
onto her own horse. It was so cool how Layla could laugh at herself like that, without seeming at all self-conscious or insecure.
Instead, Layla just seemed to take life’s adventures as they came, without worrying too much what people thought of her or
what she looked like. Just like Baby.

“Okay, let’s go!” Riley whooped.

“C’mon girl,” Baby whispered, squeezing the sides of the horse gently with her inner thighs. It was weird how quickly it came
back to her what to do. The horse took off, carefully plodding around the stables and down the beach.

“Um, does this thing come with keys?” Layla called. Her horse was standing still, as if unsure what to do with itself.

“Here!” Erika came up to the horse and slapped it. Suddenly, it took off down the beach.

“Woah, thanks, E!” Riley called, laughing as he took off down the beach after Layla and Dusty.

Baby slowly trailed behind as her horse navigated its way down the beach. Once on the sand, it made its way toward the shoreline,
hugging the water. Baby started to relax as she got the hang of riding.

“Hey!” Riley had circled back and now he cantered up next to her. “She’s being gentle with you,” he noted as both horses fell
into step and, as if on cue, turned toward the greenish-blue surf. It looked nothing like the Nantucket ocean, where even
on the nicest days the water was an ominous navy blue. Here, the water was a bright, gorgeous turquoise, sparkling and full
of promise.

“Tell the horse not to go into the water!” Layla shouted as Riley and Baby’s horses easily moved past her, a note of panic
in her voice.

“You tell him. With your thighs!” Riley yelled back, cracking a smile.

“I’d rather tell
you
,” Layla shouted back. “This horse is not a good listener!” Her voice carried on the wind.

“Should we wait for her?” Baby asked.

“She’s fine,” Riley said to Baby as their horses walked along the shore. Already the sun was setting. Baby sucked in her breath.
This
was her idea of paradise.

She closed her eyes for a moment, loving that she could feel the orangey glow of the sun through her closed eyelids. The waves
were gently lapping toward the horses’ ankles, occasionally sending tiny sprays of salt water onto Baby’s legs. Nothing felt
more natural to her than being by the ocean, and she was glad that Riley seemed to understand that. They rode on for a little
in silence, toward the sunset. Even though they weren’t talking, Baby felt strangely comfortable.

Finally, Riley broke the silence. “So, tell me, Baby…”

Baby sighed, knowing he was about to ask her where she got her name. Everyone did, sooner or later. She didn’t blame them,
but it was kind of annoying to always have to explain how her mom had never bothered with an ultrasound and had thought she
was having twins until the triplets were born. Owen and Avery were named after their grandparents, while the third birth certificate
had simply read
Baby
. The name stuck.

Baby opened her mouth to explain, but Riley cut her off. “Two truths and a lie. Go.”

“Me?” Baby asked, surprised.

“No, your horse.” Riley rolled his hazel eyes as he easily led his horse into a gallop. “Come on!”

Baby grinned as she dug her heels into Birdie’s sides, gently but hard enough that the horse broke into a gallop. They chased
Riley and his horse, Nikita, down the beach, kicking up sand as they went. Baby loved the feel of the salty air whipping through
her hair and against her skin.

She quickly caught up with Riley, and he looked surprised as she drew up beside him. Baby shot him a
don’t underestimate me
look, and Riley raised an eyebrow, impressed. He slowed his horse to a walk, and Baby did the same.

“I’m sixteen, I used to have an imaginary friend named Estella, and I have a boyfriend,” Baby said, the two truths and a lie
coming out before she’d even really thought them through. She didn’t know why she’d used the lame boyfriend lie.

Perhaps to let a certain someone know she’s single?

“Hmmm,” Riley considered. The ocean breeze ruffled his thick dark hair. “You’re lying about your age. You’re really twenty-five
and just play the naïve high schooler to get attention.”

Baby shook her head and grinned.

“Well, everyone has an imaginary friend when they’re little, so I guess you have to be single.” His eyes looked hopeful as
he took Baby in. “Right?” He blushed a little and turned forward, speeding up slightly.

“Maybe yes, maybe no.” Baby cringed as soon as she said it. That was not what she should have said. She sounded so
flirty
. But there was just something about Riley that made it impossible for her to think straight.

Riley guided his horse away from the beach and into a densely canopied trail. “We’re heading to the other side of the island,”
he explained as Baby and her horse caught up to him on the path. “That wasn’t a very good two truths and a lie, you know.”

“You put me on the spot!” Baby protested as they rode down the narrow trail. The branches of trees hung low over the path,
and it was darker here, without the sun. It was hard to believe they’d been by the ocean just a minute ago. “Since you’re
apparently the expert, let’s hear it.”

“Okay. I sing seventies songs before I go onstage for luck, I love porcupines, and I sometimes let pretty girls beat me in
a horse race,” Riley said.

He was up a little bit ahead of her, and Baby couldn’t see his face.

“I bet you
do
sing seventies songs,” Baby teased, stalling for time. Had Riley just called her pretty? Her heart was pounding wildly in
her chest, and not because Birdie had picked up the pace.

Suddenly, they came to a clearing. “Oh!” Baby exclaimed. They’d reached a small promontory that overlooked the ocean. They
really had come to the opposite side of the island, facing a completely different direction than they had before. It was the
same ocean, and yet it was even more gorgeous than before. As Baby took in the view, everything felt a million miles away—
Manhattan, Constance Billard, even Avery and Owen and her mom and Remington…

And Riley’s girlfriend?

“I do sing a lot of seventies stuff. It just felt more real back then, you know? All about the music,” Riley began as he drew
up beside her on the promontory, bringing his horse to a stop. “So that’s one.” He held up a hand and counted off his answers.
“Two, I do love porcupines. They’re so weird and so awesome!” He grinned.

Baby sucked in her breath as she waited for him to get to the only answer that mattered to her. She knew he was teasing her,
drawing it out. But she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying it.

“This view is better experienced on solid ground,” Riley announced, easing down off his horse.

“Here,” he said, giving her a hand and helping her down off hers. Baby threw her leg over, so that she was perched precariously
on the edge of the saddle, facing Riley. She slid down, intending to ease slowly onto the ground. But Birdie had other ideas.
The horse jerked forward, throwing Baby off and into Riley’s arms.

They stood there for a moment, his dark eyes locked on hers. “And three?” Baby asked, leadingly.

There was a slight curl to his smile, like he knew a secret that he was about to share. “Three…” he began, tilting his head
ever so slightly toward her. Baby leaned in a little bit closer. She closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to touch hers….

“Hey guys, remember me?”

Baby’s eyes wrenched open. She looked up to see Layla approaching, a little ways down the path.

“Oh my God, you guys were so far ahead, I wasn’t even sure where you’d gone, but then I remembered how Riley loves this little
path,” Layla said as she drew nearer. Baby slowly exhaled as she realized that Layla hadn’t seen a thing. Riley took a step
away from Baby, toward his own horse. “Dusty was, like, about to die,” Layla said, panting and out of breath. Her pony looked
like it was going to keel over at any moment.

“Sorry—it was just such a nice night for a ride. I got a little carried away,” Riley said, pretending to be very interested
in one of his stirrups.

“No worries, I know I was going at a glacial pace.” Layla shook her head. “Anyway, I’m over this,” she said, gesturing to
her fatigued pony. “Baby, wanna head back to the villa and get dinner? Riley can commune with his horse or whatever.”

Baby glanced over at Riley. She didn’t want to leave him. But she knew she should.

“Sure, you girls go ahead,” he said. He was staring straight out toward the ocean, his face inscrutable. “I’ll catch up with
you later.”

“Let’s see which of our horses can go slower, because I bet mine will win!” Layla joked to Baby, already heading back down
the trail. Baby joined her reluctantly, leaving Riley alone.

Never the ideal situation for a Player.

Perhaps because it helps us organize our universe, we all have the urge to classify guys into species. Especially on vacation,
you notice that there are so many variations and breeds. Each type has its own advantages and drawbacks, and navigating the
differences can be tricky. So consider this your very own Gossip Girl Field Guide to Guys.

First—appropriately—there are the alpha males, aka
the Captains of the Team
. They’re incredibly gorgeous and studly, and the second they take their shirts off, concentrating on anything else is not
an option. But all that testosterone means they’re not so in touch with their emotions. Interact with caution: One risks going
insane with jealousy while with them because they’re such girl magnets.

Then there are the romantics, the guys we call “sweetheart,” aka
the Good-Smelling Guys Who Wear Button-Downs
. We can hang out with them all day, like girlfriends, but they’re never going to slam us against the wall and tell us, urgently,
that they want to see us naked. They’re stand-up guys, and they’re solid and dependable. But when with them, listen to your
own inner yawn alert, because boredom can be a killer.

And then there is the tortured artist, aka
the Guy in the Band
—our hearts melt when he sings to us, but sometimes the beads and scruff and sandals and tattoos can be a little too premeditated
and annoying. There’s also the potential wild streak: We love a sense of danger and excitement, but someone’s bound to get
hurt. Proceed with care.

Of course, some guys defy type. And above all, like a good shoe, fit is more important than style. You can pick and choose
all you want, but you have to find the guy that’s just plain right.