Read Nobody's Hero for Free Online Page B

the lake was incredible.
    One picture. Black and white. An old man—scruffy with a beard and mustache that needed trimming in a major way—and a young boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, standing on a dock holding up a giant fish and smiling like he’d won the Mega Millions jackpot. The old man she thought she might know, but she couldn’t quite place. The boy was Riley. A Riley she’d never known. He’d certainly never looked so free, so happy when she’d seen him at school. Not even later when they’d spent hours in each other’s arms.
    She looked over where he now leaned against a worn wooden kitchen cabinet squinting his eyes and tapping a pencil on a notebook as he waited for someone, his brother probably, to answer the call he was placing. Why’d he have to look so good? Everything would be easy if time had done half to him what it had done to her. But no. He looked better than ever. And God only knew why he wanted to turn every little comment into some sort of sexual innuendo.
    Probably some sort of defense mechanism. A way to push her back. His attitude was one big No Trespassing sign. His mouth Attack Dogs on Guard .
    Fine. She didn’t want to be his friend anyway. He was just some burned out reporter who’d happened along the story of a lifetime. She needed to remember that.
    She was his story. His ticket to fame.
    She listened as he talked to what she supposed was an answering machine. His brother must still be out. Terrific. No telling how long she’d be stuck here with Mr. honey-sweetheart-this- is -the-real-me-Congeniality. He left a short message and clicked the phone back in place before crossing to the living room and falling in the chair next to her.
    She didn’t want to look at him. Somehow she’d let him hurt her feelings. She couldn’t decide whether it was the fact that he was purposefully being a jerk to make her back off that hurt or if it was the fact that he refused to be real. She was so sick of pretenses.
    And that was okay. She didn’t want him to mean any of his outrageous words. She didn’t. But it would be nice for a man to just once look at her with passion, with want, with temptation for more than a few seconds.
    Riley bent forward, rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his strong hands and steepled his fingers. What horrible comment was he working on now? Obviously he wanted to say something. She waited, raised her eyebrows and met his eyes with her own. Creep. Jerk. Why do you have to be so damn sexy?
    Callah crossed her arms across her stomach and Riley tapped his fingers a couple more times. When he cleared his throat, Callah forced herself not to say a word. Not to demand he let her in on whatever top-secret, life saving, super-hero-reporter-to-the-rescue plan he had now.  
    “I better start by saying I was a real jerk a few minutes ago. I’m sorry.”
    Well blow her over and call her a goose. An apology. She couldn’t believe it. Apologies did not come easily to this man. They made him uncomfortable. Good. No way was she going to make this easier.  
    “You were right. I know you were talking about being…” he stopped and she bit her tongue to keep from telling him to forget about it.  
    “…About being friends…of a sort, I guess.”
    He guessed ? What exactly would it take to make things clear? Callah nodded stiffly as she tried to come up with the right words to answer him, but he wasn’t done.
    “I know you think that’s a good idea, Callah. I even understand it. You’re a good person. And even though you’ve been screwed royally by your ex, and even though he could very well be the reason you’re in danger, you see the good in me.”
    She couldn’t let him go on. She just couldn’t. It was too embarrassing.   “I know I’m a story, Riley. I know that’s why you called me. I know that’s why you showed up at my house. I get it. We don’t have to be friends.”
    He nodded once. Twice. The little muscle on the side of his jaw ticked under his