❛ Someone To Call My Lover ❜
★ ₊˚. ❪ the first date ❫
riley ┊ prologue ┊❝ 000 ❞
▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅

IT WAS ALL RILEY. His first big case — the kind that rookie cops dream about on day one, where one lucky arrest suddenly feels like it could take over the headlines. People would have clapped him on the back, saying "Congratulations," if he hadn't already brushed off the praise.

For Riley, every win was never about him. It was always about something bigger. Someone more important.

Because if you asked Riley? This wasn't just his win. The credit, as far as he was concerned, belonged to his older brother, Smitty. The same Smitty who, to most people, looked like he slogged through life just to collect his paycheck at the end of the week.

But Riley? Riley knew better. He knew Smitty wasn't just a cop doing the bare minimum. He was so much more —quietly kind, a little weird, but downright special and amazing in ways most people would never take the time to see.

Like the time some little girl lost her dog, and while anyone else might've shrugged and said, "Sorry, kid, nothing we can do," Smitty spent two whole unpaid days searching through alleyways until he found the lost pup hiding under a dumpster. The look on that girl's face when Smitty brought her dog home? Priceless. The recognition he got for it? A casual "good job" from the watch commander. That was it.

But Riley didn't need anyone else to tell him what kind of man his brother was. He knew. Through every twist and turn life had thrown their way, the bond between the brothers had only grown stronger, even with seven years separating them. It wasn't something anyone could explain — it just was. When Smitty was seven and their mom's divorce had flipped his tiny world upside down, it felt like the universe gave Smitty nine months later a chance to make up for everything lost. When Riley came into the picture, Smitty didn't hesitate. He embraced his role like it was instinct, like it was something he'd always been meant to do. Before Riley could even swallow solid food, Smitty was microwaving Kraft dinner for him while their mom juggled life with two jobs and too much stress. It was what he knew how to do, and he always made sure it was warm and overly cooked so it was like an artificial cheese mush.

And it wasn't just in those early days that Smitty showed up. On Riley's first day of kindergarten and Smitty's first day of sixth grade, Smitty skipped his usual morning routine just so Riley could cling to his hand a little longer before saying goodbye. And when life handed Smitty its share of love and then heartache — one marriage falling apart, then another, then a third — Riley never wavered. Each time, he stood tall as Smitty's best man, proud to be there for him in ways that no one else could. That's just what brothers did. A loyalty like that didn't need words, it was there, steady, unyielding, always.

Tonight, watching Smitty get the win he so desperately deserved, Riley knew he'd done the right thing. Angela saw it, too. She stepped closer, casually, to where Riley leaned against his cruiser, his posture relaxed but his mind somewhere else.

"It's nice what you did for Smitty," Angela said, her voice light but layered with meaning. Her gaze drifted to the scene in front of them — fellow officers shaking Smitty's hand, clapping him on the back, maybe even trying to take credit for the win themselves. Angela's lips twitched with a gentle smirk as she added, "He's so happy, it's almost... weird."

Riley turned toward her, flashing that easy smile of his. "Hi, Angie." His voice was warm, casual, but there was something deeper beneath it. "He sure does look happy, doesn't he? He figured out his place. This is where he's meant to be."

Angela's cheeks flushed faintly at the nickname, but her tone stayed playful as she replied, "Oh, I bet he did."

Riley's smile softened, turning earnest as he added, "I mean it, Angie. This was all him. It always was."

Angela's gaze lingered for a moment, taking in the scene before her. One officer was kicking a trashcan half a block away, probably bitter about the attention Smitty was getting. Her smirk widened slightly. "Alright, Moon. Are you two going to celebrate? It's been months of hard work — this case is huge."

Riley shrugged, casual as ever. "Nope. Smitty's heading home to drink with Kelly in celebration. I figured I'd swing by the bar, tell a wicked story, and maybe exaggerate a few details to whoever's willing to listen."

Angela's eyes sparkled, the kind of look Riley had learned to recognize by now. "Sounds fun. I'm in."

Caught off guard, Riley coughed out, "What?"

Angela's smile widened, daring and confident. "It's a date. Say seven? Julio's Bar, their margaritas are worth it."

As Riley watched her walk away, the cool night air hummed around him, a mix of anticipation and quiet gratitude sinking into his chest. And as the promise of an unexpected first date settled into his thoughts, Riley couldn't help but smile.

🪐

THE NEON GLOW of Julio's Bar spilled into the street, casting shades of red and blue over the sidewalk. Inside, the place was buzzing — the hum of laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of someone singing along to the music made it feel alive. Riley leaned against the bar, swirling his margarita in its salt-rimmed glass absentmindedly, his thoughts flitting between the weight of the night's big win and the fact that Angela was actually here, sitting across from him.

Angela tapped the edge of her own glass, her lips curved into that teasing smirk Riley was quickly realizing might just be her signature look. "So, Riley," she started, her tone playful. "How much of tonight's story are you planning to, uh, embellish? I bet you're the kind of guy who'd add a high-speed chase or a daring rooftop jump just for dramatic effect."

Riley chuckled, shaking his head as he raised his glass in mock offense. "I'd never. My stories are 100% truth. Well... okay, maybe 90%. It depends on how good the margaritas are."

Angela arched an eyebrow, taking a sip from her glass. "Uh-huh. And let me guess, in your version of the story, Smitty single-handedly took down the suspect with some kind of backflip and a one-liner?"

Riley tilted his head thoughtfully, pretending to consider her suggestion. "Now that you mention it, that does sound better than the real thing. You've got a knack for storytelling, Angie, I might just make you my co-writer."

Their laughter blended into the lively atmosphere of the bar, the easy back-and-forth making Riley forget, just for a moment, the chaos of the day. He hadn't expected tonight to feel so... natural. Angela had a way of making things lighter, smoother, like she could slip into his world without a single misstep.

As if reading his thoughts, Angela glanced toward the karaoke setup at the corner of the bar. A cheerful host was calling for the next singer, waving the microphone like a beacon. Riley noticed Angela's eyes light up, and her lips curled into a mischievous grin.

"Oh no," Riley said quickly, holding up a hand. "Don't even think about it."

"What?" Angela feigned innocence, setting her glass down. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to," Riley replied, narrowing his eyes. "I know that look. You're about to sign me up for something."

Angela shrugged, her grin widening. "Well, now that you mention it..."

Before he could stop her, she was already walking toward the sign-up sheet. Riley groaned, sinking lower in his seat, but couldn't help the smirk tugging at his lips. When she returned, she handed him the microphone with a look so smug, Riley considered pretending he didn't know how to hold it.

"Livin' on a Prayer," Angela announced proudly, sitting back down and crossing her arms like she'd just won a prize.

"You're relentless," Riley muttered, but he stood anyway. If nothing else, he was determined not to look like a wimp in front of her. As the opening chords blared through the speakers, he took a deep breath and gave it his all — belting out the lyrics with over-the-top enthusiasm. By the second verse, half the bar was singing along, and Angela was laughing so hard tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

When Riley returned to the table, flushed and grinning, Angela pushed her drink toward him. "Here," she said, her laughter still bubbling beneath her words. "You've earned this."

Riley took the glass, shaking his head in amusement. "I should make you sing next. Fair is fair."

Angela leaned closer, her smirk softening into something warmer, her voice dipping just slightly. "Maybe next time," she replied. "For tonight, I think you've earned the spotlight."

Their hands brushed as she slid the glass to him, and Riley felt the moment spacial — a quiet hum beneath the noise of the bar. He hadn't expected a night like this. But as he looked at Angela, her smile easy and her eyes bright, Riley realized he didn't mind surprises. Not tonight, anyway.