by Piper Rayne
Chelsea grabs the box that says strawberry smoothie, reading over the ingredients. “I’m all for health, but—”
“It’s good for the body.” Tad winks and Chelsea shrugs.
“You’re awesome, thank you,” Hannah says as she watches him bag up the supplies.
“Well, don’t thank me yet because you’re going into the locker room and changing. I have a class in twenty minutes and you girls are going to be in it.”
“What?” I ask, not prepared.
“Here.” Tad steps around the counter and leads us to a shelving unit filled with workout gear. “Hannah,” he says, throwing some clothes over his shoulder. “Chelsea.” A pair of pants land on her head before she catches them. “Vic.” I’m prepared and manage to catch my clothes. He turns, his finger padding his lips. “Shoes.” His eyes light up immediately. “Sizes?”
“Can’t we just start tomorrow?” Hannah asks.
“No, time is of the essence.” He claps his hands in front of him twice. “We have until Friday, right?”
I nod.
“You get changed and I’ll be right back.” He walks toward the door of the supply room. “Go!” he says, and we scramble to find our way.
We follow the signs to the changing room and each set our clothes on a bench that runs down the center of the room.
“Tad’s nice.” Chelsea strips down in front of us. I don’t know why I’m surprised to see she has zero inhibitions about nudity. “These are so soft.” She touches the fabric.
“We’ve been besties since high school. Opened this gym a few years ago. His partner Zak is awesome, too. They make a great couple.” Hannah folds up her clothes and places them in a nice pile in an empty locker.
I can’t help but notice how pretty and feminine her lingerie is. Lace and satin. Probably La Perla. Trying to hide my cotton bra and panties, I hurry and get in the yoga pants and endorsement apparel Tad gave us.
Reed comes from the same type of upbringing that Hannah does. Is that what he’s expecting of me? A woman who is always put together? God, I hope not.
My phone dings in the locker.
While Hannah and Chelsea talk about Tad and Zak and how they met, I check to make sure the call isn’t from my mom or something to do with Jade.
Reed: Favorite dish?
I fight the smile that wants to stretch across my face.
Me: I’m half tempted to pick a hard dish like lamb.
Reed: Do you like lamb?
Me: Not particularly.
Reed: Ding. We’re a match.
Me: Not many people like lamb, so…
Reed: Are you underestimating our fate?
Me: Um…I’m clearly stating that it’s some sign that we both don’t like lamb.
Reed: Fine. What about duck?
Me: Never had it.
Reed. What about sushi?
Me: Depends where from and please don’t make that Friday.
Reed: Why? I could get all the supplies. We could do it together and then I can eat it off of you.
Me: Cliché alert.
Reed: Fine, you can eat it off me.
I laugh and Chelsea slides along the bench until her hip checks mine.
Me: As much as I like your body, I’m not sure about eating sushi off it.
Reed: Well I am VERY sure I’d enjoy eating anything off of you. Or just eating you in general. ;)
What was a slight tingle between my thighs a second ago is now an incessant throbbing.
“Shit, this guy,” Chelsea says.
I turn the phone away. “This is private.”
“Fine, I’ll leave your kinky ass to yourself.” She stands and puts her hair in a ponytail.
Me: Can we talk about this later?
Reed: We can test all this out on Friday.
Me: You really are relentless.
Reed: Only when it counts.
My stomach flips a few times.
“Girls!” Tad screams into the locker room. “You have nothing I want to see, but if you don’t get your butts out here now, I’m coming in.”
“Let’s go.” Hannah and Chelsea leave the locker room and I sit on the bench staring down at his text, not knowing how to respond.
Me: Gotta go. Have a great day.
Reed: I’ll be thinking of you.
I shove the phone into my locker, shut the door and lock it, feeling a little overwhelmed by the feelings taking over me. It all seems too quick, too early, too fast. It also seems as impossible to stop as a runaway train.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thursday night, I arrive home from working out early enough to have dinner with Jade, so my mom could leave for a girl’s night out with her friends.
I prepare my shake and watch Jade eat chicken nuggets as my stomach grumbles. The first day of the cleanse was brutal, but I’m getting used to the feeling of my stomach eating itself.
“How was school?” I ask.
“Good.” She mumbles over her food. “I think I have a crush on Logan.”
Oh boy. Is this stuff really starting already? “I think maybe you like him as a friend,” I suggest.
“A lot of girls have crushes on the boys.” She takes a drink of her milk.
“That doesn’t mean you have to. There’s plenty of time for that.” I walk over and smooth out her hair, wondering if I could be the first mom to stop her kid from growing older. Her innocence is slipping away from me.
“It’s not a big deal. He asked me to go to the carnival with him and his mom.”
I sip my shake, my eyes closing while I try to pretend to myself that it’s a real strawberry shake with whip cream. “What about Henry? He probably wants to go with you.”
“That’s what I told Logan. That Henry had to come with us.”
“What did Logan say?”
“He said he’s not into three-ways.”
My shake spews out of my mouth all over the table.
“Mom!” Jade screeches and we both get up to grab the paper towels.
“Sorry,” I say, taking them from her hands and cleaning up the mess while she sits back down to finish her dinner.
“I told Logan that we do four-ways all the time,” she goes on to say while she watches me clean up.
Please, please hold it together, Vic.
“Four-ways?” I ask.
“Yeah, you, me, Henry and Reed,” she says it in the tone of, like ‘duh mom get a clue.’
“At your age, group outings are a good way to have fun.” I walk over to the garbage under the counter and toss the paper towels in.
“Logan doesn’t think so.” She rolls her eyes.
“Well, then I guess he’s going to miss out, huh?” I wink.
“You winked like Reed,” she squeals.
“He must be wearing off on me.”
I haven’t dated over the past two years, so there’s been no one I’ve had to talk to Jade about. No one that would penetrate our bubble, but Reed is slowly breaking past that hard, protective exterior I wrapped around us.
“Can we talk, Bug?” I ask, tears already threatening to spill.
“We are talking, Mommy,” she says, literal as always.
“Yes, we are, but I want to talk to you about Reed.”
“I like him.” She bites one of her chicken nuggets.
“Me, too.”
“I didn’t like you going out with him just you two.” Her lips tip down and she stares at me.
“You know adults sometimes do things on their own.”
“Not you and Reed. You guys take us with you.” She sips her milk and I press the remote to turn off the small television in the kitchen to stop her wandering eyes. “Mom,” she pleads.
“We do take you and Henry with us, but things with Reed are…”
“I know, Mom.” Her hand moves toward the remote, but I slide it away out of her grasp.
“You do?”
“Yeah, you and Reed need privacy. Jamie told me that her parents need privacy and so they lock the do
or on Saturday night and she can’t get in until they open it on Sunday.” My eyes widen, but she carries on. “Is he going to be my second daddy?”
“No, Bug. That’s not what I’m saying. But I do like Reed and we like to spend time with you, but also just the two of us.”
“You like a two-way?” she asks.
God help me.
“I want to get to know Reed better,” I say.
“Like what his favorite game is?”
I shrug, a smile tugging on my lips. “Yeah and to see if I like spending time with him when it’s just us two.”
“Like play together. Logan likes basketball. I told him I like the monkey bars.”
“Kind of like that, yes.”
“Why don’t you just ask him questions?”
I notice she’s running out of ranch dip and needing something to do other than listening to my seven-year-old give me dating advice, I busy myself with the task.
“I do, but the best way to get to know someone is by spending time with them.”
“You keep saying spending time, Mommy, but you mean playing, right?”
I bite my lip. “Sure, if you want to call it that.”
I work really hard not to let my mind drift off with all the playing we could do.
“I’m going to go out with him tomorrow night.” I squirt more ranch dip on her plate and then return it to the fridge.
“What if he likes the same things as you?”
Maybe I’m doing this all wrong, but I’ve never done this before.
“Well, he doesn’t have to like all the same stuff I do. It can be okay to like different things.”
“So, I can have a crush on Logan even if he likes to play basketball and I like the monkey bars?” Her face is so serious it’s hard not to laugh. Part of me wishes I would have recorded our conversation so I could replay it for her when she’s older.
“Most of the time you’ll find that it’s your heart that tells you who you like.”
She glances down to where her heart is. “My heart doesn’t speak to me.”
Yep, I’m lost. No GPS, lost in the middle of nowhere making a bunch of left turns with not a soul in sight. Damn it.
“Your heart doesn’t speak, it feels, Bug.”
Again, her head falls down, staring at her heart. “I feel nothing.”
Trying to lead us back to the main road I try a different route. “You say you love me.”
She shrugs. “You’re my mom.”
“You love Grandma?”
“Yeah.”
“Daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Henry?”
“Ew. No. I like Henry.”
“You’ve only known Henry for a few weeks, but what if you remain friends for years? Then you might love him.”
She shrugs and from the lost look in her eyes, I see this conversation is going nowhere.
“Forget all that. I wanted to let you know that I’m going to Reed’s tomorrow night and Grandma is watching you. You can pick what you want to do together on Sunday.”
I take her dish since she’s done.
“Can I watch television now?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She runs into the other room and I rinse her plate, placing it in the dishwasher. My stomach is empty, and my craving for chocolate is in high gear over the conversation with Jade and the fact that in twenty-four hours I could be naked in front of—or under—Reed Warner.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next day after a long day at work, I walk through the rotating glass doors of Reed’s condo building. I realize now, that his condo is right downtown which means it’s so far out of his way to take Henry to school it’s ridiculous.
“Ms. Clarke?” a man behind the desk asks me, standing up in what I assume is a doorman uniform.
“Victoria.”
His crooked teeth emerge with a smile. “Mr. Warner informed us of your visit.” He rounds the corner and presses the up button on the elevator.
Does everyone get this treatment?
“Thank you for the warm welcome.” I’m not sure what else to say since I’m unused to this kind of thing.
He chuckles quietly like we’re in a library.
“We’ve always got an eye on what’s going on around here,” he says and motions to the ceiling behind me.
I glance around to find cameras in every corner. Seconds later the elevator arrives and the doorman steps in, scans a card, and presses the button.
“When the doors open, step out and then knock three times, click your heels together and use one hand to pat your head while the other rubs your tummy.”
He laughs at his own joke and I lean in to check out his badge. Connor.
The elevator dings as we reach Reed’s floor and the doors slide open.
“I’m only kidding,” he says. “Mr. Warner will be waiting for you. Enjoy your evening.”
I step out and the door shuts behind me. Suddenly, fear washes over me as I think of what this night could bring.
The elevator didn’t take nearly as long as I needed it to and I slowly proceed down the hall, the plush carpet absorbing the sound of my heels. Soon I’m face to face with apartment number 1801. A gold plaque is secured to the outside of the door and it reminds me more of something you’d see in an office tower rather than a residential condo.
Pulling out my phone before I knock, I check out my teeth for the millionth time, finger my hair into position after the beating it took from the Chicago wind and pink my cheeks to give them a little color.
I’ve just finished taking inventory of myself when the door springs open and a mouth-watering Reed stands in the doorway.
“Hi,” I say, turning off my phone and tucking it inside my purse.
“Hey, glad you found me.” He steps to the side, his arm extended inviting me in.
“It’s like breaking into a bank.” I accept his invitation and try to keep my mouth from falling open in appreciation of the marble floors in the foyer.
From his address, I knew he was in the gold coast and when the taxi pulled up outside, I knew the condo would be on a level I was not familiar with. But marble floors, windows that span from one corner to the next and overlook Lake Michigan?
“Sorry, they take security pretty seriously here.”
The click of the lock has me turning to see him strolling toward me. He slides my purse from my shoulder and drops it on the big round table in the foyer.
“Jeez, Reed, you couldn’t afford the penthouse?” I joke following him into the apartment and to the kitchen.
“There’s a retired basketball player up there.” His voice doesn’t hold the sarcasm mine did.
“I was kidding.”
He glances up at me through his long eyelashes. “This was in my family. It’s convenient to the courthouse and the office.” He shrugs and goes back to the meal prep he must have been doing before I arrived.
“You must dread Mondays.” I toe out of my heels and meet him in the kitchen.
His knife pauses mid-cucumber and he waits for me to focus on him. “It’s the best day of the week.”
I blush, wanting to hip check him out of the way so I can have something to do with my hands, keep me busy and prevent me from making a fool of myself.
“So, there’s chicken and potatoes in the oven, and I’m just finishing with the salad.”
“I’m impressed.” I open the oven door and bend down to inspect his skills.
The room spins and fades in and out, my head feels heavy on my shoulders. I feel myself pitch forward, everything in my sight coming in flashes before I feel my hip hit the floor and blackness overtakes me.
“Victoria.” Soft knuckles drag down my face. “Vic.”
My eyes flutter open with some effort and Reed’s face hovers over mine.
Oh my God, I didn’t, did I?
“What happened?” I ask, already cringing because I think I know what he’s going to say.
“You passed out.”<
br />
Oh my God. How mortifying.
“Do you feel sick? Are you diabetic? Heart problems?” he asks in rapid-fire succession.
I giggle from embarrassment because it’s my go-to mechanism to hide what I really don’t want to tell him.
I sit up on his comfortable gray couch. How did I get all the way over here? “No. I just…”
He sits on the coffee table in front of me, his eyes concerned, his hands on my thighs as he waits for me to finish.
“I was on a detox cleanse this week.” My voice is soft and purposely low in the hopes he hears anything else and whatever it might be, I’ll go with it.
He sits back, one corner of his lips tipping down. “Why?”
I draw my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Reed stands and heads over to the kitchen.
I hear the oven open and a dish pulled from the cupboard. A plate put on the counter. Silverware scraping, and I don’t have it in me to turn around and see what he’s doing or get up to help him. I’ll just sit on his couch and act like I didn’t completely ruin our date by passing out on his kitchen floor.
“You didn’t hit your head, thank goodness,” he says from the kitchen. “I was able to slide catch you before that happened. When’s the last time you ate?”
“I had a salad for lunch.”
“And?”
His voice grows closer and I loosen my legs, crossing them on the couch, still not ready to get up.
“A smoothie for breakfast.”
He sits back down on the coffee table holding a plate with chicken, potatoes, and some salad on it, a bottle of water tucked under his arm.
“How many days have you been doing this?”
I peek up. “Five.” My voice is so timid it reminds me of when my dad would hover over me as a teenager and ask me why I snuck out. There was no good answer other than I thought it was a brilliant plan until I slid in through my window to find him on my bed expecting me.