Reed

by Sawyer Bennett

  I had just blinked in surprise at Reed for a few moments before I could unglue my tongue from the top of my mouth. "Well...he knew me about thirty-four months longer than you did. I would think you wouldn't be able to compare knowledge."

  "So, I'm trying to learn more about you," he said stubbornly, and I thought it was adorable. So much so that I rolled over on top of him and shut him up with a hot kiss, which led to other things.

  When we came up for air much, much later, he informed me he was taking me out to a really nice dinner tonight and I should be ready to go at 8 P.M.

  It's only 7:45, which is why I'm still in the bathroom putting on mascara, and not in the slightest bit feeling guilty that Reed's waiting for me.

  "Two minutes," I answer, and continue putting another layer on my lashes.

  If he had a response to that, perhaps a grumble that I'm still fussing in front of the mirror, he doesn't have the chance to say it. His phone rings and I hear him say into it, "Yo...Rek."

  Except he pronounced it "Rick," which drives Marek nutty. He doesn't mind the nickname Rek, but he wants it pronounced right, but of course Reed never does.

  "I'm over at Josie's," he says into the phone, and I'm guessing Marek wanted to know what we're up to tonight.

  Sorry, buddy. Tonight is date night with my man and you aren't invited.

  "Yeah, sure...come on over," Reed says, and I roll my eyes at myself in the mirror.

  Sticking the wand back into the tube, I toss the mascara into my makeup bag. Reed pops his head in the bathroom door. "That's Marek. He seems totally wigged out about something. He's over at my house and--"

  The loud knocking on my door has Reed giving me a sheepish grin. "I'll get rid of him."

  "We've got time," I say, brushing off his worry. "You said we didn't have to leave until eight, and as it happens, I'm all done and ready to go."

  "And you look spectacular, Dr. Ives," Reed says as he runs his eyes appreciatively over me. I went with a wraparound dress with a geometric pattern of dark blues and grays. I paired it with a pair of matte silver heels and left my long hair down loose and curly. I went all out on the makeup, and I know it's got to be a bit of a shock to Reed to see me this way. He's always called me beautiful even when I'm without makeup and in wrinkled scrubs, but the glow in his eyes right now warms my belly, and I make a note to dress up more for him.

  There's more knocking on the door, this time louder.

  "Damn," Reed mutters as he turns away and heads through the bedroom. I follow him, snagging my silver hoop earrings off my dresser. I'm putting the last one in as I hit the bottom of the stairs and see Reed opening the door.

  Marek bursts in past him, eyes all wild. He glances at me, but it's as if he doesn't even see me. He spins on Reed and says, "Man...I am about to freak the fuck out. I'm getting ready to do something really stupid, and you better stop me."

  Okay, this isn't funny, as it's clear Marek is distressed.

  "What's wrong?" Reed asks. Marek stomps into the living room and starts pacing, one hand clutching his cell phone and the other scrubbing at his hair.

  Marek doesn't answer, looking to be in deep concentration. Reed says, "Marek...dude...what's going on?"

  Spinning on Reed, Marek growls out, "What's wrong is that my ex-girlfriend, Gracen, is getting fucking married tomorrow and I have to stop the wedding."

  "What?" Reed and I exclaim at the same time.

  Marek's eyes shift to me and he nods as if he's just now realizing I'm there, before turning back to Reed. "I'm taking a plane out of here first thing in the morning to New York. I'll be damned if she's going to marry Owen Waller, the town's biggest douche bag."

  "You just told me you wanted me to stop you," Reed says carefully, and Marek's eyes narrow.

  "Did I?" he hisses, and I'd find it comical if it wasn't so obvious that Marek is really upset. "Well, I'll kick your ass if you try to stop me."

  Reed shoots me a look and I shrug back. I have no clue how to handle this. Marek ignores us and goes back to pacing, only to stop and look at something on his phone with wild eyes.

  "See that?" He holds the phone out, screen pointed at us, but we're too far away to read it. Apparently he doesn't expect us to, as he turns it toward himself again. "Got this fucking email just a little bit ago. Some anonymous person, but it's probably that fucking douche Owen himself who sent it to me just to rub my nose in it."

  "What does the email say?" I ask him hesitantly.

  Marek sort of jolts as if he's really just understanding that there are two other people in the room with him and he's engaging in a conversation with them. He gives a confused shake of his head, then reads from his screen. "Marek...I feel like you need to know that Gracen is marrying Owen Waller on August 26. I don't need to tell you that she'd be making a colossal mistake. No one can talk her out of it. Perhaps you can."

  He looks back up to us and says, "It's not signed, and I don't recognize the email address."

  "Um," Reed says hesitantly, and takes a few steps toward Marek as if he's a wild animal. "Why don't you tell us who Gracen is and why is this bothering you so much."

  "She's no one," Marek says bitterly, but you can tell that's a lie, otherwise he would not be freaking out.

  "Try again," Reed says, and the staunch tone in his voice seems to center Marek.

  After a long breath in and back out again, Marek says, "We dated all through high school and college. It ended badly when I entered the draft after I graduated."

  "Define ended badly," Reed commands as he crosses his arms over his chest. It's a very good question, and one I'd ask because I'm nosy. But Reed is Marek's closest friend on the team along with Holt, and it's not my place.

  "I ended it because I wanted a little freedom," Marek mutters, and I can hear the shame in his voice. "Wasn't ready to settle down with my NHL career just starting. So I broke it off with her, and last I'd heard, she went back to our hometown. She's a neonatal nurse."

  "And you've not had any contact with her since?" Reed presses for more of the story.

  Marek shoots Reed a frustrated look but answers grudgingly, "No. I mean...I cut it off. We went our separate ways. I haven't heard anything about her in four years."

  I sometimes forget that Marek is a few years younger than Reed and me. He didn't enter the NHL until after college, and he's only twenty-five right now. That age difference has never been apparent before, but it is now. He's freaking out over an ex-girlfriend he left behind and hasn't thought about.

  So either there's an emotional immaturity causing this, or he's lying to himself and he truly never left her behind in his heart. Knowing Marek, I suspect the latter.

  Reed asks the most important question. "Why is this bothering you then?"

  Marek glances around the room as if he'll find the answer lurking behind my couch. He looks helplessly back to Reed and shrugs. "Because this guy is an asshole. I mean like the type who would rough up girls he dated in high school. He's from a really wealthy family, and they're all douche bags. Entitled. Think their shit don't stink. Trample over the small people. He's an asshole and a dipshit and Gracen doesn't deserve to get stuck with that."

  "Maybe he's not like that anymore," Reed suggests.

  Marek rolls his eyes. "Trust me...that zebra would never change his stripes."

  "Then I'm going to point out the obvious," Reed challenges him. "You left her behind. You've got no right to step in and stop this wedding."

  "Well, fuck you very much," Marek shouts at Reed, his face turning practically magenta in his rage. Reed takes a small step back in surprise. "I need a real solution here, and it can't be to ignore it."

  Reed doesn't respond and they engage in a staring contest. Neither one seems to know what to do, but damn if I don't.

  I cough lightly to clear my throat. Reed looks at me, but Marek just continues to stare daggers at Reed.

  "I think you should go and stop the wedding," I state firmly.

  Reed's eyebrows practical
ly shoot out of his head, but Marek turns to look at me with such a look of complete and utter gratitude I know that's exactly what he needed.

  "And I think Reed should go with you so you don't get arrested or something," I add. Reed's eyes narrow at me in a glare but I ignore him.

  I walk up to Marek and put my hand on his arm. "Now, I want you to go home and chill out. Get packed and try to calm down. You'll get this sorted out tomorrow. Go ahead and make two plane reservations and you can pay for the tickets too."

  Marek nods at me, his eyes slightly glazed, but I can tell he's pleased with this plan. "Yeah...okay. That's sounds good. I'll text you the flight details."

  "Perfect," I say brightly, then lead him to the door. I can feel something heavy vibrating in the air around Reed as I pass him, but I don't worry about it. I sense there's something deep within Marek that needs to do something about this girl Gracen. I don't know if it's to stop a wedding or to let go and get closure, but I know he's going to have to go there for that to happen. And he totally needs Reed to keep him out of trouble.

  After I close the door behind Marek I turn to find Reed looking at me inscrutably. "Not sure whether to kiss you or spank you," he finally says.

  "Kiss," I say demurely as I grab my purse off the foyer table. "But also feed me. Don't we have dinner reservations to get to?"

  "You know you just opened up an entire can of worms for that boy," Reed says disapprovingly.

  "Yup," I acknowledge. "But he needs to do this. I'm confident about that."

  Reed gives a sigh that sounds like agreement and mutters, "Yeah...I know. Just don't know why I have to be the one to baby-sit him."

  "Because you're wonderful," Josie says with playful bump of her shoulder to mine, and I guess that's an acceptable reason.

  Chapter 23

  Reed

  "Just wait a minute," I say to Marek as he slams the rental car door shut. I'd hopped out of the passenger side as soon as he put the car in park.

  He turns to face me over the roof of the car, the steeple of St. Luke's Catholic Church rising high behind him. I take a deep breath and let it out, "Just...before you go in there, I got to know. Are you going to try to make something with her?"

  I'm referencing Gracen, who right now is just moments away from getting married and without any idea that Marek is getting ready to cause havoc in her life. While I think Josie definitely had some merit last night in pushing Marek to come here to New York, I'm not looking forward to dealing with the fallout. I don't think Marek is going to walk away from this in one piece, no matter what happens in there.

  His eyebrows rise as if he'd never even considered my question. He shakes his head. "No, I'm not going to make something with her. I broke it off and left that far behind."

  "You just flew five hundred miles to stop a wedding. You did not leave it that far behind."

  Marek puts his forearms on the roof of the car. "Look...I left her behind and don't regret it, but it doesn't mean I don't still care for her to some extent. I don't want her to marry this asshole. Trust me, Reed, he is very bad news and she shouldn't settle for that."

  "Not buying it," I tell him as I also put my forearms on the roof. I lock my eyes with his. "You don't stop a wedding like this unless there's something more there. I just want you to be prepared for the fallout this is going to cause, and, dude, if you're in denial about having something with her, you better reason that shit out in your head before you go in there."

  Marek stubbornly shakes his head again. "I don't want a relationship. It's too hard, particularly with our hectic schedule and being away from home so much. It's too much pressure, and I don't want it. I only want to focus on my career. Besides, you know we're hardly the types of guys who are relationship material. Look how many divorces happen on our team, or cheating while on the road. Why even bother with that shit? My theory is you keep it casual because we have enough on our plate concentrating on our game, and fuck if I don't want another Stanley Cup this year. I can't be worrying about a woman and my game at the same time."

  On the surface of his statements, it would be easy to roll my eyes at him for being so shortsighted, but sadly, there's something in what he just said that speaks to me. I've been thinking a lot these past two days about my talk with Aiden, and all the ways in which I'm failing Josie. I mean, how many other ways are there that I don't even know about yet?

  All of this presses down upon me. I can actually feel the weight of my worry, wondering if I'm going to do her right in the long run. Will this worry intensify or work itself out? Do I have what it takes to put my efforts into my career and into making something with Josie, for whom I care about very much?

  Like Marek, I want another fucking Stanley Cup too. This year the pressure is going to be incredible, because it's next to impossible to win three in a row. It hasn't been done in almost three decades.

  "You get what I mean?" Marek asks me, and I have to nod. I sort of get where he's coming from.

  "Just don't want you to get hurt in there, is all," I tell him. "Making sure your expectations are met."

  "My expectations are I stop her from marrying this prick and then she goes on to lead a long, happy life without him."

  I don't point out that he failed to add, "with someone else." I wonder if that was intentional or subconscious.

  Regardless, I can't let that bother me right now. I've got to make sure Marek comes through this all right.

  "Okay," I tell him with a confident smile. "Let's get this done."

  I follow Marek into the church. He walks with purpose and as if he knows where he's going. The first thing he does is walk through the vestibule to peek through the double doors to the sanctuary. When he pulls back, he says, "Hasn't started yet. Come on."

  He then heads down a hallway on the right, takes a left, and goes down three doors to a door that says CLASSROOM 1. Looking at me, he grins, "This is where the brides always get ready."

  "And you know that how?" I ask him.

  "Many years as an altar boy in this church."

  I nod and Marek boldly pushes the door open. He slips in and I follow him, shutting the door behind us.

  My eyes immediately go to a woman--a bride--standing by a window that looks out over the church playground. She's got both hands on the window sill and her head is bowed as if in contemplation.

  She doesn't look up at us but says in a quiet voice, "I need five more minutes, Bev."

  "You'll need more than that," Marek says in a hard, gritty voice. "Because you aren't getting married today."

  Gracen spins around to face us and her wide eyes lock on Marek without even looking at me once. Her petite frame goes stiff and I'm struck by how beautiful and sad she looks at the same time. She's short like Josie, but her hair is golden and wound up in an intricate-looking style topped by a jeweled tiara. Her eyes are strikingly blue, same as Marek's.

  "What are you doing here?" she gasps in disbelief.

  "Heard you were going to make the stupidest mistake of your life and I came to stop you," he answers blandly, as if he stops weddings all the time.

  Gracen's eyes narrow to tiny slits and she takes two menacing steps toward Marek as she grits out, "You have no right. You gave that up a long time ago."

  "Consider this a public service duty, then," Marek says as his eyes flash hotly back at Gracen. "Owen Waller is a douche, and frankly, I can't believe your family would even give you their blessing on this. Everyone knows the guy is a bad seed."

  "He's a fine, upstanding member of our community," she retorts as she stops before reaching Marek. She clasps her hands in front of her, looking suddenly serene and at peace with her decision to wed today. Marek snorts in disgust. "He's a spoiled, entitled pig who still preys on the weak. For fuck's sake, Gracen. He used to beat up kids for their lunch money. He bullied everyone that wasn't as rich or popular as he was. He's so far up his own fucking ass he'll never make you a priority."

  Gracen's face is flushed red and I expect her to def
end her fiance, but she merely says quietly, "This isn't any concern of yours. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave."

  Interesting. She's not denying any of the things Marek just said, which means she knows she's marrying an asshole.

  "Call the wedding off," Marek says with a dark smile. "And I'll gladly leave."

  "I'm sorry you came all this way to tell me your opinion, but I'm marrying Owen today and nothing you say is going to stop me."

  For the first time, Marek's confident facade slips and his expression grows dark. He opens his mouth and I brace for whatever is about to come out, because I know it won't be good.

  But then the door opens and a tiny, dark-haired girl peeks in. "Mommy...Aunt Bev said it's really time this time. You have to come and she said no more stalling."

  Marek glances at the little girl and then back to Gracen with smug pride on his face that apparently Gracen's not as anxious to get hitched as she is making it out to be. But then the smile instantly slides off his face and his head snaps back to the little girl, who has now walked into the room.

  His eyes narrow, which makes me turn to look at her more closely.

  Dark curly brown hair. Crystal blue eyes. Dimples in her cheeks.

  Fuck. It's a mini-Marek standing there in a little white dress!

  Gracen brushes between Marek and me to reach the little girl. She bends over and kisses her on the head. "Okay, baby. I'll be right out. Tell Aunt Bev I just need five more minutes."

  The little girl rolls her eyes and grumbles, "That's what you said the last time."

  "I know," Gracen says as she turns her toward the door and gives her a little push out. "But I promise this time. Five minutes."

  Gracen shuts the door but doesn't turn to face us. Her head bows and her shoulders hunch in defeat.

  "Is that...is that..." Marek stutters, unable to actually form the words that could put into reality something he's not ready to really hear.

  Lifting her head and turning to face Marek, Gracen says, "Your daughter? Yes."

  Every bit of blood drains out of Marek's face and the blue in his eyes goes flat. His jaw drops, and for a moment I think he might pass out. But then the hothead I know surfaces, and his eyes turn almost red with rage.