My shoulders fell. “Reese…”
“No, Sarah, honestly, I was. I still am.” He shook his head, staring at the beer can in his hands like it was responsible for all the pain in his life. “Everyone I love gets hurt in some way. I’m like a walking tornado, just fucking shit up and leaving destruction behind. I hurt my family, let them down, took my talent and their generosity for granted, and partied my way through life instead of making something of myself. Then, I broke a woman’s heart who loved me, who cared for me in the worst time. My friend and roommate, Blake.” He shook his head, tears glossing over his eyes.
The sight of that nearly sent me to my knees.
I covered my mouth, chest squeezing so tight my next breath was nearly impossible as I watched him.
“She loved me, and I didn’t see it. Not until I was back here, when she told me,” he said, still shaking his head. “And by then, it didn’t matter. Because I loved Charlie.” He laughed, a tear breaking loose and gliding down his cheek to his jaw. “And I hurt her, too. I hurt everyone. And now, everyone I love is gone. And I can’t even be mad.”
He was hysterical now, laughing with tears brimmed in his eyes.
“Because it’s my own damn fault. Maybe I’m meant to be alone, you know? I mean, I was afraid to even get a dog, scared I might fuck up its life, too. And you know what?” He stopped, every part of him stilling, all laughter gone as he whispered his next words. “To this day, I still feel like it should have been me.”
He lifted his head, his eyes locked on mine. Then, he repeated the worst thing I’d ever heard him say.
“It should have been me, Sarah.”
I swallowed. “No, Reese.”
“Yes. Yes, it should have been. I wish it was. I wish it was me who was gone, and they were still here. I wish I didn’t have to know what it was like to live without them. I wish so many fucking things.”
And then, the man who seemed to carry all his pain on his shoulders broke under the weight.
His head fell into his hands, shoulders shaking as he sobbed. I crossed the kitchen in three steps, wrapping my arms around him like I could shield him, like he was crying from being struck by bullets that I could somehow stop with my own flesh. As soon as I touched him, he sobbed harder.
I couldn’t help but cry, too.
Maybe it was because of my own loss. Maybe it was because I understood everything he said, everything he felt about having to keep living now that his family was gone. Maybe it was seeing a full-grown man break like that, submitting to his emotions, letting me see him weak and vulnerable and not okay.
Maybe it was that my heart was tied to his, perhaps from the very start. And when he was in pain, so was I.
It was impossible to say how much time passed with my arms around him, his face in his hands, the soup growing cold on the stove. Eventually, he grew quiet, his sobs turning to sniffs before he shifted under my arms. I pulled away, letting him straighten, and my chest squeezed again at the sight of his red, puffy eyes.
“God, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for one of the napkins in the holder on his counter. He blew his nose, wiping away the tears from his eyes with an embarrassed glance in my direction. “This might actually be the most mortifying thing I’ve ever done.”
I smiled, but it was weak, falling too soon as I took the seat next to him. “What, you’re embarrassed that you have feelings, that you’re hurting on the anniversary of your family’s death?” I shook my head. “If you didn’t feel like this, I’d be concerned you were a serial killer.”
He smirked, letting out a long, low breath. “Yeah, well, I should have had this breakdown alone. Not with my student.” He eyed me then, smirk climbing. “Not that I had a choice in the matter.”
“I brought you soup,” I defended. “Excuse me for being a nice human being.”
He chuckled, silence falling over us as he wiped a hand over his now-dry face. Reese took a swig from his beer can as an uncomfortable wave rolled over me. I swallowed down the urge to vomit.
“My dad died, too.”
Reese snapped his attention to me so fast I thought he’d broken his neck. He opened his mouth, let it hang there, and then closed it again, waiting a long moment before he spoke. “I thought… you talked about your parents a couple times, I just always assumed…”
“I know,” I said on a sigh, folding my arms over my chest with my gaze on the floor. “I don’t really talk about it much. I don’t really talk about anything, mostly because I feel the same way you do.” I wrinkled my nose. “Well, not exactly the same, but… I understand what you mean when you say that you feel alone. That maybe you’re meant to be that way.”
Reese grimaced. “You’re too young to feel that way.”
I laughed at that. “Yeah, well, I’m too young for a lot of the shit that’s happened in my life. But, that’s just how it is sometimes.”
He was quiet at that, and just as that silence fell over us, a loud rumble of thunder rolled through the house.
“My dad was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, kind of like your family,” I continued after a long pause. “He stopped at a convenience store when it was being robbed. The kid shot him without even a second thought.” I shook my head, remembering the security footage my mother and I had to watch at the trial — like any punishment was suitable for what he’d taken from us. “It was like a nightmare, seeing how fast his life was taken from him. Just a flick of a boy’s finger on a trigger — one not much older than I was at the time — and a bullet was sent straight through my father’s head. And then, he was just… gone.”
Reese’s shoulders fell, and I knew without him saying a word that he completely understood that feeling.
“My life seemed so perfect up until that point,” I whispered. “And I swear, ever since then, everything has gone downhill.”
Reese chuffed. “Isn’t that the wildest part? I felt the same way, like I lived in this bubble of oblivion where I felt invincible, like nothing could touch me or the people I loved. And then that bubble popped, and I woke up in an entirely new world.”
“And this new world is a cruel sonofabitch.”
He nodded, bringing his gaze to me, then. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
I glanced at him just in time to see him close his eyes, like how old I was when it happened wasn’t fair. I guess, in a way, it wasn’t. I was just so used to it, so used to the narrative of my life that I didn’t even know how to feel sad about it anymore.
“I’m so sorry, Sarah,” he said after a moment. “Not that that helps at all. But, I’m just… I hate that you had to go through that.”
Every muscle was wound so tight in that moment that I was physically sore, and I reached back to rub one shoulder as I shrugged. “People have been through worse.”
My eyes met Reese’s then, and the way he looked at me was with a newfound respect, like everything about who I was as a person had changed now that he knew what I’d been through.
If he only knew that wasn’t even the half of it.
A crack of lightning lit up the house, the thunder that followed waking me from my daze. I shook my head, forcing a smile as I stood straight. “So,” I said. “Soup?”
Reese smiled, letting out a long breath like his chest had been wound up tight just like mine. “Soup. I’ll grab the bowls.”
The soup had grown cold, so I reheated it in the microwave once we’d split it between two bowls. Then, Reese and I curled up on opposite ends of the couch, Rojo between us as an old movie played on the TV, the rain still pouring down outside. I wasn’t sure either one of us even watched the film, but the noise was comforting, the occasional reason to smile or laugh a nice relief.
Rojo laid her head in my lap once I’d finished eating, and I rubbed behind her ears absentmindedly, my thoughts drifting all over the place. I thought of my father, of how the anniversary of his death would come up soon. It had been almost six years now, which meant that really, Reese an
d I had been going through the same thing at the same time on two opposite sides of the country. I wondered how many other people were dealing with that grief right now, losing a parent or friend or — worse — a child.
Death never scared me, not after I lost my dad. Truthfully, it was easy to die, to have your life snuffed out and slip into nothingness. Maybe there was a heaven. Maybe a new life started all over again.
Regardless, it wasn’t death that hurt.
It was surviving the death of others that was the real killer, the real pain we should all be afraid of.
And I hated that Reese knew that pain, too.
I was still lost in my thoughts when Rojo heaved herself up off the couch, lazily crossing to where her food was in the kitchen. When she came back, she climbed up on the opposite side of me, forcing her way between the arm of the couch and my body. I laughed, scooting over so she could actually fit, though her hind legs were still in my lap.
Reese snickered. “Just a little over a week here and she already runs this place.”
“She certainly seems to feel right at home.”
“Oh, just imagine that same attitude when we crawl into bed at night.” Reese shook his head. “She takes up the whole thing. I have a tiny little sliver for myself.”
As if she heard him, Rojo stretched out, feet digging into my sides. It didn’t hurt, but it tickled, and I scooted away in a fit of laughter as Reese chuckled, too.
Both of us stopped when my leg hit his.
I sobered, face falling flat when I realized I was sitting right next to him, our thighs in line, the seam of my still slightly damp jeans touching his sweatpants. My eyes trailed up from where our knees touched, following the line of our bodies until I found the hem of his t-shirt, his muscular arm, his broad chest. I swallowed when my gaze trailed over his lips, and the ability to breathe left me completely when my eyes found his.
He watched me with that familiar crease between his brows, his emerald eyes flicking between mine.
“I never thanked you,” he said, his stare more like physical hands holding me to that spot. “For coming over. For not leaving when I was a complete ass to you.” The corner of his mouth flickered into a smile at that, but it fell quickly. “For not looking at me like you feel sorry for me.”
“Trust me,” I said, something between a laugh and a scoff springing from my throat. “Sorry is the last thing I feel for you.”
Reese blinked, his gaze flicking to my lips so briefly I swore I imagined it. “What’s the first?”
I didn’t answer, didn’t have time to answer before his gaze dropped again, and this time there was no second guessing it.
Reese Walker was staring at my lips.
He was staring at my lips like he wanted them for his own, like every muscle in his body ached for him to close the distance between us so he could taste them.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. I just sat there, lips parted, breaths so shallow in my chest that I was dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Reese reached for me with his gaze still on my lips, his hand touching mine before he trailed it up to my wrist, my forearm, gripping me lightly behind my elbow and pulling me in closer.
My breath caught, Reese’s eyes darting up to meet my gaze as his hand continued up my arm. I shuddered when the warmth of his hand slid over my cool neck, his fingers wrapping around the back of it, thumb and forefinger framing my ear. He swallowed, and I watched the way his throat tightened, the way those muscles ebbed and flowed as he pulled me in closer.
My heart thundered under my chest, the pouring rain outside doing nothing to cover it. It was all I heard, the beats of it erratic in my ears, my throat throbbing with the pulse. I hoped it had pushed enough blood to my organs to keep me alive, because it stopped beating altogether as soon as Reese tilted my chin, lowering his lips to mine.
I closed my eyes as soon as our lips touched, the kiss so light and gentle that I almost wondered if it were happening at all. He still cradled my face, our lips barely brushing, and then he tugged me in closer, pressing the full weight of his mouth on mine.
A breathy sigh left my nose, everything that had stopped kicking back to life in a whir — my heart, the rain, time. It all seemed to rush in like a flash flood, taking me down with it. Reese’s breaths came just as hard as mine, like he was drowning too as our lips melded together, my hands threading around his neck, pulling him closer, needing more.
Everything about that man was so hard — the bend of his brows, the sharp edges of his jaw, the muscles under his white t-shirt. But his lips? His lips were the softest command, smooth like rose petals, yet powerful enough to bend me in a silent plea to submit. I opened my mouth on a gasp, and his tongue swept in, both of us letting out moans that sent chills racing down to my ankles.
I climbed into his lap like I’d done it before, like I wasn’t home until every inch of me touched every inch of him, like the cells in his body called to those in mine. My legs spread, knees hitting the couch on either side of him as he kissed me harder. He groaned when our middles met, when the hot center of me brushed against the hardness of him, and he bit my lower lip like it was taking everything in him to restrain himself after that.
Who even was I?
The way I surrounded him, the way I touched him was the way I’d always imagined I would one day — when the right man came along, when I made it out of the house and away from my piano long enough to fall in love. I imagined being kissed just like this, being held just like this, being in control — just like this.
Only this was so much more than I even could have imagined.
Everything about him invaded my senses — the warmth of his lips, the hot pressure of his hands, the strong scent of him; fresh soap, tobacco, pine.
Man.
He was all man, all hard muscle and protective care. He held me reverently, lips moving with slow, calculated pressure as I succumbed to him. I’d wanted that kiss for so long, wanted to feel his hands on me, wanted to have my hands on him. It wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t just a school girl lusting after my teacher.
I saw Reese, just as he saw me.
It didn’t matter if it was wrong, if he was older, if I was his student.
I wanted him.
And the way he touched me, I knew he wanted me, too.
I moaned, hands weaving back into his hair to tug as he released my lip with a pop. And in that moment, I was lost. In that moment, I wasn’t Sarah Henderson at all — I was the object of Reese’s desire. I was the lips he kissed, the skin he touched, the woman he wanted.
Desire pooled between my legs as I rolled my hips against him, and he growled, hands moving from where they framed my face to grip my waist, instead. He squeezed tight, holding me in place so I couldn’t roll my hips again.
And with that small motion, with that completely normal reaction — reality snapped back like a rubber band to my face.
Wolfgang’s face flashed through my vision like a bolt of lightning as Reese released my lips, trailing hot kisses down my neck. I gasped, and he sucked the skin between his teeth, but it wasn’t him I felt anymore. It wasn’t him I saw.
Just relax. I’ll get you where you want to be.
Reese’s hands gripped me harder, his thumbs pressing into my hip bones as another cry left my lips, confusion rippling through me.
Shhh, don’t cry. Don’t scream.
“Fuck, Sarah,” Reese growled against my throat before capturing my lips again. He sucked in a breath on that kiss, pulling me closer, like he could meld his body with mine entirely. “You taste so sweet.”
You taste so sweet.
I pressed my hands into Reese’s chest, and he let my lips go free again, bringing my fingertips to his lips before he moved in for my neck again.
You don’t have to fight. It’s okay, you know.
It’s okay to like it.
“Stop.”
The word croaked through me, but I had no voice. It wasn’t even a whisper, just a dead, silent pl
ea on my lips as my wolf’s claws shredded me from the inside.
“Stop,” I said again, and this time it was a whisper. “Stop, stop, STOP!”
I jumped off Reese in the next instant, body shaking uncontrollably from the loss of his heat, from the memory of my wolf. I fell to the floor as soon as I was out of his lap, and my feet peddled me backward until my back hit his entertainment center. I yelped at the shock of it, eyes wide, heart racing. I could only see Wolfgang, could only hear his voice.
I clamped my hands over my ears and screamed. “Stop!”
The shrill of my scream echoed through the house, Rojo frantically climbing on me like she could stop whatever it was that was hurting me. I creaked my eyes open again, letting my hands fall to her fur. And when I lifted my gaze, I nearly blacked out.
Reese sat on the couch, his hands up like he’d been caught stealing, eyes wide with panic. Heavy breaths wracked through his chest, his lips parted as he watched me.
“Sarah…”
“I have to go,” I said, cutting him off. I peeled myself up off the floor, darting for the front door without another look in his direction.
He scrambled from the couch, hitting his foot on the coffee table in his hurried attempt to reach me. “Sarah, wait. Please.”
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t look at him after what I’d just done.
What I’d just ruined.
“Sarah,” he called again as I ripped his door open.
He quickened his pace, reaching for me just as I bolted out into the rain, his hand barely catching my wrist before I yanked it free.
“Sarah!” he called again, the roar of his voice muted by the rain. I was soaked in an instant, lightning striking across the sky with a crack of thunder so loud I jumped, ducking into the safety of my car with my hands still shaking. They trembled still as I locked the door, struggling with the seatbelt before I shoved the key into the ignition.
Reese was already there at the window, beating on it as the rain soaked him, too. “Sarah, please. I’m sorry. I’m—”
The car roared to life, and I threw it in reverse, squealing out of his driveway without meeting his eyes. I couldn’t even look at him once the car was in the street, once he was there, too — fading under the sheet of rain in my rearview as I sped away.
Best Kept Secrets: The Complete Series Page 66