by J. Daniels
“Reed?”
We break contact, but only our mouths, as a woman’s voice cuts through the air. I’m still clinging to him like we’re on the Titanic and that bitch is sinking fast, and he’s holding onto me like he wants on that door that we all know would’ve fit more than one person.
Her word echoes in my head, and I smile, tagging my stranger with a name. I let my hands untangle from his hair and slide down his body, flattening against his chest.
We’re both panting, lips wet and swollen, ignoring anyone and anything around us.
“Reed,” the voice repeats, but this time in the form of a command.
To look at her. To give back his attention to her.
He doesn’t do either. He’s staring at me with a lost look weighing on his features. As if he doesn’t know whether to keep kissing me, or whether he should’ve allowed it to happen in the first place.
Clearly, he liked it. He was definitely kissing me back. So that second possibility is really throwing me off.
Before I give him the chance to screw this whole thing up with his odd behavior, I decide to handle the conversation that apparently needs to happen.
He can sit this one out.
Keeping my hands on his chest, I look up at the blonde, greeting her with a genuine smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you standing there. Can I help you with something?”
She looks from me, back to Reed, blowing out a quick breath. “Um, no, I just . . .” She flattens her hand on the table and leans her head down. “Reed, can you at least look at me please?”
He pinches his eyes shut through a swallow, then slowly turns to look at her as his hands fall away from me. “What?” he asks sternly, the hand now in his lap curling into a fist. “I’m looking at you, Molly. What the fuck do you want?”
Her mouth drops open, but she quickly contains herself and rights her jaw. Both hands grip her clutch in front of her, and it’s then I take notice of her designer clothing. She’s head to toe in stuff I couldn’t even dream to afford. Tight pencil skirt, silk blouse. I don’t even bother looking at her shoes as I tuck my Dr. Marten’s further under my seat.
Her mouth, shiny with lip gloss, curls into a smile. “It’s been a really long time. How are you?”
“How am I?” he repeats, angry, livid even, and I decide to cut in before Reed flips the table over.
I hold my hand out to her. “Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t get to introduce myself. I’m Beth. Reed’s girlfriend.” His eyes are on me before I get that title completely out, boring into my profile. I give him a quick wink, I got this, before I shake her hand. “And you are?”
“Molly.” She drops my hand all too dismissively, as if she’s already bored by my presence. She looks at Reed. “Girlfriend, huh? I heard you didn’t do that anymore.”
“What, are you keeping tabs on me?”
“Would you like to join us?” I ask before she has a chance to answer him.
I’m not sure who hits me with a more startled look, Reed or this woman.
“Um, no, thanks. I’ll pass,” she answers, not bothering to hide the humor she finds at my request. “I’m meeting up with some people.”
“Are you back?” Reed asks. “My sister said she saw you at Costco.”
“For a month. Then I’ll be headed back to Virginia.”
“Why are you here for a month? You’ve been gone for nine years. Why come back now?”
She holds her left hand up, palm facing her, and even if I didn’t notice the blinding sparkly diamond on her ring finger, I know that universal hand gesture.
Oh, shit.
Reed goes perfectly still next to me. Even his breathing ceases. The music overhead grows distant as I absorb his reaction to her.
He hates her. That I’m sure of. He still loves her. That I don’t know.
I do what any loyal girlfriend would do. I protect him.
“Congratulations.” I smile at her as my hand wraps around the fist in his lap, coaxing it to relax. I feel like I’m squeezing a stone. “You’ll have to let us know where to send a gift,” I add.
She grimaces as if my thoughtfulness distastes her. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’m completely serious. Reed and I are very happy. Why shouldn’t we celebrate when others find love the way we did?” I look over at Reed, finding his eyes already on me.
Still lost. Still mildly terrified by my actions.
“Well, in that case.” Molly’s words have me lifting my gaze to her. She opens up her clutch and withdraws a small, light blue envelope. “We’re having an engagement party next Saturday. You two should come. Show off your happiness.” She throws in that last remark with some sass, and I’m suddenly geared up and ready for this fucking engagement party.
I gladly take the envelope, but Reed snatches it out of my hand and tosses it back at her. It falls to the table.
“I’m not interested.”
Molly smirks as if she knows the game, looking between the two of us. “Right. I didn’t think so.” She snaps her clutch closed and looks down at Reed, ignoring me completely. “It was fun running into you, Reed. You look good.”
Her heels click away on the wood floor, and I slump against my seat, letting out a whoosh of air.
“Wow. She was something else.”
He looks over at me, dropping his elbows to the table, his hands clasped together inches from his face.
“What the fuck was that?” he asks gruffly.
“What was what?”
“The kissing. The girlfriend bullshit.” His head shakes ever so slightly. “What was that?”
“I did you a favor,” I answer defensively, my voice tight with emotion. “I saw the way you reacted to her. I knew she was someone who hurt you, and . . .” I almost don’t say it, but I’ve already made this pretty clear to everyone in this bar. My voice softens. “And I like you, okay? I didn’t want to see you look like that.”
“So you kiss me? What good did that do?”
I suddenly want to slide under this booth and either curl up into a ball or punch this guy right in the nuts. He was clearly hitting on me. I’m sure we would’ve kissed eventually with or without the audience. So what’s the big deal?
Instead of bombarding him with questions, I settle on giving him the same glare he’s giving me as I hide the rejection slow burning beneath my surface.
“You know the best way to get back at someone who hurt you? Without risking jail time? Show them how happy you are with someone else. Even if you’re over the other person, it can still sting. Not always. It was a risk I was willing to take, and it worked. She clearly got uncomfortable seeing you and me together.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t do that,” he hisses. “I don’t . . .” His eyes pinch shut. He turns his head away from me, digging the heel of his hands into his eyes. “What the fuck?” he whispers harshly before raking both hands down his face. He looks over at me. “And roping me into that engagement party? Are you out of your mind? Why the fuck would I want to go to that?”
I reach for the card and hold it out for him to see. “This was a challenge. She’s not convinced we’re together. I bet she doesn’t think we’ll show up to this.”
“We won’t.”
“Maybe you won’t,” I counter. “I can play your girlfriend with or without you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Of course, it’ll be a lot more convincing if you’re there, which I think you should be. This is the perfect opportunity to stick it to that snobby bitch.”
He stares at me in silence, searching my face for reasoning as his taste continues to saturate my mouth.
Watermelon, I think. Maybe the gum he was chewing earlier. It’s sweet, and tangy, and him. I’d go for seconds, but I honestly don’t know what he would do if I attacked him again. I can’t handle him pushing me away, so I keep my lips to myself and savor what he’s already given me.
“Look,” I begin, dropping my hand
s to my lap. “It might be uncomfortable being around your ex and her fiancé, but it’ll be worth seeing that look on her face again when I kiss you. That was priceless.”
“Why are you doing this? What’s in this for you?” he asks, concern flooding his voice.
I set the card down, grab my Kindle off the table, and settle back against the booth. My eyes stay on the screen as it slowly powers on. “I already told you. I didn’t like seeing you look like that. I’m not doing this for me.”
I like you. I want to spend time with you. How obvious do you want me to be?
“I want to do this for you, so I am. It’s that simple.”
He stands from the booth, running a rough hand though his hair before looking down at me. Our eyes lock, and I see that my explanation of my actions isn’t settling him at all. He’s either not buying it, or he’s not okay with it, but I made my decision. I’m going to this thing. Maybe I can convince her on my own that we’re together.
“I’m not going,” he states, his words conclusive. “If you want to go by yourself and pretend we’re something we’re not, go ahead. Have at it.”
His words sting my ears, and something else in my body.
More central, and slightly moronic due to it’s tendency to fall for the wrong guy.
Why is he so different with me now? What the hell did I do besides continue what he started?
“You kissed me back,” I say, halting his first step as he tries to leave the table. He slowly turns his head to look at me, and I swallow hard before I elaborate. “I didn’t imagine that. You could’ve pushed me off, but you didn’t. You really kissed me, and I think you liked it.”
You wanted me. I think you still want me.
His lips part to speak, but he says nothing. That lost look is back in his eyes, and that’s the only thing he gives me before he disappears through the crowd and walks out the door.
I fall back against the booth, clutching my Kindle to my chest.
Reed
THREE DAYS.
Three fucking days, and I still can’t shake that damn kiss.
It doesn’t help that it’s rained every day since Sunday, shutting down the job site and the distraction I desperately need. Work is a really good thing to keep your mind busy, but I don’t have it. I have my cock instead, which is reminding me every time I think I’m over that fucking mouth of hers how wrong I am. I’ve ignored it. I’m not jerking off to a goddamn kiss. Her sexy little body and the image of it tied to my bed while I pound into her, that I have jerked off to. But not that kiss.
I won’t break over something I didn’t even want.
My hand isn’t on my cock because she gave me a wild unlike I’ve ever had.
I’m not stroking myself because she took my mouth and fucking owned it like it never even belonged to me.
And I’m definitely not moaning her name because I liked that kiss.
No, that’s not what’s happening. Not even close.
I fucking loved that kiss. Loved. It.
Me, a guy who goes out of his way to avoid kissing the women he brings home because I don’t give a damn about anything but sex, is ruined from thirty seconds of one chick’s mouth. That perfect fucking mouth. Full, soft lips, the bottom slightly bigger than the top. That wicked little tongue and the way it sought after mine.
She was right. I could’ve pushed her off. I could’ve gotten the hell out of there before completely screwing myself. But I didn’t. I wanted her, and that mouth, and I fucking took it. Or she took mine. Or we both just took what we wanted and didn’t give a damn about the other person because that’s how it felt.
I was greedy and envious of every other man who tasted that mouth before me.
And she was . . . fuck, she was vulgar. Grinding against me, moaning around my lips. Biting and sucking and owning.
Motherfucker. That mouth.
My cock goes limp in my hand the second my thoughts shift to Molly. She had to walk into that fucking bar. It’s like the bitch knew I’d be in there, and she couldn’t wait to shove that fucking invitation in my face. I gave her everything. Every-fucking-thing. I showed her how fucking serious I was about us before she left. Maybe I was a little desperate. But I would’ve waited for her. I could’ve handled four years. I was fucking handling it.
So why . . . fuck, why wasn’t I enough?
The cell phone ringing down the hall pulls me out of bed. I toss the covers aside and stretch my back, flexing my right hand so it doesn’t hold the grip I’ve had all morning. I actually feel the loss of fluids as I toss the handful of tissues into the trash bin and attempt to sprint down the hallway in the direction of my ringtone. My body fatigues quickly, slowing my movements.
Shit. I need some electrolytes.
I grab the phone just before it goes to voicemail and hold it between my shoulder and ear.
“Hey, Mia,” I answer before taking a swig of the Gatorade I pull out of the fridge.
“Hey, you’re off today, right? ‘Cause of the rain?”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Yeah, why? What’s up?”
“Is he comin’? Can I talk to him?”
I smile at Nolan’s voice.
“Can I pweaaase?”
“Nolan, shh, wait a minute.” Mia mumbles something else away from the phone, then blows out an exhaustive breath. “I’m going to ask you because it’s the polite thing to do, but you’re coming. I’m not telling him anything different.”
“What am I coming to?”
“Sal’s. Nolan wants pizza for lunch and he’ll only eat it from there now. He says the crust tastes better or something.”
I smile. Kid has taste. “He’s right. Can’t argue with that. Plus their slices are huge. So, you really get more for your money.”
“Mommy, tell Uncle Weed about my hat!”
“Nolan, go grab your brother’s binky. It’s in his crib,” Mia directs away from the phone. “Sorry,” she says in my ear.
“He sounds excited.”
“You have no idea. He’s been talking about you non-stop since Saturday. Now he wants to go out and buy his own tool belt so he doesn’t have to use yours when you come over.”
“Really? That’s awesome. I thought maybe he was getting bored holding my tools for me. He couldn’t really help out with the digging for the posts. I was worried he’d fall in a hole or something.” I take another drink. “I’m glad he had a good time.”
“Reed, it’s all he’s talked about. Seriously. You know Nolan. He obsesses over things.” She laughs quietly. “Just wait until you see him . . . when you come to lunch, ‘cause you’re coming. He’ll be so disappointed if you don’t.”
I stick the Gatorade back in the fridge. “What time do you want to meet? I need to take a shower first.”
A scalding hot shower. One to hopefully burn away the shame of the past three days.
“That’s fine. I gotta feed Chase before we leave anyway. Wanna meet in like forty-five minutes?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Great. Nolan, Uncle Reed is coming!” she yells away from the phone.
“Oh, yeah!”
Mia’s laugh breaks up her next words to me. “All right. We’ll see ya in a little bit.”
“Yeah, see ya.”
I disconnect the call and toss my phone next to my truck keys.
A distraction. One in the form of an amusing five year old and one of my best friends. This is good. This is really fucking good.
I PARK NEXT TO MIA’S red Jeep outside of Sal’s, grunting when I see Tessa’s Rav4 a few spots down.
Shit. I should’ve known she’d be here too.
Not that I don’t love Tessa, but I know exactly what topic her conversation is going to steer toward, and I’d rather avoid it. But I can’t. Because Nolan’s smiling face spots me through the restaurant window a second after I shift my truck into reverse to get the hell out of here.
Yes, I was going to bail. I would’ve found a way to make it up
to him. He’s not the hardest kid to please.
As soon as I step inside the small, family owned pizza joint, Nolan dives out of the booth they are all sitting at and runs at me, his bright yellow hard hat wobbling on his head.
The strangest feeling washing over me, riddling me with guilt for almost leaving.
“Uncle Weed! Look at my new hat!”
I set it straight on his head, tilting it back ever so slightly to see his eyes. I smile down at him. “Looks good on you, little man. Are you wearing that all the time?”
He nods quickly, his one hand clamping down on the hat to steady it. “Do you weawr one too, Uncle Weed?”
“Sometimes.”
His face falls, the elated happiness ripped from his expression. I glance up at Mia who is watching us a foot away, her face pinched in distress in response to my answer. Tessa flips me off behind her menu.
Shit.
“Uh, yeah, I wear it all the time,” I recover quickly. “I just didn’t have it with me on Saturday because I left it at the job site. But I should’ve had it.” I knock a fist against his hat. “Safety first.”
He grins, his dimples hollowing out his cheeks. “Cool.” He slides into the booth next to Mia who is cradling Chase against her chest. She slowly shakes her head at me.
“Sorry,” I mouth.
“It’s okay,” she mouths back, smiling.
“So,” Tessa begins, drumming her nails on the table after dropping her menu. I look over at her, watching the calculating smile spread across her lips. “I’ve already filled Mia in on your news. She agrees with me and is also interested in pursuing vehicular manslaughter.”
“Tessa,” Mia scolds in a warning tone. She tilts her head to the side where Nolan is sitting. “Let’s not teach him new phrases to repeat, okay? He’s already picked up Ben’s favorite word and brought it up in Sunday school last week. Now the whole class is referring to cats by their other name.”
I drop my head, laughing silently next to Tessa who isn’t holding hers back at all. She’s falling against me, her loud cackles filling the restaurant.
“I would’ve loved to have been there when you got scolded by the nuns,” Tessa says between her hysterics. She sits up and wipes under her eyes. “Who was it? Sister Francis?”