by Diana Gardin
“Come on, man,” complained Tate. He groaned as he pushed the set of barbells toward the ceiling.
Reed stared down at his friend, his fingertips barely touching the ends of the weight Tate was currently pushing skyward. He knew this conversation was coming, and he didn’t need Tate’s permission to take the girl he couldn’t get out of his mind on a trip. But he ran his plans by his friend anyway, against his better judgment.
“You’re going to Atlanta, a way bigger city than this, and you’re going to a fucking music producer’s house to cut songs. You’re gonna be in every man’s paradise, and you’re tying a weight around your ankle? What the fuck is wrong with your ass?”
Tate finished his tirade in a grunt of exhaustion as he let the weights drop to the floor beside the bench. They often caught a workout together in the gym at their condominium community, and today Reed had decided to mar their usually relaxed time together with the bomb about taking Hope to Atlanta with him.
“Look, man, I don’t expect you to understand. But have you seen Hope? How the hell would I be able to screw around with other women when I have someone like her just waiting on me back here? Huh?” Reed ran his hands agitatedly through his hair, because he was fearful that Tate was right. Never in his life had he turned down an opportunity for an easy fuck and a good time. Never. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that even if he didn’t bring Hope with him, he wouldn’t be cruising downtown Atlanta on pussy patrol with the music execs.
Maybe a few months ago. But not now.
“God,” said Tate, staring at him. “You’ve turned into a female, Reed. And I mean that in the worst possible way. You’re going to turn down a chance at groupie pussy in order to come home to the same old piece of ass you banged the night before.”
Reed busied himself with taking off his weight-lifting gloves and setting them carefully on the bench next to him, not meeting Tate’s disbelieving gaze and not saying a word.
“Wait a goddamned minute,” said Tate, his voice rising. When Reed still didn’t look up, Tate let out a slew of curses.
“You tell me, right the fuck now, that you aren’t bringing Hope with you to Atlanta on the off chance that she might fuck you, because you haven’t actually nailed the chick to a bed yet. You tell me that right now.”
Reed was silent, although his face was beginning to darken at the manner in which his friend was talking about Hope.
Tate raised his head to the ceiling and howled with laughter. “Now I know you’ve lost it. You’ve lost it, man. Your balls, my respect, all your damn marbles. What the fuck?”
“Shut the hell up,” said Reed defensively. “You’ve seen her. She’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met. Of course sex was all that was on my mind when I first saw her. But then I walked in on that first situation I got her out of, and after that she was already different. It’s not like I haven’t been physical with her at all, but we mutually decided to lay off the sexual stuff. And now…fuck.”
He let his head fall into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. His fingers pulled at the strands of his hair with painful intensity as he ran over his relationship with Hope in his mind.
“Now I couldn’t go anywhere if I tried. I take three cold showers a day, man, just because I remember what it’s like to touch her bare skin and kiss those damn full lips. I’m turning into a fucking pussy, and I like it. I don’t want anything else. Anyone else.”
Now Tate’s expression was just comical. His mouth was hanging open in amazement, his wide green eyes staring intensely at Reed.
“Forget it, Tate,” mumbled Reed. “I should be talking to Sam about this. Or Blaze.”
Tate shook his head quickly. “Naw, man. I….I get it. I don’t think I’ll ever know what that feels like, but I get it. It’s sad you haven’t even bagged her yet to see if she’s worth it, but shit. I never thought I’d see the motherfucking day.”
Reed sighed. “Me, neither. And I swear to God, if you talk about her like that again, I’m going to smash one of these weights into your ugly face, roommates be damned.”
Tate laughed. “My bad, man. Old habits.”
Seventeen
It was an extreme stroke of luck. Wendy and Frank were going to Florida for a long weekend away, and their trip would overlap two of the days Hope would be gone. She spoke to the lead member of the housekeeping staff about Violet, ensuring that the woman would stay with Violet while Hope was gone.
“I’m going to be fine, you know,” gasped Violet as she dragged Hope’s huge rolling suitcase down the hardwood hallway toward the foyer.
“I know that,” answered Hope, biting a strand of hair nervously. She swallowed down the guilt she’d been wrestling with over leaving Violet for a few days. “I had a long conversation with Maggie about it and she’s on top of things. It’s only going to be three days, sweetie. Just try and stay out of Wendy and Frank’s way, and call or text me if you need anything.”
“Yeah, yeah,” scoffed Violet. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. It’s so un–Hope-like.”
Her devilish grin pulled a smile to Hope’s lips. “‘Un–Hope-like’? Well, maybe it’s time for a little bit of that, don’t you think?”
“Hells yes!” was Violet’s resounding response.
Hope rolled her eyes. The roar of a V-8 engine outside drew her attention, and Violet laughed dryly. “There’s your knight now.”
Hope practically ran to the door, flinging it open to find a road-trip-ready, breath-stealing Reed jogging up the front steps.
“Hey,” he said. He held open his arms, and she was drawn into them like a magnet.
“Hey,” she said happily.
“Ready to go?”
She pulled back and gestured toward her stuff: her large suitcase and a smaller toiletry bag containing her bathroom supplies and makeup.
“That’s it?”
She stared at her bag, and then back at Reed with disbelief in her eyes. “Isn’t that enough?”
He nodded, laughing. “I lived with Aston for eighteen years. I tend to expect all women to be as high maintenance as she is. For a trip like this? She would have had three bags the size of your case and at least two for makeup.”
Hope could only imagine what packing for a three-day trip would look like for Aston. She shuddered at the thought.
“What’s up, Violet?” asked Reed. He walked over to the thirteen-year-old and held out his fist. She bumped it, and they made their fingers splay out in a faux explosion.
“Well, you probably are, judging from your reaction at the sight of my sister,” answered Violet with casual grace.
“Vi!” exclaimed Hope. But Reed was doubled over in laughter. When he recovered, he shook his head at Violet.
“You’re a dangerous one,” he said with a wink. “You know way too much.”
Violet sighed. “That’s what they tell me. That’s why they keep shoving my ass into these gifted classes at school. I keep telling them my gifts have nothing to do with academics, but they won’t listen.”
“Okay, Mouth,” said Hope loudly. She stepped over to Violet and squeezed the girl to her in a big hug. “Love you. Paint me something pretty. Call me every three hours.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “That’s not happening, Hope.”
“I know.”
Hope climbed into the truck while Reed loaded her luggage under the cover in the back, and then they were on the road.
She glanced over at him as he drove. He was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. Was he regretting his decision to bring her along? She’d never seen him so tense during any of their time together.
“Regrets?”
He glanced her way, jumping a little at the word. “What?”
“You’re looking like you ate something that didn’t agree with you. We’re still in Charleston. We can turn back to my house if you want.”
Now the wrinkles between his eyebrows creased together. “Why wo
uld I want that, Hope?”
She sighed. “Why wouldn’t you? I’m not an idiot, Reed. You’re a musician, right? I know what musicians do on the road. And I’ll definitely cramp your style. Plus, we haven’t known each other but a couple of months. Too soon for a trip together, maybe? I totally get it.”
She hadn’t taken a breath during her spiel, so she sat back against the seat, trying to force the air to enter and exit her lungs properly. And trying to calm her pounding heart, which was threatening to shatter itself into pieces when he gratefully turned the truck around.
And the truck slowed, pulling over onto the shoulder and rolling to a stop. Hope closed her eyes.
“Look at me, Hope,” Reed’s voice ordered gently but firmly.
She opened her eyes and looked over at him. He was facing her completely and lifted the console between them to reach out and grasp both of her hands in one of his. A tremor reverberated through her mind and her chest as he squeezed them.
“Listen,” he said, melting into her gaze. “I asked you to come with me because I couldn’t imagine spending three days in a state different from the one you were in. That hasn’t changed. I’m thanking my stars you agreed to come with me. I’m just sitting over here wondering why you did. We aren’t…we’re not…damn. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want you with me. I’m just nervous as hell about fucking it up. I do that a lot, you know. Fuck things up. Just ask my dad.”
She freed one of her hands to reach out to his face. He was warm, and his breathing was coming fast and heavy. His cheeks flushed as he looked at her, and she could see clearly that he was wide open to her, a state that he wasn’t used to owning. And her heart slowed in her chest at the realization that he was just as scared about all of this as she was.
“I’m here because I want to be,” she said. “And I didn’t want to let you go without me. I would have missed you, Reed.”
He leaned forward, so slowly she thought his muscles must have been aching with the effort, and she thought that he was finally going to kiss her again. She leaned forward slightly in anticipation, and her face grew warm at his nearness. He grazed his lips softly, painfully soft, against her chin and pulled back. It had only been a second, but she felt how warm and moist those lips were and she wasn’t at all happy to see them withdraw back to their own space.
He started the truck and pulled back onto the road. This time, one hand was relaxed on the wheel and one was loosely gripping hers. His face was visibly more relaxed, but now she was the one on the edge of a cliff.
She’d slowed down their physical progression with just a few words, and he was taking it to heart. No matter what happened, Reed wasn’t going to make a move until she told him to.
Shit. Damn morals are biting me in the ass.
They spent the drive together full of restless energy, talking about anything and everything. The four hours were filled with stories of Reed’s childhood and how he and Aston were total opposites in almost every way except for how fiercely they loved each other. She told him about how she felt about Violet, and how she had tried her best to protect her from their mother’s bad decisions over the years. She left out the parts where she would hustle the little girl to her room, passing men strung out from cocaine or heroin on their threadbare couch, and shielded her from many a beating given by a stepfather or angry, drunk boyfriend of Wendy’s. She stepped in front of her sister more than once to field a blow to the face or body, and Wendy would scream at them to just get the hell out of the room.
It was glaringly different from the way Reed had obviously been raised, but when he grazed across the story of his parents’ marriage, she could hear the edge of sadness in his voice. She didn’t really understand what had happened, but it had hurt Reed. Maybe not physically, the way she had been hurt, but deeply inside of his heart and his soul. It had shaped him, had formed him into the man he was today and clearly affected the way he went about relationships, or didn’t.
“So,” she asked at one point. “When was your last serious relationship?”
He looked chagrined. “I’ve never had one.”
She nodded thoughtfully, and he looked at her in surprise. “What, no shock? No grilling? Nothing?”
She shook her head, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Hope? When was your last serious relationship?”
She just stared at him, and he blew out a breath. “Whew. We’re quite the fucked-up pair, aren’t we?”
All she could do was nod.
When they arrived in Atlanta, Hope stared out her window in awe at the hugeness of the bustling city. Charleston was no small town, but it had nothing on the big-city vibe that downtown Atlanta offered. As they drove down Peachtree Street, tall buildings surrounded her; they passed large hotel chains and worldwide restaurant brands that she’d only seen on television. Reed caught her hungry intake of everything around her and squeezed her hand.
“You ever been here before?”
She shook her head. “Truth?”
He nodded solemnly. “Truth.”
“I’ve never been out of Charleston. Well, except to go to Nelson Island with you.”
He nodded casually, the tight way he held his jaw and the way he compulsively squeezed her hand in his letting her know he was floored by her revelation. “Glad your first time was with me.”
She smiled. “Me, too.”
He pulled into the garage at the Four Seasons, and the massive size of the glimmering, shining building intimidated her to no end. She held his hand as they walked into the glittering lobby and up to the check-in desk. He pulled out his credit card and addressed the attendant behind the counter.
“Reed Hopewell.”
The young woman with elegant blond hair piled onto her head smiled brightly at Reed, ignoring Hope completely. “Of course, Mr. Hopewell. Mr. Castille has booked your suite and it’s all ready for you. Shall I send someone to your car for the luggage?”
“Nah, I can bring it in,” said Reed. He looked at Hope and raised a dark eyebrow. “Should I get you your own room?”
The woman behind the counter finally glanced at Hope, a hopeful lift in her expression.
Hope shook her head. “I think we can share, don’t you?”
She hated the idea that he even needed to ask if she wanted a separate room. She wondered if the day would come where she and Reed would automatically know that they’d share the same hotel room. God, she hoped so.
Reed’s gorgeous lips curved into a contented smile, and he nodded. He placed his credit card back in his wallet, and they received their room key cards from the disappointed employee.
When Reed used his key card to open the door to their suite on the thirtieth floor, Hope nearly lost her footing. It was the most beautiful block of space she’d ever entered, and she lived in Frank’s mansion. The room was designed to be an urban getaway, and the clean, modern lines and stark color contrasts in the decor stood out as a bold reprieve from the traditional southern look she was used to back home.
“This is amazing,” she said, spinning around in a slow circle so she could see everything. There was a spectacular king-size bed waiting in the center of the room, dressed in a thick, white comforter and sprinkled with red throw pillows. The white marble floors sparkled brightly against the gleam coming from the expanse of city lights pouring in through the wall of windows across the room. She turned a corner into the bathroom, and she knew she would lose herself in that luxurious space at some point during this trip. Especially the huge, claw-foot tub standing proudly in the center of the space.
Reed went to retrieve their luggage, and while he was gone she walked over to the windows and stared out at the busy city. Even after the sun went down, it seemed as though no one bothered to slow down or go indoors.
She loved it. It was new and exciting.
And it wasn’t Charleston.
It wasn’t where Wendy and Frank were bearing down on her to give more and more to the family business. More than she ever wa
nted to give.
Before she’d left, she had a conversation with Frank and Wendy about how she wouldn’t be working the upcoming weekend.
“How do you plan to reimburse me for the money I’m going to lose by having my best girl not at work?” Frank had asked calmly.
“I don’t know,” said Hope angrily. “I can’t work every freaking weekend, Frank. I need a break sometimes.”
“Oh, do you?” asked Frank. “Well, if you’re going to be taking breaks, I’m going to need you to step up what you are actually doing at work. Some of the clients have been offering monumental amounts of money for an entire date night package with you. I’ve been turning them down at your direction, but I think that needs to change. Especially if you want to keep your job and continue having weekends off time and time again.”
“Time and time again?” asked Hope, disgusted. “This is the first weekend I’m asking. And I’ve told you a million times that I’m not a hooker. Ask another girl.”
“Oh, I have asked other girls. They’re actually thrilled about the shitloads of money the extra work brings in. You’re the only one who acts like she’s too good for the color green. Don’t you love your sister enough to make your mother and me happy?”
Hope bristled at the mention of Violet. “Of course I love her. Why do you think I’m working so hard?”
“You’re not working hard enough.” His voice was final, as if he were stating a fact.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to make this really simple for you, Hope. If you want to keep working for me, you need to keep my clients happy. Keeping my clients happy keeps me happy. And keeping me happy keeps your mother happy.”
A deep feeling of foreboding enveloped her. She felt like she was being backed into a corner. How could she get Violet out of this house? If she went to the police, would they believe her over Frank? He’d use whatever connections he had to make sure that never happened, dammit!