“Why? Because of me?”
“Because I’m busy and not interested.”
Reid sighed. “Look, Ollie, I don’t want to interfere in your life any more than I already have—”
“You’re not interfering—”
“—so if you want to talk or…whatever, then you can. It won’t hurt my feelings—”
“Reid,” I said, and waited until he looked at me. “I’m not going anywhere. I know you think I want to be anywhere but here with you, but I can assure you that’s not the case.”
Reid’s eyes widened slightly.
“Stop trying to get rid of me or palm me off on someone else,” I continued. “I know you’re nervous about how badly I’m gonna kick your ass in this game, but I believe in comebacks. Don’t you?”
His mouth quirked up on one side, and when a plate full of fries was pushed his way, he picked one up and popped it into his mouth. “Guess I can’t let you off that easily,” he said, munching away.
“Damn right. I need someone to give me a run for my money.”
The teen handed me a plate of nachos and my change, and as we headed back to our now-empty lane, Reid said, “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Batshit bonkers,” I agreed, and then figured I’d pass along some Alice in Wonderland advice. “But all the best people are.”
Chapter Eight
AFTER SHOWING NO mercy and handily kicking Reid’s ass not just once, but twice, we piled back into my car and I turned the heat on blast. The temperature had drastically dropped while we’d been inside, and we sat there shivering together and watching the lightest of snow flurries hit the windshield until the hot air kicked in.
Reid’s teeth chattered as we put our hands in front of the vents to warm them up. “I don’t think I’m cut out for cold weather. We should be on a beach somewhere.”
“I hear Miami’s nice this time of year.” I went to put the car in reverse, but Reid’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Do you mind if we don’t go back yet?”
“Of course. Is everything okay?”
He nodded and let go of my arm, and I wished he didn’t have to do that. I was hyperaware of every single time he touched me, and yet I knew there was nothing behind his gestures, nothing more than a natural friendliness from being comfortable with someone. That he was comfortable with me should’ve been enough. Let it be enough, Ollie, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s starting to feel a little suffocating at my parents’ house, is all,” he said, leaning back in his seat, looking out at the snow hitting the window. “They watch me like I’m gonna break any minute.”
“I’m sure they just worry about you. It’s been an adjustment on their part, too.”
“I get that.” He ran a hand over the stubble coating his cheeks, drawing my attention to his strong jaw. The Reid before the accident had seemed meticulous about keeping his face cleanly shaven, but I had to admit, the bit of growth he kept now looked hot. “I can see it in their eyes. The waiting. Wondering if I’ll ever get back to myself.”
I stayed silent and listened, because what could I say? There was no way to know whether he’d ever be able to fill in the holes in his memory, and I wasn’t about to give him any false hope. Then again, sometimes it seemed like he’d rather not know who he’d once been, which made me even more curious about the man sitting beside me.
“I’m thinking maybe I should go to my place,” he said. “To live, I mean.”
“You could. If you feel you’re ready for that.”
“Hey,” he said, shifting in his seat to face me, his eyes alight. “You wanna see it?”
“Your place?”
“Yeah.”
Twist my arm, why don’t you. “Sure. Where to?” I said, putting the car in reverse and backing out.
“Oh.” Reid lifted his hips to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, and then he pulled out a piece of paper. “Sixty-two Lyons Drive in the Garden Lakes complex. Apartment 2A.”
“Smart of you to write it down.”
“It’s on my license too, but I wasn’t sure I’d remember the exact directions,” he admitted, as I steered us out onto the main road. “I’ve only been there a couple of times.”
My job meant I knew the town like the back of my hand, and I’d had to answer calls in Garden Lakes before, so I knew exactly where we were headed, but when Reid began to recall the directions—correctly, I was surprised to hear—I was content to let him take the lead. After a few minutes, he pointed to a neighborhood entrance up ahead and told me to take a left, and I flipped on my blinker, pulled into the turning lane, and waited for the steady stream of cars to pass.
Garden Lakes was the upper tier of apartment living in Floyd Hills, gated and with several private lakes, hence the name. After we dialed in the code at the gate—also noted on the paper—I drove around the complex until Reid told me to stop.
“That’s it,” he said, nodding up at the second-floor balcony of a well-maintained building, blue with wood accents and white trim that reminded me of a cozy cabin I’d stayed in during a winter trip to Pigeon Forge one year.
“This is nice,” I said, cutting the engine.
“I thought so too.”
“Why do I hear a ‘but’ in there?”
Reid smiled, his face half in the shadows from where I’d parked under a street lamp. “You’ll see.”
I followed Reid up the stairs and took the opportunity to enjoy the view of his ass while no one else was around. The bowling alley had been a test of self-restraint with all the bending over he did, and the athletic pants he wore hugged his behind in a way that made me want to reach out and touch him.
As we reached the second floor, Reid produced a key from his wallet, and as he turned toward me, I forced my eyes up.
“This is it,” he said, and then went about unlocking the deadbolt. “Home sweet home.” He pushed open the door and waved me through first, and as I went inside, the sleeve of my jacket brushed against him, and the warmth of his breath stroked my neck, sending goosebumps in its wake.
It was dark as I entered, and when Reid followed me in, he flipped a light switch, throwing the front-facing corner apartment into full view.
Reid ran his hand over his head, getting rid of the snow flurries that had landed in his hair and on his jacket. “See what I mean? The decorating is… I don’t even have words.”
I thought he meant the lack of decorating. Even though the apartment was large, open, and fully furnished, and there were paintings that hung on the walls, it was all so…bland.
“Well,” I said, strolling through the kitchen and into the living room. “You can always take it all down and get rid of it. Start from scratch.” I moved one of the heavy beige drapes aside, revealing a nighttime glimpse of the lake below. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Um…” Reid looked around at the beige walls, beige carpet, and beige furniture. “Not beige?”
I chuckled and let go of the curtain. “‘Not beige’ should be easy enough to find.”
“I guess, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Tell you what. I’ve got a friend at work who likes to do this kind of thing on the side. I can see if she can come help you flesh out some ideas.”
“Really?”
Shrugging, I said, “If you want to. No pressure or promises, but I can talk to her.”
“That’d be great,” he said, his shoulders sagging. “I think I’d go crazy if I had to live here as it stands now.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“I’m not. I swear.”
“You’ve got a great place, like the kind you’d actually want to go home to.”
“Well, you can come over anytime you want.” Reid raised his eyebrows, and I said, “I mean, I’ve got an extra room if you needed to…get away…or something.”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “You shouldn’t go around making an offe
r like that to strangers. They may take you up on it.”
Trust me when I say I wouldn’t mind that at all. Really.
“I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t think I have anything— Wait. Maybe I do.” He took off for the kitchen and began opening cabinets. “I’ve never actually checked before, but twenty-seven-year-olds usually have a liquor stash, right?”
Oh God, I forgot. He probably never remembered having a drink before in his life, did he?
“Ta-da.” Reid held up a half-empty bottle of Crown Royal. “Found something.”
“Uh, you sure you wanna start with that?”
“Why not?”
“No reason.”
He found a couple of glasses in one of the cupboards and set them on the kitchen bar beside me, then proceeded to pour a healthy amount into both.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, laughing. “Maybe try it out first. See what you think.”
Reid lifted the bottle again, and the remaining amber liquid swished inside. “I’m gonna assume I’m a fan.”
I had to press my lips together to keep from grinning. This is gonna be interesting…
“To your first drink,” I said, touching my glass to his. “Round two.”
“Round two,” he agreed. Then he brought the glass to his mouth, and just before he took a sip, he frowned and brought the glass to his nose. Then he jerked back and his eyes began to water. “Oh shit. That smells horrible.”
“It smells like whisky.”
“Whisky smells horrible. Hell. I bet it tastes awful too.” When he took the tiniest sip and his face scrunched up, I laughed. “Ugh. I don’t think I like that.”
“You might like it with Coke.”
Reid sniffed the glass again and made a face, but took another small draw of the liquid.
With a tsk, I said, “First you dis coffee and now whisky. Might have to revoke your adult card.”
“Surely I like beer. I think I’ve had that and liked it. Maybe.”
“At least I won’t have to worry about you drinking yourself to death when you move back in.” I went to take his glass and pour it back in the bottle, but Reid pulled it back.
“No, I’m gonna do it, and so are you.” Then he pointed at me. “Drink.”
My eyes widened as he forced back a big swallow, and I tried not to laugh as he shuddered.
“You really don’t have to drink that.”
“Yes, I do. I don’t need my adult card revoked.” Reid winked at me as he sipped again.
“All right, that’s enough, you lush,” I said, chuckling as I managed to take the glass from him before he finished it off. “If I take you back drunk and puking, you may never be allowed out of the house again.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be some sort of rite of passage?”
“Not when you’re twenty-seven, it’s not.”
He waved me off as he wandered into the living room and flopped onto the stiff-looking couch. “I think you were right. Maybe with Coke next time.”
I left my own glass on the counter, needing to keep a clear head around him, and chose the recliner closest to Reid.
“This is nice. I feel warm. Like the alcohol just spreads through your body, you know?” Scooting down the couch until he was lying flat on his back, he rubbed his hands over his stomach. “Like a blanket for your insides.”
Oh God. He was feeling it already.
“If whisky was a song,” he continued, “I think it would start with a punch and then simmer into something slow and easy.” His fingers danced in the air as if he were playing the song, and it was then that I noticed what was glaringly missing in the room.
“Where’s your piano?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Why not? Isn’t that kinda important for you to have?”
“Something about noise complaints.”
Perks of living in an apartment right there. “Gotcha. So you practice at your parents’ house?”
“Nah, they got rid of theirs years ago.”
“Huh.”
Reid stopped “playing” and tilted his head back to look at me. “What?”
“Well, where do you play?”
“I… I don’t know. I guess I haven’t.”
Since the accident or even before, I didn’t know, but what kind of shit was this? He’d stopped following his dream for a stable life and now he didn’t even have an instrument to play in his downtime? It seemed strange that he wouldn’t have access to what was obviously his passion, unless he stole a few moments at the school.
“I bet you could always go to that music store on Broad. The woman there seemed so excited to have you there, she’d probably pay you to play.”
“Hey,” he said, sitting up. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“You should do it.”
“I guess that means I’ll have to suck it up and ask for her name, though.”
“I’m telling you, use the brain injury excuse. You’ve got the perfect get-out-of-jail-free card right there.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He sank back down as I traced the swirling pattern of the chair arm. “Would you come see me if I played?”
“If you paid me.”
He shot back up. “Seriously?”
“No,” I said, laughing at his shocked expression.
“Oh. Good.” He moved onto his stomach, stretching out on the couch like a cat, and rested his chin on his arms. “I’d like it if you came.”
I’d like it if you came, too—not that we’re thinking about anything even remotely the same. “What would you play?”
“Hmm. Maybe Air on the G String by Bach…something from Chopin’s nocturnes, maybe nine. Then I’d throw in a little Beethoven, maybe Moonlight Sonata, so you wouldn’t get bored.”
I let out an inelegant snort. “I’d never get bored.”
“You might.”
“I wouldn’t. Trust me.”
Reid’s brow furrowed. “I do trust you. Which should be weird, right? But it’s like…I’m safe with you.”
There was no way he couldn’t hear the rapid staccato my heart made then, and I could only try to calm that shit down by taking in a breath before saying, “You are.”
“I believe you.”
A long moment passed where he just looked up at me, those big brown eyes open and searching mine, like he was trying to come up with an answer to a question only he could hear.
“I don’t know why I’m saying these things,” he whispered, finally breaking the silence. “They’re supposed to stay in my head.” He reiterated his statement by tapping on his temple and letting out a self-deprecating chuckle.
Christ, he was too fucking cute for his own good.
“S’okay. I like hearing your thoughts.”
“Yeah? Well… Tell me something.”
“Okay.”
He toyed with his bottom lip between his teeth again, as if gearing up to ask a loaded question and he wasn’t sure what my response would be. “Do you ever get lonely? In that big house of yours, all by yourself?”
“Big house?” I laughed. “Hardly.”
“You’re deflecting the question.”
“Such a serious question. You feeling the Crown?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You still haven’t answered.”
“Do I get lonely?” Pushing off the floor with my feet, I rocked the chair back and forth as I thought over his query. Did I get lonely? Usually I was too busy to think about it, and I had great friendships at work and outside it. But did I get lonely? Sure, I did, especially when Reid walked out my door. “I guess I do.”
“When?”
“At night, mostly. Sometimes I can’t sleep, and…” I sighed before admitting, “It’d be nice to have someone…” It’d be nice to have you there.
Reid laid his cheek on his arms. “I can’t sleep either. I wake up from nightmares. Ones I remember and others I don’t.”
It was an honest confession, and one that hit me hard. He always seemed so calm with what had happ
ened to him, that it was hard to reconcile the easygoing man with the one who’d gone through such a terrible ordeal. But of course he was terrified, even if his fears only manifested in his dreams. Reid had never showed himself fully to me that way, but then again, why would he lay all his worries and sadness at the feet of someone he was getting to know? I was the person helping him to, for lack of a better word, forget.
“Can I call you?” he said. “If we’re both awake in the middle of the night? Maybe we can help each other sleep.”
There was such a sweet innocence in his words that I wanted to lean over, capture his face between my hands, and meld our lips together until the outside world disappeared. With him, maybe I wouldn’t be so restless, and maybe with me, he wouldn’t be so frightened.
“Anytime,” I said. “You can call me, day or night, anytime.”
He smiled at me then, seemingly satisfied with that answer. But then his forehead wrinkled, and he said, “It’s a shame, you know.”
“What is?”
“I know you said you’re busy and don’t have time for a relationship, but…you’re this really great guy, and it seems like a shame that you don’t have anyone to share yourself with.”
My heart constricted, and I had to look down at my lap so he didn’t see the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.
But my shuddering breath must’ve given me away, because he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. But I just think…you deserve to be happy. And I get the feeling maybe you’re not?”
God, where was that coming from? Could he see right through me?
“Thank you for saying…all of that. But I’m okay.” I just didn’t realize how empty my life was until you filled it.
“You can always call me,” he said, just as he let out a big yawn. His eyes began to shutter, but I knew I needed to get him home before he was too far gone to wake up. I let him rest a bit while I poured the liquor back into the bottle of Crown, stowed it away, and then rinsed out the glasses. He wasn’t easy to rouse, and once he was up, he was content to walk down the stairs half-asleep, and I had to keep a hold on him so he didn’t fall over. Apparently, once Reid was out, he was out.
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