by K. L. Kreig
“So,” he responds with a slight laugh that makes me smile.
This is one of the things I loved most about Reid. He’d make anyone feel comfortable in an uncomfortable situation. It’s a natural gift.
“Do you want to sit in here or go in the living room?”
He looks into the other space then back to me, his face darkening with memories. “I think here is probably best.”
“Right,” I breathe. “Sorry.”
“You feeling better?”
It takes me a minute to put together his question, but I finally do. After Shaw cornered me in the bathroom and fucked me nearly blind, he snuck me out the back way. Once he had me in the car, he ran back inside to tell his dad I wasn’t feeling well. I felt like the cowardly lion straight out of the Wizard of Oz, but I just couldn’t make myself go back into that room with him. Not only did I not want to face Reid for the obvious reasons, the light pink flush on my skin was a dead giveaway. I could not do that to him. He doesn’t deserve that thrown in his face.
“Ah, yeah. The wine didn’t sit well.”
His lips purse taking in my fake answer. He doesn’t believe it for a minute. The walls awkwardly close in as the tension thickens. I start to pick at the label on my bottle, wondering how you’re supposed to apologize for obliterating someone. I’m sorry just doesn’t seem good enough, but what else is there?
“Reid, I’m sor—”
“Do you love him?”
My eyes pop up, hooking his. “What? Who?”
“Shaw Mercer. Do you love him?”
Crap. Can he see it written all over my face? “Reid…”
“Don’t, Willow. Just answer the question. Do you love him?”
“We just started dating. I barely know him.” All true, but I purposely left out the falling part. I’m falling, all right, regardless of the fact I barely know the man. I’m on the downside of falling, really, sliding down the damn hill at warp speed with a grove of trees to stop me when I hit the bottom. It will hurt like a bitch at some point.
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“What’s what you’re worried about?” I ask, trying to unravel his riddle.
His face hardens. “That you don’t know him.”
I bristle, knowing he’s absolutely right. But I feel he’s alluding to something more than just the fact that he thinks this relationship is a farce. I know it is, but I think right now he only suspects, and I need to convince him it’s not. That it’s all just coincidental timing. “And you do? Is there something I should know?”
He diverts his eyes briefly before pinning me with a gaze that now flames with…what? Protection? Concern? Jealousy?
No. Why the hell would Reid be jealous?
This conversation is not going at all as I’d anticipated. I thought we’d rehash the past. I thought there would be tears and pleading on my part, maybe some yelling on his. I’d hoped for closure, for some shaky truce, although I didn’t actually expect it.
But I suppose bashing Shaw makes sense. He thinks he’s using me and that I don’t know it.
“How did you meet?” he asks pointedly, crossing his arms.
“It was an accident,” I reply smoothly.
“An accident?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe me, but so what? This part of the story I can tell without one ounce of guilt.
“Yes. He rear-ended me at a stoplight a few weeks ago.” When his eyes widen, I add, “Like I said, it was an accident. Did you see my bumper when you drove up?”
He nods, his jaw clamping. “And you two…what? Just clicked while exchanging driver’s licenses?”
I almost want to laugh. Click wouldn’t be the verb I’d use. Clash, maybe.
“Yes. He called me a few days later for a date.” Also true. Sort of.
“And why isn’t your car fixed yet?”
“I’ve been busy.” I huff. Actually, I finally took it in yesterday for an estimate. Over $2,500 for a hunk of pressed plastic, along with an estimated three days in the shop. Highway robbery at its finest. I walked out with my middle finger in the air and some not-so-ladylike words on my lips. “What difference does it make if my car is fixed yet or not, Reid? Ask me what you really want to know.”
Taking a sip of his vanilla bean coffee, he watches me over the rim of his cup. I see the wheels spinning behind his jeweled eyes. He’s carefully selecting the words he thinks will have the least potential to tick me off. He was a quick learner when we were together.
“I just think it’s pretty convenient timing, that’s all.”
I draw on all my skills to fake genuine confusion. We’ve managed to convince everyone else we’re a real couple so far, and while convincing Reid may be a bit more of a stretch, I’ve no doubt I can do it.
“Convenient timing? I have no idea what that means, Reid. It was pretty inconvenient to be rear-ended, actually, but it led to meeting Shaw, so I can’t say I’m all that upset about it.”
The pause is excruciating until he says, “It means…nothing.” His breath is long. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Okay.”
“Will you tell me one more thing and then I’ll let it go? I promise.”
I let a corner of my mouth turn. “Okay, shoot.”
“Does he treat you well?”
Oh, Reid.
The fact that he even asked that question tells me everything I need to know. Although I do not deserve it, he still cares about me. It makes me strangely ache.
“Yes, he does,” I answer softly. Also truthfully.
His mouth thins out, and he bobs his head up and down a few times before silence reigns once again. It’s stilted and awkward and I hate it. We used to be able to sit for hours in comfortable quiet, neither of us feeling the need to fill it with pointless chatter.
“I don’t want him to hurt you, Willow. I’m worried he will.”
Me, too.
“I thought we were done talking about him,” I reply with no heat.
“I guess I’m not.” He lifts and drops a shoulder, his tone unapologetic.
That earns him a laugh, which makes him smile.
His eyes soften. “I’ve missed you, Willow. So fucking much.” His sincerity floors me, the emotion I feel from him bowling me over. It would have knocked me on my ass if I weren’t already sitting.
He missed me.
Missed me.
After what I did to him, he missed me. You could never have convinced me the man I ruined would say those words to me. Never. But then again, Reid has always been in a league of his own.
I swallow hard, my chest aching something fierce.
“I’ve missed you, too, Reid.” There’s so much I want to ask him, so much I want to say, confess, apologize for. “Can I ask you something without you thinking I’m being selfish?”
A smile tugs his full lips. “You never asked permission to talk before, why start now?”
I laugh briefly. “Yeah, well…it’s one of the things you loved about me.”
The tone of the whole room shifts at my stupid word choice.
Fuck.
I’m an idiot.
Reid looks down at the cup he’s now shifting back and forth between his hands, lost in the sloshing liquid. The thread we’ve been balancing on since the second he rang the doorbell seems to have unraveled. “I loved a lot of things about you, Willow Blackwell,” he says on a pained breath, but then he raises his eyes to mine, and the love I see madly swirling stops my breath cold. “Still do.”
Holy shit.
He still loves me? After everything I did to him, to us? How is that possible?
“Reid…” Tears blur my vision as I let my gaze drop, unable to watch him watch my reaction. I can’t let him see what I’m feeling because I don’t even know myself. “How could you? After what I did? How could you possibly feel anything toward me besides contempt? I’m sorry,” I tell him on a choking sob, water now splashing in tiny puddles onto the pressed wood table I’m
staring at. “I’m so very sorry, Reid. I’m sorry.” I keep muttering the same damn thing under my breath like a scratched record that someone won’t take the needle from.
I hear the chair scrape, and I think maybe he’s headed toward the door, but when his hands wrap around my biceps and he pulls me up and into his arms, I cry uncontrollably into his chest, soaking his shirt.
Then I’m in his arms and he’s carrying me to the couch. Sitting me down first, he takes a seat beside me, hands me a few tissues, and throws an arm around my shoulder, tucking me close.
He holds me tight and steady. He strokes my hair and whispers in my ear, gifting me forgiveness I most certainly did not earn and will have a hard time accepting.
I lose track of time, but pretty soon I’m spent, my entire body a bowl of liquid, unset Jell-O. I sag against him, enjoying the press of his body against mine again a little too much.
When I’m finally quiet, he slides a finger under my chin and tilts my head toward his. His eyes search my face. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I suddenly wish I could hide. “You’re a mess.”
My laugh comes out as a sob. “You know I always ugly cry.”
“Oh, Willow.” He sighs heavily. “Even with a blotchy face, red eyes, and a runny nose, you are still the most breathtaking woman I have ever met.”
“Reid,” I push breathlessly when I can finally get my vocal cords to vibrate. How am I supposed to respond?
“I didn’t realize how big of a hole I’d been walking around with for the past four years until I saw you again.”
“I—”
“No, please, let me finish in case I don’t get another chance.”
I nod, and he drops his finger. I still hold his eyes, desperately wanting to be anywhere else but here. I’m nowhere near ready for this.
“You gutted me.”
The jagged shards of agony in his voice stab me a million times over. It hurts so fucking much. The water that stopped flows again.
“I—”
“Shhh,” he says gently. He cups my cheek, placing a thumb on my lips, but doesn’t remove it when I stop. Instead, he focuses on that one spot where he’s now hypnotically rubbing it back and forth. The friction heats my body more than it should. “I died a thousand deaths when I woke up and you were gone. But after I got over the hurt and the anger, I understood.”
His eyes track back to mine. The reverence in them makes me feel weak all over.
“I’m not even sure I do,” I tell him quietly. And now that I’m looking into his forlorn eyes for the first time in four years, I mean it.
“You were grieving.”
“I should have stayed.” I mean that, too.
He looks sad. “I wish you would have.”
“I’m sorry, Reid.” My voice is scratchy. I wad up the used tissue in my hand.
“You’re forgiven.”
His gaze drops. The silver that lies below the hollow of my throat heats under his inspection. Shivers run the length of my spine when he drops my hand to lightly run a finger over it. I don’t realize how fast I’m breathing until he looks back up.
“You still wear it,” he whispers almost brokenly.
“Yes.” I saw the pain on his face when he spotted it on me the other night.
“Why?”
Because it’s the most precious and thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. Because when I wear it I feel like I carry her everywhere. “So I don’t forget.”
He strokes my cheek. “Some things are unforgettable.”
I can’t help but melt into him a little although I shouldn’t. All my pent-up emotions rush to my mouth and spill. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”
Bright eyes soften like silk. “I would have to be dead to forget you, Willow.” His voice is warm yet serious. “And even then, it would be impossible.”
He presses his forehead to mine. We both close our eyes and breathe each other in, remembering, wishing perhaps. The moment is ripe with poignancy and something else I don’t want to name.
When he hooks a finger beneath my jaw and lifts my face, I know exactly what’s coming. My lips tingle in anticipation. I loved this man once upon a time. I slept in his bed. We made plans. I was weeks away from pledging my life to his.
But I can’t. Not now. Everything is different.
“Don’t, Reid. Please.” I tug against his hold. He lets me go. I’m torn in two between wanting it to happen and knowing if I do, I will betray Shaw. Even if what we have is a farce, I’m falling in love with him, and contract or not, I wouldn’t feel right kissing another man.
“Okay,” he breathes with resignation. “Okay. I, ah, I should go.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We both shift and awkwardly make our way to the door. He opens it and stands there, staring out into the street. “I want to see you again, Willow.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Reid.” I remember how volatile Shaw acted about Reid the other night. And with my confusing feelings…
He turns to face me. “Why?”
“Because I’m dating Shaw,” I reply quietly.
“And he forbids you from having friends?” he asks angrily.
“You’re more than a friend, Reid, and we both know that.”
He smiles sadly, cutting me once more. “No. We were, as in past tense. So…yeah. I’ll call you, and fuck him. He doesn’t need to know. And even if he finds out, I don’t give two shits. I’m happy to take him on.”
Before I can respond, he’s pressing his lips to my forehead. Then he’s walking at a clipped pace to a dark red Prius. I stand on the porch, watching him back out and drive away.
I’m a wound-up steel ball of conflict. Knowing I’ll see Reid again brings me a little peace but anxiety at the same time. And guilt. A whole heap of that, too, because I know Shaw won’t like it. But on the other hand, why should I care about what he wants? We are not a true couple.
But you would be if he wanted that.
He’ll let you walk away.
Maybe he won’t. Maybe he really does want more.
I stare at the empty street, conflicted…until the sun starts to set.
My entire being hurts. My skin. My soul. My heart. That hurts a lot.
Shaw had a board meeting tonight. He insisted he come over around nine thirty when it’s over. I agreed but decide I can’t see him. I’m too wrung out, and I’m not up to any explanations about why.
I text him that I have a migraine. I take a hot bath, throw on pajamas, and head to bed early, hoping he doesn’t decide to come over anyway. That sounds like something he’d do. He takes what he wants. I’ll admit that’s one of the things I find most appealing about him.
Just when I’m dozing off, he texts back.
Shaw: Anything I can do?
Me: No. I just need sleep.
Shaw: In my bed sounds as good a place as any.
Yeah, I knew it. He’s still peeved I insisted he bring me home after the debacle at the mayor’s house when I had agreed to spend the night with him. But I was a goddamn mess. I needed time to process what in the hell having my ex-fiancé back in the picture meant for me. For us. If anything.
Me: I’m tucked in already.
His delay is a little longer this time. I start to get a little worried he’ll pound down my door any second or maybe just not respond. Then, finally…
Shaw: We have an interview with the reporter tomorrow.
Wow. That was fast.
Me: What time?
Shaw: 5:00 pm
Me: Oh. Okay.
Shaw: You sure I can’t swing by? Rub your head…or…other body parts? I heard once that sex cures all that ails.
I laugh out loud into the quiet and consider taking him up on his offer. It’s scary how much I want him here. How much this doesn’t feel like pretend anymore. In the end, though, I need some time alone to decompress and regroup. Tonight was harder than I imagined, and having him here to make me feel better feels too…addictive.
>
Me: It’s a hard offer to pass up.
Shaw: Yet here you are…passing it and its mystical powers up.
That makes me smile. So damn big my face now hurts. I settle on my back, not wanting this banter back and forth to end.
Me: I’ll let you make it up to me.
Shaw: I’ll hold you to that. Call you tomorrow. Make sure you answer.
Me: Sir, yes, sir. Nite, Drive By.
Shaw: Groan. I like that way too much. Night, my sweet little Goldilocks.
The brief exchange lifts my spirits incredibly. I end up drifting off with a grin on my face but mass confusion still twisting my heart.
28
“Listen to this shit,” Noah announces, waltzing into my office without even a courtesy knock. Where the fuck is Dane?
“Rude, much? I could have been in the middle of an important call.”
Instead I’m standing in front of the window, lost in the middle of my own fucking head, which seems a bad place to be right now. I have an investor meeting in three days I’m nowhere near prepared for, next year’s corporate fiscal budget to approve, an agenda to review for our two-day executive planning session next week, plus a dozen calls to return. I can’t afford to waste a single second of my overpacked day daydreaming about a blond, blue-eyed slip of a woman who won’t leave the space between my ears. Yet, that’s all I’ve done.
“But you’re not, so stop your whiny bitching.”
“I want to fucking throttle you sometimes, you know that?”
“Ah, I feel the love, brother.”
I finally spin on my heels to see Noah working furiously on his phone. “Well, what’s so goddamn important you had to barge in here unannounced?”
Yes, I’m in a pissy mood, and I’m taking it out on my friend, but he lets it roll off him like he’s been double dipped in waterproofing. It takes a lot to rile Noah. For that, I’m glad because my temper can be on a short fuse, especially these days.
I’m not sure why I’m on edge, but I suspect it has everything to do with the jealousy still creeping like lava through my blood. On the way back to Willow’s place the other night, she convinced me—begged me—to let her talk to that bastard, Reid Mergen.