I got up from my chair and finished bussing the table, but for the rest of the night I couldn’t get the conversation with Reece out of my head.
It was Sunday and I had the day off. I tried not to work Sundays because they were slow and I wanted something resembling a weekend. Oh, who was I kidding? There was no such thing as a weekend to a server; we took what we could when it came to days off. However, it was still a nice day in Boise and I wanted to take advantage of it. Jo was working and Bethany was spending the weekend with her new boyfriend, so I was riding solo this weekend. Or every weekend. Whatever.
My apartment was pretty crappy, but it was in one of my favorite parts of the city, the North End. It was close to downtown, but still had a young, hip vibe with its unique houses that all held a homey charm.
I grabbed my bike from the small storage area behind my apartment and decided to take advantage of the beautiful fall day. After throwing on jeans, my purple fleece jacket, and a rainbow colored beanie, I headed out the door. I planned on riding down to the co-op to stock up on items I could only get there. Once on my bike, I leisurely pedaled down the road, taking my time and looking at all the different houses that resided in the area.
Alex Clare was blasting through my headphones. I was trying to jam and ride at the same time, taking in all the cool houses that lined the streets. One was a bungalow type of house painted a deep green with almost black trim. It had a porch with one of those porch swings, and was a cute, older house in good shape. What caught my attention, though, was not only the house, but the tall shadow standing on the porch. The person stepped to the right and the sun lit up his face with that damn half-smile. It was Reece. I glanced back and didn’t see the speed bump in the road. I shrieked as I hit it, losing my balance and crashing onto the ground. I rolled toward the sidewalk as my bike fell on top of me. Groaning, I laid on the side of the road, but everything felt like it was in working order. I was pretty sure I hadn’t broken any bones.
My spirit.
That I had broken.
I had just crashed and burned while I stared at Reece. Fucking Reece Day was once again causing me to lose my shit.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” a husky voice asked me. The shadowed face covered the setting sun, but there was no mistaking that voice. Reece lifted my bike off me and tried to help me sit up. My beanie fell off and my braid of golden hair stuck up everywhere.
“June? Holy shit, I didn’t realize it was you with the hat on. Are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance? You hit the ground pretty hard,” Reece said with panic in his voice.
I had yet to say anything, but only groaned when I tried to stand up.
“Wait, let me help you.”
Finally I was able to push myself up and onto my feet.
“No, I’m fine. Just a little bump on my head.” I felt said bump.
Reece scrunched up his nose. “Um, that little bump on your head is actually bleeding.”
I took my hand away from my head to realize there was in fact blood on my hand. “Huh. Well, look at that.” Wow, that was poetic. Sometimes I just killed myself with my tact.
“Here, come inside and I can clean you up. I should have a first aid kit somewhere.” Reece grabbed my hand and guided me to his house. I was starting to feel the bump on my head turn into a painful knot as we walked. While my head was throbbing, my hand in Reece’s didn’t go unnoticed, the warmth of his large hand covering my small one. It was the first time he had touched me since the day I had met him and it was only because I was bleeding. Terrific.
We walked into the house; a living room on the right and an informal dining room with a wooden table to the left, the open kitchen behind it. There was a hallway in front of me, which must have led to the bedrooms. Reece plopped me down at the dining room table and headed down the hallway, only to reappear a minute later with a first aid kit. He sat in the chair next to me, and turned me to face him. As Reece reached over to the kit, I saw the strain of his muscles under his short sleeve grey shirt. He wasn’t overly defined, like someone who lived his life in a gym, but it was enough to catch my attention. I glanced down at his hands and caught black script on his right arm, but in my state I wasn’t able to see exactly what it was. Well, wasn’t that a pleasant surprise. With the shirts we wore at work, I had missed the ink on his arm. I didn’t have any tattoos, but I always enjoyed one or two on a guy. It gave them an edge.
What? Yeah, I looked, but I never touched. Girls are stupid if they think because they are in a committed relationship they can’t take in the scenery. Of course now I could touch if I wanted to, and that was the problem. I knew I shouldn’t, but there was a part of me that wanted to. I directed my attention back to Reece and his doctoring skills.
He opened the kit and grabbed some goop, which I figured was a type of disinfectant gel that was going to sting like a bitch. He silently put a bit of it on a towel and applied it to my still bleeding head.
Shit! Yep, burns like a bitch.
After he took away the towel, he put a butterfly bandage tenderly on my head.
“This should do. I don’t think you will have to get stitches, but if it starts to look worse I would get it checked out,” Reece said as he returned the torture devices to the first aid kit.
“Thanks.” There was approximately fifty-five seconds of awkward silence. I know. I counted it. And as I counted it, I looked around the house. Looking at Reece right now seemed to be too much. I was thoroughly embarrassed and avoiding his deepening gaze. I could feel the throb from the bump on my head, but the pain almost had the inverse reaction of focusing everything.
As I glanced around, I noticed Reece’s house was downright charming. It seemed pretty lived in for someone who had only been here for a few months, but I also started to see some of the furniture was older in style and didn’t really seem like something a young twentyish guy would have in his place. I started to turn back to Reece, but saw in the corner of the living room a large collection of records and a pristine looking record player. As I was staring off, I felt Reece try to put a piece of my hair behind my ear. I tensed and whipped my glance back to him, only to find him holding a twig in his hand. His touch felt more intimate than the one earlier.
“Sorry, I was trying to get this out of your hair,” he replied to my shocked look. “What were you looking at?” he asked, directing my attention from his tender touch. I took in his soft features for only a split second before following his gaze back to the record player.
“That record collection over there, it’s pretty intense. Have you been collecting for long?”
While my parents were pretty uptight growing up, I swear the only time I saw them let their hair down was when they would put on some Motown group or the Beatles throughout the house. Music was an important role in my childhood. These ended up being some of my favorite memories growing up, music flowing through the house during summer barbecues and family holidays. I guess it was something that had stuck with me through adulthood.
Reece glanced over to the corner I was looking at. “Well, it technically isn’t mine, it was recently acquired. Actually, a lot of this stuff in the house was.” His gaze swept over the room and for a second his eyes showed unfamiliarity, like he was seeing this all for the first time.
“What do you mean?”
My words brought Reece’s gaze back to me, the unfamiliarity gone. “I inherited this house and everything in it back in March. It was my aunt’s house, but she passed away last January,” I could hear the small tinge of sadness in his voice.
“Is that why you are back?” Why that was the first question I thought of, I wasn’t sure. No sorry from me or sending my condolences. That was my bluntness coming out again, and it actually quickly offended most people. Luckily, Reece looked unaffected by my questions.
“I didn’t know that you knew I was from here.”
Oh shit. That’s right, we hadn’t really gone over the basics yet.
“I think I overheard you saying that
to someone,” I lied.
“That’s a lie.”
Well, hell.
Reece gave me a sweet half-smile. “Unless you overheard it from Jolene talking very loudly and probably directly toward you.”
Busted. “Yeah. Okay. Jo might have mentioned you when I got back to work.”
Reece smirked. I realized he hadn’t moved his chair away from mine and we were still pretty close to each. Time to diffuse this tension.
“I wouldn’t believe everything Jo says.” I stated, trying to take down any pre-notions Reece had about me.
Reece sat there for a few seconds as I watched the internal battle within his eyes. He sighed, put his strong hands on my knees, and leaned forward as he whispered in my ear, “I believe what I can see with my eyes, and what I see is a very interesting story.”
With that, he walked into the kitchen.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked easily, not even acknowledging the fact that he just whispered in my ear, which I thought was pretty intense from where I was sitting. I could still feel the heat from where his hands had been on my knees. I hadn’t moved an inch since Reece had moved away from me. When could a guy with a simple statement throw me so off guard?
I hadn’t actually answered the question, but Reece sat back down and handed me a beer. Ahh beer. While most girls were prone to fruity drinks that usually had some sexual act in the name, I was good with a nice cold beer. Plus, the type Reece had handed to me was a local brew I liked. Okay, points to him for good taste in beer.
I took a long pull, the coolness bringing me back to my senses a bit, enough to realize that if I was to have any relationship with Reece right now, it would have to be friendship. It couldn’t be anything more. I was in no position to try the whole relationship thing again. And while I was okay with being friends, I wanted to know more about him..
“So the only reason you came back was because you had to?” I mentally shook my head. One day I would tactfully learn how to pose a question. Today was not that day.
Reece simply shrugged. “It was time.”
“Where were you living before moving back home?”
When I said home I could see Reece tense up a bit, but it quickly disappeared. If you weren’t watching him, you wouldn’t have seen it. The difference was most people put up walls that made them closed off; a big sign saying stay away. Like myself, I know. Reece, on the other hand, put up this happy go lucky front, and only in quiet times did I catch that there was more to him. We were both trying to figure each other out.
Reece still answered, “That is a tricky question. I guess the correct question to ask is where haven’t I been before moving back to Boise. And that answer is a bit of everywhere.”
“What do you mean?” I was intrigued by his answer.
“When I graduated from high school, I moved out of my parents’ house, living here and there across the country.”
“So you are saying you haven’t been back here since you were, what, eighteen?”
“That would be correct.” He ran his finger around the opening of the bottle he was drinking. He wasn’t looking directly at me, but rather staring intently at the bottle, as if it were going to combust. Okay, so maybe this was a tough topic to talk about. Maybe I should drop it.
“So where exactly have you lived in the past seven years?” I asked bluntly. I was honestly curious about why Reece hadn’t been home, and why he had lived in so many different places.
“Why do you care?” Reece’s hand stilled on the bottle as he turned his eyes toward me. His face had a look of disinterest, but his eyes were more intense, more knowing.
That was a good question. Why did I care? I had only wanted to take a Sunday bike ride and grab groceries, and now suddenly I was sitting in Reece’s house. A guy, a ridiculously hot guy, who I had only been lukewarm to since I had gotten back had me all sorts of curious. In all reality, he didn’t owe me any answers about his mysterious life. Which, of course, didn’t mean I didn’t want to know. Oh, I wanted to know. I felt drawn to him and I couldn’t explain why I was hell bent on Reece telling me the secrets he held.
Like that was going to stop me, though. While everything was yelling at me to stay away, I couldn’t help my curiosity. I needed to know what was going on in that head of his. His calm demeanor made me edgy. My mind was telling me it wasn’t natural how easy and laid back he was. Even during the crazy rushes we had at work, he still held his cool and was always there to lend a helping hand.
However, this was something different, a different emotion he was feeling, which I usually didn’t get to see at work. So, yeah, I was bit curious and I cared. Although, that didn’t answer the why part now did it?
I decided to be honest because honesty was always something I felt I could fall back on.
“I guess I’m trying to get to know you.” I answered truthfully.
“Why do you want to get to know me?” Reece asked with his eyes still turned on me. It was like he was trying to memorize me. I was slightly unnerved, but I wasn’t going to back down even if he was being stubborn and asking such hard questions.
Damn. Why was he asking such hard questions? Can’t a girl just get a little bit of information? When it came to Reece, I tried not to give off any mixed signals. I wasn’t ready to date, let alone get close to another guy, and I had this sinking feeling Reece could easily be a guy to get lost in.
I admit, I usually wasn’t like this, but I was realizing this was not going to be easy. Reece was going to make me work for it. What was a girl to do? I wasn’t even sure why I wanted to get to know him. I just knew my curiosity was piqued; I wanted to know what made Reece Day tick.
“I’m going to be honest with you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That sounds interesting. I like Honest June.”
This time it was myself raising an eyebrow. “That makes me sound like a president.”
Reece leaned back and laughed, only to return to his previous position and gently take my hands into his much larger ones. His thumb made little circles on the backs of my hand, causing me to lose concentration. I was only able to focus on the feeling of his hands on mine.
I took a deep breath and glanced back up at Reece. He asked me again, “Why do you want to know me?”
The million dollar question. “I don’t know, I can’t explain it.” His hands never left mine, even with that lame answer.
“Let’s do this, okay? We’ll trade. You tell me something about your story and I’ll tell you something about mine. And we have to be honest. You said the other day that yours is in revision. Well, to me it’s all new. I’m a clean slate, you can tell me anything you want, however you want to tell it.”
A part of me wanted to tell him my whole story, every part despite whether it was good or bad. The appeal of him not knowing my past—the expectations people had of me—was intriguing … even if mine was in shambles. It was in need of a complete rewrite because everything I thought I knew about my life and my future was changing, and for the first time, I have no idea where it was going.
“Why are you holding my hands?” was apparently my first question.
This brought a small chuckle from Reece. I started to realize I could easily get used to the sound of his laugh, a warm one that could heat up any cold day. “Because I want to. When I look at you, I see a woman with all these different layers. All I want to do is unwrap each one, finding what’s underneath.”
This man should write poetry.
“I’m looking for friendship, Reece.”
“Okay.”
“A friend,” I emphasized.
“I can be your friend.”
“I don’t know if friends unwrap layers.”
Reece only gave me a sly smile and squeezed my hands before letting go to stand up and grab two more beers.
“Where were we? Oh, yes, where I have lived in the last seven years. The list is long, so be ready for it.” He was totally deflecting, but this had already been a lot to t
ake in this afternoon so I let it slide.
“Here, I will go first,” I volunteered. “I have lived in Portland and Boise. That’s it. A city native with the heart of a country girl.”
Reece laughed as he took a sip from his beer. I smiled as he set his drink down and rested his elbows on his knees. It was like he was going to give a pep talk.
“When I said I lived here and there I wasn’t kidding. Right after school I moved to New York and worked as a bike messenger during the day, and served at one of those tiny little diners hidden away in the city at night,” Reece told me.
I raised an eyebrow. “New York? Wow, that’s pretty far. You weren’t kidding about wanting to get away.” I had never been east, except for a quick trip to the airport in New York during high school when I went on a trip to Japan. I had always stuck close to home for the most part.
“Yeah, and New York was the furthest east I have been. Since then I have steadily been moving back west. After about a year in New York I moved to Miami and took another serving job. That one only lasted about six months, and then I moved a bit more north to Michigan, where I worked in a tiny town as a construction worker. That one lasted about two years. I liked the tiny town living and work was steady.”
“P.s., Michigan is more than a bit north of Miami,” I interjected.
“Noted,” Reece replied with a smirk. “Next, I lived in Kansas, working with farmers and harvesting corn. That was again short-lived; only for six months. After my corn expedition, I moved to Colorado and lived in Denver, where I served and taught skiing lessons. About a year of that and I moved to Salt Lake, serving during the day and teaching more skiing lessons on weekends. That was where I was living before returning to Boise.”
“If I understand correctly, you have served, worked as a construction worker, a bike messenger, a farmer, and a ski instructor?” I asked, ticking each occupation off on my fingers.
“I’m a jack-of-all-trades kind of man.” Reece leaned back and put his hands behind his head. Damn, this was a nice view. His shirt rode up, allowing me to see defined muscles and a mess of dark hair leading down into his jeans. I swallowed as I thought of him being a jack-of-all-trades and wondering if it transferred into the bedroom. Ugh, totally not appropriate friend thoughts. Fail on my part.
Finding June Page 4