Summer, page 15
part #3 of Seasons Series
“You’re not leaving?” Reed looked at me like it was Christmas morning and I was the biggest and best gift of all. We couldn’t have that.
“No, I’m not. And since Sky’s my best-friend, and Jax is yours, it’s inevitable we’ll be around each other a lot. I want us to be civil. Maybe even friends.”
“You want us to be friends?”
“Yes, Reed. Friends.”
Now Reed’s look said, fuck that. But that’s at most all we’d ever be again. It’s all I got for him.
Reed closed his eyes, tilted his head to the sky, and took a few deep breaths. He was acting like he was asking the Lord for some patience, or guidance. After a few seconds he lowered his head, opened his eyes, and said, “Fine.”
His eyes and body language didn’t say it was fine. They were saying it was anything but. His next words confirmed it.
“So, let’s clear the air. I already told you the truth about what I did all those years ago, I told you I was sorry, I told you I love you, that what we had was real, not fake, that you deserve better than Jack Parker, and that I stole your creation and put it on my body along with a few others. I understand why you left all those years ago, I now know you would’ve told me if we did have a child, you know I would’ve been there in a heartbeat, and I’m sorry once again for how I acted and what I said when I thought things would’ve been different. Other than that, I don’t know what else to say. What else to bring up and rehash. You’ve already apologized, you already told me what happened all those years ago and about the aftermath and the impact it had on your life. I already know how much I fucked up. I don’t know that we need to say anything else about the past. Or more about it. Because every time it just makes things worse. But I need you to know, Em, I will be sorry for the rest of my life for all of it. Just like I will love you for the rest of my life too. That’s it. That’s what I’ve got.”
That’s what he’s got? Really? So flippant? Like what he said was inconsequential? Paltry?
“Jesus, Reed. I don’t know what to say to that.”
“That you love me too?”
“Reed…”
“It’s fine, Em. Friends. We’ll be friends. Like you said.”
“You sure about that?” Because you don’t seem sure. You don’t seem fine. You say the word friends like it’s a dirty word. You’re acting like it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
“I’m sure. Friends.”
“Alright then. Friends.”
“Now what would you like for dinner?”
“Reed! We just went over this. I’m not staying for dinner.”
“Why not? Friends eat together all the time.”
That’s fair. But still not happening. “I can’t. I just wanted to stop by really quick and talk.”
“We can continue to talk and get to know each other how we are now, over dinner, as friends.”
“Reed—”
“Fine.” Said the same way he said friends.
I moved around Reed and let my eyes roam over his place again, one last time before I hit the road. I didn’t know if I’d ever be back. Friends or no friends, alone with Reed in his domain was not smart. It was dangerous.
“You really have a nice place,” I said, as I put on my jacket and headed towards the door.
“You only saw part of it. Maybe next time, I’ll give you the grand tour. Since I bought it for you. For us.”
I stutter-stepped…and then I flat-out stuttered. “W-What did you just say?”
“When we were younger, we always talked about what we’d want in a home. I made sure this place had most of it, but of course, it couldn’t have everything. I figured one day we’d get to pick something perfect together that had it all, but for right now, this was pretty close to what we dreamed up. So, I bought it for us.”
“I don’t understand you. I don’t understand any of this.”
“Don’t you get it by now, Em? I was always waiting for you to come back.”
Reed was always waiting for me to come back. While I never planned to return.
One of us got our wish.
I was here.
What the hell was I supposed to do with all of this information?
I didn’t say anything more and neither did he. I silently walked out the door and to the elevators. I didn’t look behind me the whole way there, nor while I was waiting for the car to rise. I didn’t look back down the hall until I stepped inside, pressed the button, and turned.
Reed was still standing in his doorway looking at me. He stayed looking at me until the doors closed between us, eyes locked on mine with laser focus. The pull, the connection, was magnetic. Electric. It always had been.
One hour with him and I was forgetting myself. Forgetting why I stayed away. Forgetting that he hurt me. Forgetting that he changed the course of my life. Forgetting that we were no longer Emma and Reed. A pair, a duo, soulmates.
Part of me regretted leaving and not staying for dinner. Part of me really wanted to bask in the familiar while enjoying the anticipation of getting to know the new. The other part knew I couldn’t. The other part knew it would be so easy to fall back into a routine with him. To fall back into his arms.
To fall back in love.
CHAPTER NINE
REED
The strength it took to not kiss Emma before she left the other night was superhuman. I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her. Honestly, I would’ve settled for a peck on the lips. A kiss on the cheek. A freaking forehead kiss.
Though, according to Emma—the Emma of old—those types of kisses were in her top three.
Her birthmark. Her lips. Her forehead.
I preferred between her thighs, her birthmark and her lips all tied in the number one spot. But whatever. I’d take what I could get. And apparently, I got nothing.
That’s not true.
You got to kiss her birthmark.
The birthmark—it was still there. A lot of things were. Hidden. But there.
The fire in her eyes when she turned around after that kiss—after the kiss, the shiver, the barest of whimpers—yeah, some things were definitely still there. Buried…but there. Whether Emma wanted to admit it or not, I still affected her and got under her skin. But she only wanted to be friends. Friends. Fuck that.
I saw the way she looked at me when I opened the door in nothing but a pair of sweats. The way her eyes feasted before she forced herself to look away.
The proper thing to do would’ve been to put a shirt on. But once again, fuck that. I needed all the help I could get.
When I opened the door and saw Em standing there—you could’ve knocked me over with a stick. She sought me out. She came to me. Again. I quickly got my bearings, then some answers, and finally some much needed relief. Emma apologized for some of the shitty things she’s said over the last few days—some warranted, some not—and she also informed me that she would’ve told me about the baby. If there’d be one.
I knew I shouldn’t have let the, I honestly don’t know, get to me. I thought I was past it. But until she said the words the other day letting me know that she would’ve included me and not taken something like that away from me, keeping me in the dark, like I did to her all those years ago, I realized I wasn’t as over it as I thought.
Emma said the words and it was like an imaginary fist unfurled its massive grip from around my heart and guts. It was the same as with the anyone but you.
Everything seemed to be going great after that. We were bantering back and forth like old times. I even flirted a little. I got a genuine smile or two. Then I got a jolt.
When I turned around to get us some drinks, Em saw my backpiece, and to say she sent me reeling again would be an understatement. I mean, what were the odds? Was it God, Fate, The Universe? Without a doubt it was divine intervention that had me on her website at that exact time on that very day before she removed it.
One hour. One drawing. One life.
It was days later, and I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. It’s been days and I could still feel her touch against my skin where she grazed her fingertips over my ink. I could still feel her skin under my lips. I had Em’s dreamcatcher. And she still had her heart-shaped birthmark.
I don’t know what possessed me to find out—or why she let me look, touch, taste. But she did. She let me kiss her; she gave me her shiver, her whimper, her heat.
Then I got the backhand.
She wanted to be fucking friends.
After the intense moment between us, instead of making a move on her like I wanted to, I decided to lighten the mood with our pair-game. I asked her questions; I asked her to stay for dinner. As friends.
She didn’t stay. However, she was staying.
When Em told me she was staying in town and that’s why we needed to be friends—holy fuck, my heart. She wasn’t leaving. She wanted a new foundation. A new beginning. I could work with that. But if she thought I was wiping the slate completely clean she had another thing coming. Couldn’t she tell that wasn’t going to happen with me? I told her I bought her a home to live in because I always knew she’d come back, and I told her I loved her, and I always would for Christ’s sake.
The look she gave me—while saying nothing—after I told her all of that? It spoke volumes. The loudest of decibels. Emma was affected to the extreme. She didn’t want to be, but she was. I was taking her silence as a win. She didn’t shoot me down and she didn’t say no. I was running with that shit. Hopefully all the way to the altar.
It might take me a while to set things in motion though. Since I haven’t seen or spoken to her in days. I could’ve—should’ve—texted her with the number I pilfered from Jax but didn’t.
Pilfered. That freaking word.
I couldn’t see the dreamcatcher on my back, but I could feel it. My skin felt like it was tingling.
The dreamcatcher…it was everything. Like her name across my heart. Her lips marking my body. The lock and puzzle piece. The heart shaped birthmark. All of it.
Like her.
Like Emma.
It’s been days since I’ve seen or spoken with her…but about thirty seconds since talking to her “roommate.”
Don’t be pissy because you wish Emma was your roommate instead of Sky’s. What did you think? She’d find out you bought her a home and she’d move right in? And you’d live happily-ever-after? Fuck, you’re stupid.
“This is nice, isn’t it? Maybe this should become our thing every weekend,” Sky said to me and Jax. I wasn’t going to burst her bubble, but that shit was never going to happen. Every weekend?
“Like the Three Musketeers,” she added.
More like the Three Stooges. Stupid. Silly. “Christ, when did we become this adult?” I said instead to no one in particular.
“What do you mean?” Sky asked, before she took a sip from her champagne flute. Her champagne flute. At breakfast. She needed me to say more?
“We’re at brunch, Sky. Brunch. You’re drinking a Bellini. You ordered blintzes. And Jax ordered Belgian fucking waffles. When did we become people who brunch? We are bar people. Burger people.”
“Emma is this.”
“Emma is what?”
“Emma is someone who loves brunch and Bellini’s. Who do you think introduced me to brunching and bubbly? I tried to get her to come today but she was busy. She said maybe next time.”
“Emma brunches? Since when? And what the hell is she busy with? It’s eleven o’clock on a Saturday morning.” A rare one that me and Jax had off. And we were spending it here drinking frou-frou drinks and ordering fancy food.
“Yes, she brunches. So remember that next time you want to bash it. And she’s spending the day at the salon and spa getting ready for her date tonight.”
Say what now? “Excuse me?”
“She’s spending the day—”
“Not that. The other part.”
Sky blew out a deep breath. She looked like she didn’t want to repeat herself, but she did. “Tonight’s her date with Jack. Karaoke night at Molly’s.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me! She didn’t cancel that shit? Did you not talk to her about this fucking guy?”
I asked Sky the question, but she wasn’t the one who answered. “Sky talked to her, asshole. Obviously, Em didn’t cancel. It was her choice to make. And also, watch your fucking tone and what you say when it comes to my girl.”
Christ, Jax was right. Sky didn’t deserve my shit. “Sorry, Sky.”
“It’s fine. I know this must be frustrating for you.”
“Try, it’s killing me.”
“I thought after she came home from your place the other night, after she told me what happened and how she was feeling, she’d cancel. But she didn’t.”
“What’d she tell you?”
“Everything. From now…and before.”
“She told you everything?”
“She did. And Reed…I am so sorry. So unbelievably sorry. For her. And you.”
“It wasn’t real.”
“In both of your hearts and minds, whether months or a minute, it was. It was real. And I am so, so sorry.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Jax asked, clearly confused.
“You didn’t tell him?”
“It wasn’t something I felt I could share.” Sky looked over at Jax and grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Then she spoke to him. “It’s not my story to tell, Jax. Please trust me when I say it’s better that Reed tells you.”
Jax squeezed her hand in return then they both looked towards me. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready?” Jax asked me.
“I will.”
“Okay then.”
Christ, it was as simple as that. He trusted me. He trusted her. And I could trust her too. She had Em’s back. And in this case, mine. Even when she was withholding things from the love of her life.
“You know, Jax, you’re a lucky bastard.”
He looked at Sky, all lovey-dovey and shit. Then gave her a smile. Popping those dimples of his. Gag. “I know it.”
Just like I know I can trust him with anything. Especially this. I was ready.
I took a deep breath and for the next few minutes I told Jax everything. And felt better for it. Em had Sky. And I had Jax. I had his friendship, his support, his understanding, his love.
I needed Em though. I wanted Em. Soon. Hopefully.
When I was done sharing with Jax, I turned back to Sky. “And Sky, seriously, thank you. For everything. For being there for Em when I couldn’t for years. For being there for her now when I still can’t, even though I know exactly where she is. I knew this would be hard, I thought I knew what I was up against, but shit, I had no idea.”
“Just keep trying, Reed. I heard what she said, and I saw her. It’s still there. Underneath it all, what she felt for you, it’s still there. You might have to do a lot of digging, and have the patience of a saint, but I have faith in you.”
“When have I ever had the patience of a saint?” I joked, trying to lighten things again.
But freaking Jax.
“Never,” he said.
But that wasn’t entirely true. I waited months before I had sex with Emma the first time. Months before I told her I loved her even though I knew it for a while before then. I waited years for her to come back. I was still waiting to get her back, to marry her, to build our life together. There was no doubt in my mind it would happen. I never gave up before. And I wasn’t giving up now. I was not giving up. Which is why I was currently walking through the door of Molly’s hours later.
Emma was determined to date a douchebag, and I was determined to make sure she never got hurt again. Not by me or anyone else. Especially Douchebag Jack.
I made my way over to the bar, discretely looking left and right trying to spot her, but didn’t. I ordered myself a drink, and after my beer was placed in front of me, I swiveled on my stool and took in the room again. This time I found her right in front of the karaoke stage. And when my eyes met hers, hers were already on me. I raised my beer in salute—a friendly greeting, or a challenge, a warning, who knows?—and took a sip.
Man, if looks could kill, I’d be dead. I could see the twin blue flames burning all the way from over here.
That’s right, burn for me babe.
I gave her a smirk and took another sip while admiring the flush creeping into her cheeks. I chose to believe it was in desire instead of anger.
Emma looked away from me and back at her date, but I didn’t take my eyes off her. She was wearing black jeans, a navy sweater, and brown boots that nearly reached her knees. Her sweater looked soft, fuzzy, expensive. Her hair was straightened, and not one strand was out of place. Straightened the way it was, it landed a few inches above her waist. The dark auburn tresses stood out against the color of her sweater. The color of her top also made her eyes pop. Or it could’ve been the mascara on her lashes, the shadow and liner on her lids. As for her lips? They were painted in what I was beginning to think of as Emma’s signature red. She’s come a long way from thrift store, well-worn, and torn. Not that it was a bad thing. She was a vision both ways. But there was something about seeing her in chucks, tees, and jeans with rips and holes and frays.
She’s on a date dumbass.
It’s not like she’s going to wear that.
“I would’ve been fine with her wearing that,” I said to myself before I brought the beer to my lips once again to make myself shut up. I didn’t want to look too pathetic sitting here talking to myself. It was bad enough I was creeping on Em’s date from across the room.
I was just about to turn around and face the bar when I saw Emma stand and head towards the bathroom. She didn’t spare me not one glance. But I sure as hell ogled the shit out of her.
