She blinks and I can feel that she’s stung, but I don’t apologize. “You’re so right,” she purrs, recovering quickly. “In fact, I tried to seduce the owner, but he was gay, so I’m stuck on the slow track of sleeping my way to the top.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I mutter.
“Then what?” she snaps, tearing open the peanut M&M’s. Belatedly I realize we never did stop for breakfast.
“I just meant that you’ve always been driven. Known what you wanted.” I hold out my palm, and she dumps some of the colored candies into my hand before fishing one out and popping it in her mouth as she continues to glare at me.
“I’m not going to apologize for going to college, Reece.”
I don’t want you to. But how about you apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. Without giving me a chance to explain anything.
I toss the entire palmful of M&M’s into my mouth. “You’re impossible to talk to.”
“You started it,” she says, and I almost smile, having flashbacks to when we were kids, still figuring out how to talk to each other.
Lucy leans forward, flicking the radio back on. Country again, but I leave it.
Because listening to the guy warbling about his broken heart is a hell of a lot better than reminiscing about mine.
Chapter 14
LUCY, EIGHTEEN, REECE, NINETEEN
“If your brother catches me, he’s going to kill me,” Reece muttered as he hoisted himself through Lucy’s bedroom window.
“No he won’t,” she said, quickly putting her palm on the top of his head to keep him from banging it on the frame. “I can handle Craig.”
He stood before her, reached out, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My little protector.”
Lucy reached up, looped her arms over his shoulders. “My parents though. They’ll kill you.”
He winced, started to pull back. Lucy immediately regretted her playful words. “Don’t go,” she whispered.
His expression was tortured. “I can’t be here, Lucy. This thing with us…it’s crazy. It’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong,” she said, cupping his cheek. “It feels more right than anything I’ve ever experienced.”
His eyes closed as he let her fingers roam his face, her palm scraping at his stubble, fingertips light along his lips. “Why can’t I stay away from you?”
“I don’t want you to stay away,” she said, reaching up and bringing his mouth down to hers.
His kiss was hesitant at first, as though still trying to talk himself into leaving.
Lucy kissed him with every ounce of longing in her eighteen-year-old body, showing him with hands and lips what she wasn’t yet brave enough to tell him with words.
The greedy way his hands gripped her butt, the gentle way he palmed her breasts, his quiet groan when she tilted her hips to his told her everything she needed to know.
It told her he felt the same. Even if he didn’t know it yet.
Chapter 15
Lucy
“You’re fidgeting,” Reece says in an irritable voice.
He’s always irritable. Have you noticed?
“My skirt keeps riding up,” I mutter, shifting to tug it down.
“Maybe if you wore something bigger than a piece of masking tape wrapped around your ass…”
I smirk a little that he’s noticed. Not that I needed the verbal confirmation that Reece noticed my outfit today. Few moments in my life have been as gratifying as coming out of my Savannah motel room to find him leaning against the side of the car, looking bored.
Bored until he saw me in a flared coral miniskirt and a silky black halter top. The high-heeled sandals didn’t hurt.
He blinked and tensed, and for a second there I had to remind myself that I’d dressed for Oscar. Not Reece.
If I repeat it often enough, maybe it’ll become true.
Then Reece snapped at me about being late even after I was the one who insisted on leaving at the ass-crack of dawn…and just like that we’re back to normal.
I put my notebook away. I meant the journal to be more of a keepsake—a way of making sure I actually remember the journey instead of only focusing on the end result, which tends to be my MO.
But it’s been surprisingly…therapeutic.
After long hours in the car with Reece and all the freaking memories, it helps to have an outlet. A place to talk about my frustration and my pain and…
Crap. There I go thinking about Reece again.
I tell myself it’s because we’re closing in on Miami and I’m…nervous.
I’ve had seven hours to think about my excitement, to anticipate the exact moment I walk into Oscar’s restaurant. I’ve timed it so that we’ll get there around 3:30. The restaurant is a late-night hot spot, which means it doesn’t open until five, and I know Oscar usually gets there no later than three to oversee prep for the evening ahead.
But admittedly, there’s something I didn’t think through.
After the grand Surprise! moment, then what? Oscar still has a restaurant to run.
My whole reason for surprising him is because I don’t want him to do anything special for my arrival (the man is prone to grand, sometimes cheesy gestures), but by not giving him any warning, he also wouldn’t have planned to take the night off.
I know he’ll plan to take tomorrow off, when he thinks I’m getting in. And although I’m staying two nights in Miami (yeah, Reece is thrilled about that), it’s still going to be potentially awkward with me just like…hanging out at the restaurant all night? Like the little woman?
“That’s not what I meant,” I mutter.
“Then what?” she snaps, tearing open the peanut M&M’s. Belatedly I realize we never did stop for breakfast.
“I just meant that you’ve always been driven. Known what you wanted.” I hold out my palm, and she dumps some of the colored candies into my hand before fishing one out and popping it in her mouth as she continues to glare at me.
“I’m not going to apologize for going to college, Reece.”
I don’t want you to. But how about you apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. Without giving me a chance to explain anything.
I toss the entire palmful of M&M’s into my mouth. “You’re impossible to talk to.”
“You started it,” she says, and I almost smile, having flashbacks to when we were kids, still figuring out how to talk to each other.
Lucy leans forward, flicking the radio back on. Country again, but I leave it.
Because listening to the guy warbling about his broken heart is a hell of a lot better than reminiscing about mine.
Chapter 14
LUCY, EIGHTEEN, REECE, NINETEEN
“If your brother catches me, he’s going to kill me,” Reece muttered as he hoisted himself through Lucy’s bedroom window.
“No he won’t,” she said, quickly putting her palm on the top of his head to keep him from banging it on the frame. “I can handle Craig.”
He stood before her, reached out, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My little protector.”
Lucy reached up, looped her arms over his shoulders. “My parents though. They’ll kill you.”
He winced, started to pull back. Lucy immediately regretted her playful words. “Don’t go,” she whispered.
His expression was tortured. “I can’t be here, Lucy. This thing with us…it’s crazy. It’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong,” she said, cupping his cheek. “It feels more right than anything I’ve ever experienced.”
His eyes closed as he let her fingers roam his face, her palm scraping at his stubble, fingertips light along his lips. “Why can’t I stay away from you?”
“I don’t want you to stay away,” she said, reaching up and bringing his mouth down to hers.
His kiss was hesitant at first, as though still trying to talk himself into leaving.
Lucy kissed him with every ounce of longing in her eighteen-year-old body, showing him with hands and lips what she wasn’t yet brave enough to tell him with words.
The greedy way his hands gripped her butt, the gentle way he palmed her breasts, his quiet groan when she tilted her hips to his told her everything she needed to know.
It told her he felt the same. Even if he didn’t know it yet.
Chapter 15
Lucy
“You’re fidgeting,” Reece says in an irritable voice.
He’s always irritable. Have you noticed?
“My skirt keeps riding up,” I mutter, shifting to tug it down.
“Maybe if you wore something bigger than a piece of masking tape wrapped around your ass…”
I smirk a little that he’s noticed. Not that I needed the verbal confirmation that Reece noticed my outfit today. Few moments in my life have been as gratifying as coming out of my Savannah motel room to find him leaning against the side of the car, looking bored.
Bored until he saw me in a flared coral miniskirt and a silky black halter top. The high-heeled sandals didn’t hurt.
He blinked and tensed, and for a second there I had to remind myself that I’d dressed for Oscar. Not Reece.
If I repeat it often enough, maybe it’ll become true.
Then Reece snapped at me about being late even after I was the one who insisted on leaving at the ass-crack of dawn…and just like that we’re back to normal.
I put my notebook away. I meant the journal to be more of a keepsake—a way of making sure I actually remember the journey instead of only focusing on the end result, which tends to be my MO.
But it’s been surprisingly…therapeutic.
After long hours in the car with Reece and all the freaking memories, it helps to have an outlet. A place to talk about my frustration and my pain and…
Crap. There I go thinking about Reece again.
I tell myself it’s because we’re closing in on Miami and I’m…nervous.
I’ve had seven hours to think about my excitement, to anticipate the exact moment I walk into Oscar’s restaurant. I’ve timed it so that we’ll get there around 3:30. The restaurant is a late-night hot spot, which means it doesn’t open until five, and I know Oscar usually gets there no later than three to oversee prep for the evening ahead.
But admittedly, there’s something I didn’t think through.
After the grand Surprise! moment, then what? Oscar still has a restaurant to run.
My whole reason for surprising him is because I don’t want him to do anything special for my arrival (the man is prone to grand, sometimes cheesy gestures), but by not giving him any warning, he also wouldn’t have planned to take the night off.
I know he’ll plan to take tomorrow off, when he thinks I’m getting in. And although I’m staying two nights in Miami (yeah, Reece is thrilled about that), it’s still going to be potentially awkward with me just like…hanging out at the restaurant all night? Like the little woman?
