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For any of this.
The following weekend, a boombox blasted from the deck as the scent of smoky barbecue wafted from heated grates, filling the air with summertime magic.
Reed sat slumped in a lounge chair, wearing sunglasses and a faded black baseball cap, a beer bottle dangling between his knees. He was facing my direction as I swept by him, but I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me, thanks to the sunglasses. Probably deliberate.
I sent him a smile anyway, just to be nice, just because I smiled at everyone, so it wouldn’t have made sense to not smile at him, too.
He fidgeted in place, bringing the nozzle to his lips and downing the rest of the beer, his unoccupied hand twitching against his thigh.
“Want me to get you anything?” I asked him, aimlessly shuffling pasta salad bowls around on the table.
Eyes still shadowed by dark lenses, Reed leaned forward on his elbows. “I’m good.”
An inflatable pool was blown up in the backyard, and Tara and a few friends rimmed the edges, cooling off beneath the scorching sun, their squeals and splashes floating to my ears. I glanced over at the group as they kicked puddles at each other.
“You should be over there having fun, not acting as the waitstaff.” His tone was acidic, his posture stiff.
I pivoted back to the table to hide my scowl. It was true I’d been running around all day, helping, assisting, cooking, and cleaning. But I enjoyed being useful. Especially when it came to people who didn’t get off on using me like my own parents had. Hospitality was my love language.
“Helping makes me happy.” Reaching into the fruit bowl, I popped a strawberry into my mouth. The tangy juice sluiced over my tongue as I glanced back at Reed over my shoulder.
He chugged down the rest of the beer in a few swallows and discarded the bottle, attention aimed at the wooden deck planks.
One of Whitney’s male co-workers helped man the grill, twirling hotdogs and flipping burgers, his demeanor far less frigid than Reed’s. Whitney idled beside him with a wine cooler, their laughter mingling with the music.
Their interactions were flirty.
Part of me wondered if that was why Reed was in a mood. Maybe it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his ex-girlfriend and some guy making eyes at each other.
“I’m going to restock the cooler,” I muttered to Whitney as I whooshed past her, swiping my hands down the light cottony fabric of my sundress.
She nodded with a smile before returning her attention to her friend.
I slipped inside to grab more refreshments, closing the sliding door behind me and stifling the sounds of The Offspring. My lavender dress kissed my knees and my hair sat high on my head, coiled into a messy bun that bobbed with every barefooted step across the hardwood floors.
Tara’s family always hosted a summer barbeque, and there was even more to celebrate than usual this year—we’d officially started packing, weeks away from moving into our new apartment. It was a slow-going process as we picked out new furniture and stowed away beloved knick-knacks into bins and boxes, but excitement was starting to claw its way through my apprehension.
And as the days drifted by and summer trickled on, I wondered how this new chapter would unfold. My feelings for Reed hadn’t lessened, not even a little. We’d managed to sneak away for a handful of private rendezvous that carved out new holes in my heart, leaving me hollow.
Every kiss was full of passion, yet over far too soon.
Sex was rough, abrupt, and urgent.
Reed hardly ever made eye contact. Never held me through the aftermath, or whispered pretty words into my ear. I was starting to wonder how much longer I could withstand our “arrangement.”
I glanced around the quiet house, humming under my breath as I made a pit stop to the bathroom first.
Washing my hands and readjusting my hair in the mirror, I noted that my summerlong sunburn had faded into a warm shade of bronze, making my eyes look lighter. My skin still gleamed with suntan lotion, and a smattering of freckles were sprinkled across the bridge of my nose and cheekbones. A smile tilted my lips as I gave myself a final onceover, dried my hands, then pulled open the door to head into the kitchen.
But my retreat was compromised when Reed barged inside the bathroom, shut and locked the door behind him, and proceeded to haul me up onto the sink counter before I could intake a breath.
“Reed—”
His mouth crashed to mine, and my legs instinctively linked around his hips.
Our tongues slashed together, filling each other’s mouths; hot, wet, desperate.
“Comet,” he murmured huskily, dragging his lips down my jaw and nipping my throat. “You’re killing me in this dress.”