Page 36 of Sing Your Secrets
She draws in a deep breath. “Yeeaaah…I might have a little problem.”
“Where’s the shrine?”
“Closet,” she shoots back a little too quickly. She rolls her eyes as she watches my expression turn from humorous to concerned. “Kidding.”
“Mhmm, you have a lock of his hair somewhere, don’t you?”
“Just a hat.” She pumps her brows twice. “Front row at his OMG Tour. He threw his hat into the crowd.” Reese shrugs nonchalantly. “I may have fought a bitch for it. Now it sits in the center of the shrine.”
“All right,” I mumble. “Now, I’m concerned.”
“Don’t be. You can’t clone shit from a hat. I promise. I’ve asked around.”
I snort again. “Outside of the obvious, why Usher? Why doesn’t Ginuwine get a row?” I ask pointing to the wall of CDs.
“Outside of the obvious,” she says in a mocking tone, “it’s not a crush situation. I just like his range. I listen to Usher when I’m sad, when I’m angry, when I feel like partying, and when I’m in the mood. It’s like having a friend through all the stages. Great music provokes emotion—good and bad. Usually, when I’m making a mix, it takes several different artists and genres to compose a complete emotional thought for me. But Usher does it all, on his own.” She pats the side of the rack. “So, he gets his own row.”
“That’s…” Beautiful. Insightful. Sexy. Charming. You are going to fucking ruin me, Reese. “Pretty cool.”
“Bathroom’s that way.” She points to the door on the other side of the room. “There are clean towels under the sink. Please feel free to use my soap, shampoo, whatever you like.”
“Thank you,” I say turning toward the door.
“Oh!” she yelps and I turn around to face her wide grin. “Because I know you’ll have questions, the turquoise silicon thing on the shower rack is indeed my vibrator. Don’t bother trying to use it, the battery is dead.”
I peer at her, my mouth gaping. “What would I—” Stop. “Why would you think—” Stop again. “Use your—” I run my hand through my hair. “You know, you could’ve snuck in there and hid it and I’d be none the wiser.” I know you’re trying to tempt me. It will be a miracle if I make it out of this apartment in the morning without begging Reese to ride my face.
“Oh, you’re misunderstanding.” She purses her lips. “I’m not embarrassed. I was just warning you. The last dude who used my shower thought it was something else and it was a little awkward to explain after he’d already used it to massage his sore neck.” She bursts into a laugh.
“You really just say whatever’s on your mind, don’t you?”
Her expression sobers for a moment—all humor wiped clean in an instant. “Most of the time,” she mutters under her breath. I let the air fall silent between us as I study yet another new expression. She’s smart, sassy, funny, sexy…but what is this? Sad? A little haunted?
Getting to know this girl is going to take some time. It’s probably something I need to stick around for.
“All right,” I say nodding over my shoulder to the bathroom door. “Well, I’ll make it quick.”
“I’ll get started on that pillow barrier,” she says, wiggling her nose. I glance at the plethora of throw pillows, in every shade of pink, on the neatly made bed. There are so many you can barely see her comforter, and yet I find myself thinking…
They still won’t be enough.
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