Page 54 of A Little Tempting
He hasn’t said much since we pulled up. Part of me wonders if he feels uncomfortable. Being here. Like this is a family matter or something, and in a way, I guess he isn’t wrong, but I’ve never seen Reeves out of his element. Right now? With the way he’s leaning against the entrance doorjamb, his hands tucked into his jean pockets, the majority of his body staying out of the house, and the lack of smart-ass comments coming from him. I don’t know. He seems…off.
Or at least he did, until my mom addressed him, and now he’s in the spotlight. As if he’s a well-seasoned actor, he gives my mom his signature smirk and announces, “I’ve always been a sucker for a sleepover.”
My mom’s eyes widen, and I interject, “Mom, he’s kidding. Er, half-kidding, but…do they know what caused the fire?”
“They think it was some of the wiring,” my dad answers as he shifts his phone from one ear to the other, “but they’re still investigating.”
“At least I have my medication.” Finley pulls her orange prescription bottle from her purse, lifts it into the air, and shakes it back and forth.
“Yeah, we’re all very impressed,” Griffin jokes, but my mom elbows him in the ribs.
“Be nice. It’s one less thing we have to replace. But for now…” She sighs again. “I guess we need to shop for a few essentials.” Pulling out her phone, she checks the time on the screen and frowns. “It’s getting late, though. Hmm.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Thorne,” Reeves adds. “Dylan loves borrowing my clothes, so I’m sure we can pull together a few things for her and Finley until tomorrow.” My dad pins him with a warning stare, his phone call forgotten, and Reeves lifts his hands. “Platonically, of course.”
“Platonically, huh?” My mom quirks her brow.
With a nod, he replies, “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman, I swear. Why don’t you guys go to the hotel and get some rest? I’m happy to take the girls shopping tomorrow if you and Mr. Thorne need to be here to meet with anyone.”
She smiles back at him and opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.
“Pretty sure it won’t be necessary. Not the whole getting rest part, but the whole taking me shopping thing.”
“Aw, come on, Dylan,” Reeves quips. “I can even wait outside the dressing room, and you can model all your choices like a solid 90s movie.”
My eyes glaze, and I shake my throbbing head. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Well, apparently, I’ve failed you as a mother,” my mom interjects. “Because I know exactly what he’s talking about.”
“I bet you know what Dramione means, too, am I right?” Reeves asks, his eyes practically gleaming.
With a light laugh, she turns to me, giving me a startled look and making me feel like I’ve been living under a rock. “You don't know what Dramione means? Sweetie…I know screens haven’t always been your friend, but Harry Potter? Should I be ashamed or impressed?” She pulls me into another hug and rubs her hand up and down my arm. “Okay, we should have a Harry Potter marathon. What do you guys say? Not today or anything, but?—”
“Mom, my house just burned down,” I remind her.
“Which is even more of a reason why you need a distraction,” she argues. “Honestly, we all do. Besides, it’s almost Halloween, and Harry Potter involves witches, so, obviously, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.” Her eyes glow with enthusiasm as she bounces her brows up and down. And it’s nice. Seeing her smile when we all had a shitty day.
Defeated, I mutter, “I’m not sure Harry Potter should get the Halloween movie label, but fine. Can we nail down logistics later, though? After everything that happened tonight, my brain feels like mush.”
“Yeah, of course.” She waves me off. “I’ll send out invitations later.”
“I don’t think we need invitations for a Harry Potter marathon,” I point out.
“Mrs. Thorne is right,” Reeves interrupts. “You definitely need invitations.”
My mom grins back at him. “See? I knew I liked you, Reeves. Keep an eye out for your invitation in the mail, all right?”
“Okay,Grandma,” Griffin teases.
“Oh, shush,” she calls back to him. “I want to make this feel authentic.”
Chuckling, Reeves squeezes the back of his neck and nods. “Sure thing, Mrs. Thorne. I’ll watch for it.”
“Thank you,Reeves.” She tosses a mock glare at her son. Everyone says their goodbyes, and within another ten minutes or so, my parents climb back in their car, pull onto the street, and wave goodbye through the passenger window.
“Well…” Finley rubs her hands together. “Who’s ready for a sleepover?”
“Dude, I want to climb in bed and sleep for eternity,” I tell her.