“I'm so sorry,” I said.
I felt a tremor go through his body and his arms tightened around me for the briefest of moments. I inhaled deeply, indulging myself for a few seconds as his scent carried me back to that night. Then he was releasing me and taking a step a backwards, putting distance between us.
“Thank you for coming.” His voice was stiff and he didn't meet my eyes. He seemed to be looking everywhere but at me.
“Of course.” I was surprised that I managed not to let the words betray the stab of hurt that went through me. He was grieving. I had no right to have expectations of his behavior. I repeated that to myself as Anastascia and I found seats. It didn't lessen the pain and only made me feel guilty. It wasn't only my questions, though. Those were easier than I'd thought to hold back. No, I simply wanted to be there for him. Be his friend, as he’d always been to me. I wanted to put my arms around him and hold him, try to take away his pain.
“Piper.”
A low male voice said my name and I turned, starting to smile. The expression froze when I saw Reed taking a seat across the aisle. I forced myself to finish the smile. I still hadn't figured out how I felt about the other morning. Every time I tried to think about it, I started worrying about how Julien was doing. Reed really did have awful timing.
“Hi.”
“Can I talk to you?”
I shook my head. “Not now.” I gestured toward the front of the sanctuary where the family was moving to their seats.
“Do you know what you're going to say to Reed?” Anastascia whispered as a priest slowly walked across the platform to stand on the other side of the casket.
“Nope, not a clue.” I pulled my coat more tightly around my shoulders. Winter had come with a vengeance yesterday, blasting Philadelphia with cold air and flurries of snow too dry to stick. I'd only been in Vegas a couple of years, but the heat had made me forget what a real winter was like. The exterior chill just added to the interior cold I felt. I felt frozen with uncertainty.
Thankfully, Anastascia didn't try to pressure me into anything. She knew what a difficult time I was having and had been very supportive. What she hadn't been able to do, however, was tell me what I was supposed to do. I had a feeling there was an opinion she was keeping to herself for some reason, but I didn't push her on it. I wasn't sure I was ready to know what she truly thought anyway.
I tried to focus on what the priest was saying about Julien's father, hoping I could gain some insight into the family. It didn't take long to realize that the list of platitudes being spouted had nothing to do with the real man Julien had known. My attention wandered, alternating between sideways glances across the aisle to see if Reed was still looking at me – he was – and ones up front to see if I could deduce any sort of emotion from the back of Julien's head – I couldn't. All Julien's hair did was remind me what it had felt like, brushing against my thighs, wound between my fingers.
I squeezed my eyes closed and took a slow breath. Those were not thoughts I needed to be having at a funeral.
The service was nearly twice as long as the one I'd had for my mother and enough different that it barely reminded me of hers at all. That was some small comfort for me, I supposed. I knew Anastascia had been worried about that. I would've been too if I hadn't been so busy thinking about how my friend was doing. I understood the loss of a parent, though mine hadn't been a surprise.
The service ended and everyone watched in silence as the pallbearers helped take the casket down the aisle and out the front of the church. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reed trying to get my attention but I turned away from him. I knew I needed to talk to him at some point, but I wanted to figure out how I was feeling before I did.
“I need to use the restroom,” I whispered as the ushers started to dismiss people. I slipped out the far side of the pew and headed toward the stairs at the back, hoping to avoid the throng of people in the back. I'd only been in here once as a kid, but I was pretty sure I remembered where things were.
A few minutes later, I had to admit that I was wrong. I was near what I assumed was the priest's study, but didn't see any sign of a bathroom. I sighed. It'd probably be quicker to go back into the sanctuary and wait until we got back to my place than it would be to keep searching.
As I hurried around the corner, I wasn't watching where I was going and ran straight into a wall of solid muscle. Hands closed on my arms and I looked up to see almost-black eyes looking down at me.
“Reed.” My mouth was suddenly dry.
“Piper.” His voice was soft, a caress over the word that made me remember other, more intimate, times he'd said my name. “I'm glad I finally caught you.”