This time Reed moves willingly, permitting me to lead him across the dance floor. We make it out of the tent, and I keep walking, following a caterer into the farmhouse where a few guests are mingling around a large table covered in hors d’oeuvres.
I have no idea where I’m going, or what my plan is, but the second I see a staircase leading to a seemingly quiet second level, I take it.
Reed doesn’t protest or try and lead me in another direction. He doesn’t speak. He keeps his grip tight on my hand while his heavy feet follow me into the first room at the top of the stairs.
I shut the door behind us, running my hand along the wall for the switch. A small lamp turns on in the corner.
“Are you okay?” I ask, wincing at my obvious stupidity as I turn to face him.
Really, Beth? Clearly he’s not okay.
Pacing in front of the window, Reed rakes his hands roughly down his face, scraping his stubble. His shoulders are hunched forward, pulling the dress shirt tight against his back and displaying his lean waist.
“Fuck!” he growls, stopping to look out the window and pointing at something down below. “That fucking bitch. Not only does she pick this venue, here, to throw this shit, but she invites me to it knowing I’d recognize that motherfucker. And then I go and react like that. I couldn’t show her I didn’t give a shit about her anymore. I stood there, shocked, unable to do anything, say anything, like a fucking pussy. Fuck!”
Blinking slowly, I try to take in what he’s just said, but my mind floods with questions. It doesn’t make sense to me.
“You know him?” I take a cautious step forward, stopping when Reed snaps his head in my direction. My hands tangle nervously together against my stomach. “You . . . were you friends? Why did he not recognize you?”
“We weren’t friends.” He exhales a heavy, depleted sigh, turning around and slumping back against the wall beside the window. He drops his head and his eyes lose focus. “I never knew him. I just recognize him. A few months after Molly went away to college, she started acting different. I didn’t know what was going on. She just stopped calling me, stopped coming home to see me, and when I would get her on the phone, she couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. I’d visit her when I could and things seemed fine when I was there, but Tessa was convinced something was going on. She told me to drop in on Molly when she wasn’t expecting me. So I did.”
I inch forward slowly, looking for any sign from him indicating I should stay where I am, but Reed never looks up.
“What happened?” I ask, apprehensive for the answer but too curious not to probe. The toes of my boots knock against his feet, halting my progression.
He tips his chin to his right. “Walked in on her riding his dick.”
I bring my hands to my face, my breath hot against my fingers. “Reed.”
He doesn’t react to my voice, his name, doesn’t lift his eyes from where they stay glued to some spot on the floor.
Oh, God. I knew she hurt him somehow. I thought she ended things, blindsiding him and breaking his heart. But this? Walking in on something like that?
Bitch.
I understand now why he froze up, but that still doesn’t explain why having the party here is an issue for him.
My one hand circles his wrist while my other falls to my side. “Why does it matter that it’s here?”
Now he can’t seem to look anywhere but where I’m holding him. He blinks once, turning his arm so my fingers slide to his palm.
“You’re about to hear how pathetic I used to be. I’m not sure that’s something I want you to know.”
“I bet I won’t think you were pathetic.”
“Sweetheart.” He licks his lips, wetting them. “I was the definition.” Lifting his head, he drops it back against the wall and stares at me through half-closed lids. His light hair is disheveled, some pieces falling close to his eyes. He looks tired, but God, he’s so sexy I almost forget what we’re talking about. Reaching up with the hand not occupied with mine, he yanks at the knot in his tie and pops the top button of his collar.
Now he’s unkempt. Unruly.
I’ve been known to get a little rowdy sometimes.
His words to me from our day together. A joke at the time, but now with this visual in front of me I’m finding it difficult to imagine him ever controlled. And strangely, I don’t want to imagine it. I want him messy, up against a wall. Clothes partially undone.
Me, completely undone.
The sound of his throat clearing has me searching for his eyes in the soft light. I had been staring at his mouth. His jaw. The cords in his neck. Did he notice?
“I was fine with her going away to college. Four years was a long time, but I knew I would be okay. I wanted her to know that. Wanted her to see how serious I was about us.” He pauses to scratch the back of his head, then his hand slaps against his thigh. He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe at the time I felt desperate. I loved her. Love makes you do stupid shit. And I was definitely a dumb motherfucker back then to ask that bitch to marry me.”