A cold chill swept through me, and I shivered.
He was right.
Jane never would be the same.
Reese eyed me, standing up straight again. “Do you remember that one summer when me, you, Graham, and Mallory made a giant fort in the den with all of your mom’s clean guest sheets?”
I smiled at the memory, a flash of my young best friend helping me hang sheets hitting me so strong it was like she was still there. I hadn’t given myself much time to think about her, not since she’d left all those years ago.
She was just two years older than I was. I’d already lived a longer life than she was allowed to.
“My mom was so mad when she came home to that.”
“Yeah,” Reese agreed. “But then she made us sandwiches and snacks and helped us put together a sign for the front of it. Remember? She bought glitter for you and Mallory to use and everything.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “We stayed in that thing all weekend.”
“Would have stayed longer if me and Graham wouldn’t have had football camp that Monday.”
“Maybe. But it was starting to smell in there.” I scrunched my nose, and Reese laughed.
Already, my chest felt lighter. The pain that had been vibrating through it all day like a train through a tunnel finally receded, and for the first time that day, I could breathe.
This was what I loved most about Reese being back in town.
I didn’t know how it was possible, that he knew just what to say, just what to do to turn my entire day around. He’d done it that first dinner night at my parents’ house, and again that afternoon he’d given me the Tolstoy book, and yet again the night we went up the Incline. He just knew me, even though we’d been apart for so many years.
I didn’t understand it, but I loved it.
“That was before Graham decided he was too cool to hang out with his little sister anymore. He didn’t come out of that phase until we were both out of college,” I said.
“He loved you. But yeah, I guess it wasn’t really cool for anyone to hang out with their little sister once high school hit.”
I nodded, still smiling, thinking of nights that Reese hung out with me when Graham was off doing his own thing.
Graham had always been more of the party animal, and though Reese was his partner in crime, he would often slip out early on the nights when he didn’t have a potential girl hanging on his arm. I was almost always at Mallory’s on the weekends, and she went to sleep early so she could wake up for gymnastics practice.
I lost count of the nights I’d be sitting in a dimly lit corner of their kitchen with a snack and a book when Reese came home, and then we’d stay up late just talking.
I couldn’t lie — there were many nights when I stayed up past the time I was tired on purpose, just in case I could spend a couple hours with him.
“Do you ever talk to him anymore?” I asked after a moment. “Graham?”
Reese sighed, nodding his head toward his couch for us to both take a seat. He took the far-left side and I took the far-right, sitting with my legs crossed and angling toward him. Once we were settled, he took a long drink of wine before he answered the question.
“We kept in touch for a while when I first left, but just like you and I talked about that night at your parents’ house — life happened, you know? He was in college and so was I, we lived in different cities, and then he met Christina and they moved to Arizona before I moved back here.” He shrugged. “I called him that night after I left dinner with your family and we caught up for a while, but nothing crazy. He said he’ll come see me next time he’s in town.”
“Probably won’t be until the holidays. That’s the only time we ever count on seeing him.”
“Do you talk to him much?”
It was my turn to shrug. “Every other week or so, but sometimes we go longer. I did talk to him recently though…” My eyes found Jane, and I watched her sitting almost completely still in her cage, no song to sing that night. “Christina is pregnant.”
I couldn’t look at Reese then, but I knew his eyes were wide, his mind racing for what to say.
“How do you feel about that?”
My heart squeezed, and I lifted my glass to my lips, taking a small sip of wine as I thought on it.
It was the first time anyone had asked me.
Cameron had suggested we buy them a gift, and that’s just what he’d done. He even got the card. All I had to do was sign my name on it before he mailed it out. And Mom and Dad, they were too excited to ask how I felt — as they should be. They were finally going to be grandparents.
They should have already been.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I mean, obviously, I’m ecstatic. I’m so happy for Graham, and Christina, too. They’ll be amazing parents. And of course, I know Mom and Dad are thrilled. I can’t wait to be an aunt.” I paused. “And Cameron, he’ll be the best uncle.”
He would have been the best dad.
Reese eyed me for a moment, propping one arm over the back of the couch. “Okay. But how do you feel.”
“I told you, happy,” I said again, but when my eyes met his, I knew it wasn’t the truth.
He knew it, too.
I sighed. “And… heartbroken. It was supposed to be me, you know? I had been pregnant first. I should have five-year-old twin boys right now. Graham’s child should have older cousins.” I skated the rim of my wine glass with my index finger. “I should be a mom first, and an aunt second. But I’ll just be an aunt. Period.”
“You’re still a mom,” Reese said tenderly. “You always will be. And it’s okay to not only feel happy. It’s okay that you have real, tangible, painful feelings toward this. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“I feel like it does.”
“It doesn’t,” he said quickly. “Can I ask you something?”
I just looked at him in answer, waiting.
“Did you and Cameron ever… are you guys trying again?”
My throat tightened at the mention of him, and I shook my head, taking another, larger drink of wine. “New topic.”
He nodded, taking a sip of wine as I watched Jane swing sadly inside her cage. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I just don’t want to talk about that.”
The truth was that we hadn’t tried again, Cameron and I. We hadn’t even talked about the possibility. It wasn’t that we weren’t trying, either, but it had never been a conversation between us — not even when we’d become pregnant with the twins. It just happened.
Cameron didn’t like to talk about anything. He never did. Why would losing our sons change that?
Reese must have sensed my heartache, the cloud hanging over me, because he immediately launched into some stupid drama Sheldon and Sierra had gotten themselves into earlier that day.
I never kept up with any of the school gossip, but it was a distraction, and Reese kept the conversation moving easily from topic to topic as we refilled our glasses throughout the evening. We reminisced on old times, caught up on stories from college and the years since, made plans for the spring concert — we talked about any and everything other than what, or rather who, had made me cry all day.
I was thankful to Reese for that.
Somewhere around ten, we ended up at his piano.
He played the piece he’d been working on, a slow and heartbreaking melody in honor of his family. Watching as he settled in behind the piano brought back a flood of memories.
So many mornings I’d woken up at his house to the sound of him playing, tiptoeing my way into their dining room to spy on him. He always knew I was there, though — and he’d stop after a song or two and put the lid down on the piano, tapping it with his hand so I’d hop on top to listen.
Reese always put so much emotion into his music, so much heart — it was absolutely captivating to watch.
That hadn’t changed, I realized, as he began the first few notes of the new song. His e
yes were closed for most of the song, his fingers feeling along the keys, brows furrowed in a mixture of concentration and what felt like an insurmountable amount of pain. It was as if he’d taken on the task of writing the theme song for loss. It was so beautiful, so touching, and so real that I started crying again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered when he finished, his eyes finding mine from where I sat on top of his piano. I knew having the lid down would warp the sound a little, but I wanted to watch his face as he played — just like I used to.
“Don’t be.” I swiped the tears from my cheeks, laughing at my ridiculousness. “It’s just beautiful, that’s all. You’ve always had such a gift.”
Reese smiled, but shrugged modestly. “I’m nothing special, just another guy pouring his heart into music. More wine?”
“Please.”
I should have said no, seeing as how we’d already gone through one bottle and opened a second. But the wine was helping the ache in my chest, and Reese was making me smile.
I didn’t want either to stop.
I followed Reese into the kitchen this time, raiding his cabinets until I found a bag of pretzels. I popped one in my mouth as he poured another glass of wine for each of us.
“Want me to heat up those tacos? Are you hungry?”
I shook my head, tossing another pretzel in my mouth. “No, just wanted a little snack.”
“Are you tired?”
“Not even close. You?”
“No.” He took a sip of his wine, sliding my glass toward me. “Let’s make a fort.”
“What?”
“A fort. Like the one we made when we were kids. I’ve got a shit ton of sheets my old roommate sent with me.”
I laughed, shaking my head and opening my mouth to list off reasons why building a fort was an absolutely ludicrous idea. But then I realized I didn’t have one. Reese watched my wheels turn, a lazy grin on his face.
It reminded me of the last night we’d spent together at his old house, of the way he’d looked at me in those final hours of the going away party.
There was something behind his eyes, something unspoken that called to me in a way I couldn’t explain. We were like two magnets in a constant pull, fighting the urge to connect.
“We’re in our thirties,” I tried, but it only made Reese laugh at the sad attempt.
“Who cares? That only means we can fasten the sheets to higher places. Come on.”
Reese grabbed my hand not wrapped around my wine glass and pulled me back to the living room. I couldn’t protest, couldn’t do anything other than laugh and try to ignore the warmth that spread through me at the feel of his hand in mine.
He left me standing in the middle of his living room as he disappeared down the hall, and seconds later, he emerged with an arm full of mismatched sheets. He threw them at me, knocking a bit of my wine out of the glass as they fluttered open, and then he was gone again. This time, he returned with pillows from his bed and an old sleeping bag. He tossed those to my feet next.
“You made me spill my wine.”
“It’ll wash. Come on, grab a sheet. This fort won’t build itself.”
We laid down the sleeping bag and pillows in the middle of the floor first, building the fort up and around them. We spread the sheets from the top of the couch to the top of the TV, from the corner of his coffee table to one of the kitchen bar stools we’d pulled in, and from the top of his recliner chair to the mantle of the electric fireplace. Reese grabbed two standing lamps from his bedroom to hold up the middle section of sheets, creating a circus-type ceiling over the sleeping bag. Once it was complete, we grabbed our wine and crawled inside, both lying back with our sock-covered feet close to the fireplace, heads on the pillows, eyes on the sheets above.
I leaned up long enough to take a big gulp of wine before I sat it carefully to the side, lying down next to Reese again. I didn’t realize how tipsy I was until we’d leaned back the first time. The wine was buzzing low and warm in my stomach, mixing with the heat from the fireplace and lulling me into a comfortable stupor.
Reese’s home turned out to be the perfect escape.
“I love this,” I said, smiling and pressing a cold hand to my warm cheeks. I was flushed, but I didn’t mind.
“Makes you think of easier times, huh? Simpler days.”
“When the only thing that mattered was whether my Barbie dolls had enough shoes.”
“And what shirt to wear to Drew Castelberry’s party.”
I snorted. “You and Graham both always took forever to get dressed for parties. I remember Mallory and I making fun of you.”
“You were, like, eleven when I started going to parties,” Reese argued. “You didn’t understand the importance of spin the bottle yet.”
“In my defense, I still didn’t at sixteen.”
At that, Reese leaned up to take a drink of his wine, all the while shaking his head. “That literally makes no sense to me. I thought Graham would be kicking every guy’s ass in that high school trying to keep them off you.”
“You’re joking, right?” I rolled over to face him as he laid back down. “Do you not remember? Pig tails, glasses, fresh out of braces, nose always stuck in a book. Not exactly girlfriend material.”
Reese leaned up on one elbow to mirror me, his eyes low and glossy as they found mine. “Trust me, I remember.”
He said the words slowly and purposefully, like there was a hidden message underneath them meant for me to decipher. And suddenly, the energy in the fort changed. It was too warm. He was too close.
He was too familiar.
I pulled my hair from my neck, letting it fall behind my shoulders. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just looking at you.”
“No one else looks at me that way.”
He swallowed, but his gaze didn’t waver. His eyes flashed between mine, and when they fell to my lips, he ripped them away so fast I thought I imagined it.
“I’m sorry about your anniversary.”
A sickening wave rolled through me, and I shook my head. “It’s fine. It’s my fault, you know… I’m the reason he’s like this now.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, forgetful. Apathetic. He didn’t used to be like this.” I leaned up to finish off my wine, settling back down with my eyes on the sheets above us. I don’t think I realized I felt that way about Cameron until the second the words left my mouth. “He used to be romantic, and caring. He loved me so much, more than I loved him, I think. He was perfect.”
“No one is perfect.”
“He was.”
“And now it’s your fault he’s not anymore?” Reese asked.
I shrugged. “I failed him. I couldn’t carry our babies into a healthy birth, couldn’t give our children the strength to make it to life. Something changed after we lost them.” My chin quivered, but I blew out a breath to stop more tears from coming. “Something changed in both of us.”
“Charlie…” Reese breathed my name like the truth I’d given him in my words was poison to his system. “You can’t really believe that. It’s not your fault, what happened.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, blinking my eyes several times to clear the blur. “New topic. I don’t want to talk about this.”
He watched me for a long moment, and I glanced at him briefly before reiterating.
“Please. New topic.”
“New topic?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Do you ever think about me?”
My heart stopped, kicking back to life with enough force to hitch my breath. “What?”
“Do you ever think about me when we’re not together?”
I blinked, trying to think straight through the buzz of the wine. I wanted to lie. I wanted to laugh. But I couldn’t do anything but tell the truth with his eyes on me like that.
“Sometimes.”
Reese’s fingers walked their way over to me slowly, his eyes still locked on mine as they trav
eled up and over my knee, my thigh, hooking into the belt loop of my jeans. A chill broke through my body from the point of contact.
“Do you ever think about me?” I asked, voice barely a breath.
“Only every minute I’m not with you.”
“Reese…”
“That night before I left for New York,” he said, cutting me off. “I wanted to kiss you, Charlie. But I couldn’t.”
“Because I was too young?”
“Because I loved you.”
He said the words so effortlessly, like they wouldn’t knock the breath from my chest once they were said, like they wouldn’t change everything I thought I knew about my life — about us.
“Sometimes,” he continued, fingers pulling at where they were still hooked on my jeans. My body leaned into him automatically, my eyes searching his before they fell to the hollow point of his throat as he swallowed. “I don’t think I ever stopped.”
Time warped then, fourteen years surrounding us like a living, breathing energy in that fort. It sparked to life with his words, and when he tugged hard on my jeans, I traveled through that energy like a ship on the blackest of nights being guided only by instinct.
My eyes closed, my lips parted, and in the next instant, time stopped altogether with one simple, passionate, all-consuming kiss.
I felt his hand in my hair, the other still on my hip as he pressed me down into the sleeping bag with a roll of his body against mine. I gasped for air, capturing only one breath before Reese’s mouth was on mine again. His warm, wet lips savored mine, years and years of want pouring through every cell of his body straight into mine.
I whimpered at the feel of him, at the overwhelming need to be closer, to have more. I couldn’t breathe as he settled between my legs, his lips traveling down over my jaw, my neck, sucking the skin there before they made their way back up again.
When I finally opened my eyes, I only saw his emerald ones in return, glowing almost golden in hue by the light of the fireplace. He brushed my hair away from my face, fingers curling in the strands and tugging until my neck was exposed for him. He bit the tender flesh softly, sucking it sweetly in the next instant, and we both moaned when his hips rolled into mine.
Best Kept Secrets: The Complete Series Page 18
