About an hour after we arrive, Bryan finishes the last of his one and only beer. “I’m out, guys.” He slides his stool forward. “I’m going to catch a ride with Todd. I’ve got class in the morning and so does Melanie. I’ll see you next weekend, yeah?”
“Sure thing, man. Great job today,” Dylan calls out over his shoulder without really taking his eyes off the screen above the bar.
The bar erupts into loud screams and cheers as the playoff game ends in a walk-off homerun. Dylan orders another drink, and when the volume level returns to normal, he clears his throat.
“So, I got a call in the office on Friday.” The quiet and unsure quality of his voice immediately sets me on edge. I twist in my seat to face him and silently prompt him to continue.
“It was on the support line and the caller didn’t give a name, but I swear I knew who it was.” He takes a swig of his beer as he seems to mentally flip through the hundreds of students we’ve met since the school year started in September.
“Dylan, there’s no way you could know. We visit at least two schools a week and it’s been what, like five weeks now since we started our fall assemblies?”
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he puffs out a deep, frustrated breath. “Yeah, I know. But when I heard her voice on the line, it just sounded so familiar. She was so sad. I could hear her pain. I could tell she was crying, but before I could get her to say much of anything, she hung up.”
“Maybe it’ll come to you.” I finish off the last of my beer and slide my glass over to the bartender.
Dylan’s eyebrows are furrowed together and he looks like he’s scanning the bar top to try and read something written there in invisible ink. “I think . . . I mean, I could be making this up, but I think before she said she was an anonymous caller, it sounded like her name was on the tip of her tongue.”
“Did she say anything else that would give you some kind of clue? A friend’s name or something like that?”
I can tell he’s mentally replaying the conversation, so when the light bulb goes off over his head, I grin and wait for him to share.
“She said ‘Cane would kill me if he knew I was calling.’ After that, I couldn’t make out anything because she was sobbing so badly. Then, the line went dead.”
“Cane? You sure?” I need to double check, make sure my ears aren’t playing tricks on me.
“Yeah, I’m certain because I remember thinking I wish she’d give me her name too so that I could put it all together and go help her out some more.”
“There was a kid in my group last week at Lincoln Memorial whose name was Cane. It can’t be all that common of a name, can it?” I clearly remember the kid too. Tall and skinny, dressed in a punk-rock inspired wardrobe from head to toe. He stayed after the assembly when I held a voluntary group session. Kids rarely open up much during those, but not Cane. He was angry and clearly hurting. I did my best to try to talk him through his pain, to get him to open up, but when he saw the other kids sitting there wide-eyed and shocked, he shut his mouth and practically stormed out of the room.
“Why don’t we talk to everyone who helps with the support line to keep their eyes out for the number that called on Friday, or anything within the same area code? If any of the callers mention anything about Lincoln Memorial, then maybe we can get in touch with the principal and go back into the school.” I offer up a lame smile hoping that it will help calm his racing brain, but I know it won’t. Dylan cares about the kids we meet more than anyone I know. He really takes their issues to heart.
“Yeah, man. Sounds good.” He stands and throws a twenty down on the bar. We walk out to his car, and for the ten minute drive to my apartment, there’s an uneasy silence settling around us. I unclip my seatbelt. “Don’t worry, okay. We’ll figure something out.” He nods but stares out the windshield, a distracted look plastered to his face. After I close the door, I pop my head back through the window. “See you tomorrow.” My words almost startle him and he looks over at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time since we left the bar.
I stand in the parking lot and watch him pull away. I don’t want to imagine the thoughts going through his head right now. I’m sure they’re about Shane. For a guy who seems to have it all together most days, he’s still reeling inside. I can’t force him to open up, though. The best I can do is wait for him to want to talk.
Maybe someday.
Chapter 5
I swear I only hear every other word out of my professor’s mouth. Presidents and Senators. Executive and legislative branches. I have busted my ass to get to where I am, and if I didn’t need this politics course in order to graduate from my two-year program in the spring, well, then I would so be dropping it.
“Any questions?” he calls out dryly and he wipes his chalk-covered hands down the front of his dark brown corduroys.
Please, nobody have a question. Pretty please. I just want to go home.
Thankfully, no one asks anything. When he says, “Class dismissed,” the only noise that fills the room is the sound of everyone closing up their textbooks and packing up their backpacks.
Class is over at 8:30 pm, so as long as I walk out with a group of people, I feel safe trekking through the rather poorly lit parking lot. Christina, the quiet and mousy girl who sits next to me, walks with me to my car. “I’m only a few down.” She angles her head down the line of parked cars where her lights flash and her alarm chirps. “I’ll get coffee next week. Large, hazelnut, with skim milk, right?” Her eyes squint together as she recalls my order from the last time she bought the coffee.
“Perfect. Thanks, Chrissy.” She walks toward her car and waves. “See you next week.”
I don’t particularly like having to take night classes, but since I have to work during the day time, there really isn’t much choice. I’ve taken every weekend and off-session class that the local school offers. I decided early on I wanted to double major in business and early childhood development. I eventually want to run my own day care center, and with each class I cross off my list, the more excited I grow at the possibilities that wait for me.
The drive back home passes in a blur. In short, Fridays suck. Nothing screams get me the freak home like an eight-hour workday, followed by a three-hour class that you didn’t want to take in the first place. Yeah, that about sums up my day. So as the gate to my complex comes into view, it’s almost as if I can feel the weight of the day—and the week for that matter—lifting from my shoulders.
I never really thought of it until we moved in here together, but I can’t even begin to tell you how important it is to come home to a turned-on porch light. The dim light from the front window, adding to the soft glow of the flickering porch light, lets me know that Reid is waiting up for me, as usual.
“Hey, hun,” I call out from the front door. “The baby asleep already?”
Reid peeks around the corner of the kitchen into the living room. With a rather mischievous grin on his face, he winks at me. “Nope.” His face disappears behind the corner again.
Okay, cryptic much.
Stepping into the kitchen and dining room combo, I now understand what the goofy smile was all about. He’s got a romantic, candle-lit dinner for two all set up. Unable to hide the shock in my voice, or on my face, Reid just laughs at me as he hands me a glass of wine.
“You cooked?”
He kisses my cheek quickly. “Don’t sound so surprised. It’d be more impressive if you cooked.” He pulls a face at me and I roll my eyes—our usual M.O. for mocking one another. “But, no I didn’t cook, this time. I dropped Braden off at Momma’s for a sleepover and she cooked. I did at least plan the night, so do I get some credit for that?”
I lean my head on his shoulder as he pulls me to his side. “Of course you do, babe. This is perfect.” He kisses the top of my head and then moves to pull out a chair for me.
“Here, sit.” As he busies himself with finishing our plates, I enjoy my glass of wine and let the day melt away. Seriously,
nothing can beat a quiet, home-cooked meal with my man at the end of a crazy-ass week. Watching him move around the kitchen with such finesse and grace isn’t so bad either.
He puts my plate in front of me and slides into the seat at my side. “So, how was your day?” Reid asks as he digs into the crust of Momma’s world famous chicken potpie. Okay, fine. It’s not world famous, but it’s damn good.
“It was okay.” I tell him about the updates to the computer system at work and how they’re really not all bad, despite how much some people are still bitching about them. I seriously think that some people just enjoy complaining. “And then class was . . . umm, let’s go with mind-numbingly boring.” We share a laugh over it. He knows that politics is my least favorite class ever.
Speaking around a mouthful of food, I ask him about his day. There’s an awkward pause for a second as he puts down his fork and wipes his mouth with his napkin. “I guess you could say it was interesting.” His tone has me a bit wary. Interesting in his line of work could range from a high school girl hitting on him—don’t laugh; it’s happened before—to a scared and lonely teenager doing harm to himself. The concerned look on his face, as he scrubs his hand over his stubbled jawline, tells me that it’s the latter that’s bothering him.
I put my hand on top of his and lightly stroke my thumb over his wrist. “What happened? Was it about the call you and Dylan have been working on?”
“Yeah, we got another call from the girl this morning. She mentioned the same name as the last call—Cane. But, she wouldn’t identify herself. We called the school and set up a meeting with the principal this afternoon to see if he might know who would be calling or why someone would mention Cane’s name.”
“Did he tell you anything? I mean, does the principal know who the girl is who keeps calling?”
“He didn’t say anything, but I got the feeling he was hiding something.” Reid takes a chug of his water before adding, “Dylan thinks the same thing. We just can’t figure out what it is he’s not telling us. Even when we asked the principal if the kid had any close female friends who would know him enough to call in about him, he just shrugged his shoulder. Turns out Cane is kind of a loner. The principal says he rarely sees him with anyone, actually.”
“I’m sorry, Reid. I wish you could have found out at least something. Maybe the girl will call back,” I add hopefully, as he stands to clear the table.
“On the one hand, I hope she does. I want to figure out who she is, but on the other hand, I hope that things—whatever things are going on that she can’t talk about yet—don’t get so bad that she has to continue calling.” Though he shrugs his shoulders, I know he’s got anything but “whatever” feelings about it.
I watch him as he stands in front of the sink cleaning the few dishes that we dirtied. Watching the flex and pull of his broad shoulders under the thin cotton of his t-shirt, makes my insides go warm. I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his narrow waist. Hooking my thumbs into the belt-loops of his jeans, I press my cheek up against the solid warmth of his back.
Trying to lighten the mood, I laugh as I ask, “So you didn’t get asked to prom this time, huh?” I feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles. Some overly flirty senior actually did ask him to prom this past June when he was at her school for an end-of-the-year workshop. He tried to let her down easy; not wanting to assault her ego; he said he was happily married. She openly scoffed his rejection by popping her hip and squeezing her boobs together as she told him that it was his loss. “Nah, no prom dates. A few whistles and stares though.” He laughs some more and he turns and pulls me to his chest.
I poke him playfully in the ribs. “Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t want you to think you were losing your touch or anything like that.”
“First of all, they’re high school girls, so um thanks but no thanks. And most importantly,” he gently brushes his lips across mine in a move so sensual that I can’t help but press my body into his, “I’ve already got the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I let my hands roam across his back, before not-so-gently, grasping his perfect ass. With lips quirked in a seductive smile, I squeeze him once more to punctuate my words. “Damn straight you do. Now, take me to bed.”
Without warning, he bends down and tucks his arm under my knees. I loop my arms around his neck gasping in surprise. “With pleasure, my love,” he mumbles against my neck as he whisks me down the hall into our room.
After gently placing my feet on the floor, he stares intently into my eyes. He speaks no words, but his face could recite poetry. Thumbs softly brush across my cheekbones while he cups my jawline with such tenderness that leaning into his touch is instinctual. Without breaking his intense stare, he glides my top over my head. With quick fingers, my bra is unclasped and dangling before me. My skin chills in the cool air and my nipples pebble under the lusty look in Reid’s eyes.
When I reach for him—to rip his shirt off, to push his jeans to the floor—he cages my small wrist in his strong grasp. “Shhh. Wait,” he hushes as he finishes undressing me. I kick my jeans to the side and watch in utter amazement as he pulls his T-shirt up from behind. His body is my weakness; I tremble at the mere sight of his muscles rippling and flexing with his deliberate movements. In one swift move, he strips himself of his jeans and boxers. My mouth waters ravenously. My pulse races quickly. My insides tighten deliciously.
Reid takes me by surprise when he picks me up once more. Afraid to lose my balance, I wrap my legs around his waist. His deep blue eyes are burning with passion. I lean forward to kiss him needing to feel his lips against mine. I’m more than a little angry when he pulls back and shakes his head. “I want to take my time with you, go slow. There’s no rush. I’m going to kiss every inch of your body. Run my tongue along every line and curve. I’m going to bring you to the edge of your control, just to ease you back. Drive you crazy.” He plants a heated kiss to each corner of my mouth before pressing his full lips flush against mine. He licks, nips and tugs on my lower lip. When his tongue slides into my mouth, I lose hold on my control. I kiss him back with as much passion and love as I can muster.
Our mingled breath is hot and heavy. His exhales become my inhales. As if we weren’t already, we become even more entwined with one another. He overwhelms every single one of my senses. His purely masculine scent—clean and earthy with just a hint of soap and cologne; his uniquely Reid taste—lust mixed with desire pushes me over the edge. The feel of his muscles bunching under my fingertips spurs on my desire to run my hands over every single centimeter of flawless male beauty holding me up.
As if he can tell that I need more of him, he lowers us to the bed. The feel of his erection pressing firmly into my stomach makes me crave him even more. I arch my back and press my hips up into his, searching for some kind of release from the beautiful torment his lips and tongue are unleashing on my breasts. As he wraps his mouth around my hardened nipple, a low moan escapes from mine. Lacing my fingers through his silky hair, I hold his head in place. He alternates between hard sucks and gentle nips until my sensitive skin is on fire. “Reid . . . please . . .”
“I know, baby. I know.” He swipes his thumb across my lower lip and I lick it seductively. His eyes widen as I wrap my fingers around his wrist. Pulling his finger into my mouth, I suck and lick. Grazing my teeth over it forces a hiss of air to pass through his lips. I push his hand away from my face down to where I want it to go.
“Use your hands, please. I need to feel you touch me.” The erotic groan of my words is accentuated by the rhythmic gyrating of my hips. Reid grips my hip with one hand, stilling my movements. His other hand hovers about my mound and I’m arching, stretching, reaching for him to touch me. But, the further I reach, the harder he holds me in place.
“Stay still, Maddy,” he commands in his sexy-as-fuck voice that I’ll never be able to ignore.
I relax back into the mattress and he releases my hip. Using the same finger that was just in my mouth, he traces a
feather-light path right down the center of my wet and glistening pussy. Back and forth, back and forth. Stoking the flame that he’s ignited, he’s touching me everywhere but where I want him. Slow, methodical, torturous, but oh-so incredible. I close my eyes and just enjoy the feel of his fingers gliding over me.
The bed shifts as he settles in between my legs. I feel his hot breath on my thighs right before he trails soft kisses along my sensitive skin. His tongue replaces his fingers and continues along the same hot path. “Fuck, Maddy. You’re drenched.” He laps at my core and presses his lips briefly to my clit. “God, you taste fucking amazing.” His sounds of appreciation are lost as his mouth fuses to my body. His fingers plunge into me, rubbing deep inside. Every fiber of my body belongs to him, and with a few rapid flicks of his tongue, perfectly timed with a tweaked nipple, I crash and burn beautifully under the pleasure that only Reid can deliver.
“Watching you writhe on the bed, tasting you come in my mouth, is simply the most beautiful thing in the world.” He hovers above me, his lips glistening with my orgasm. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his face to mine. Plunging my tongue into his mouth makes his cock twitch in between us. A gasp of pleasure passes between us when I feel a drop of his moisture drip onto my skin.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I grab his ass and pull him as close to me as possible. The tip of his cock nudges at my entrance and I press forward wanting him inside of me already. He gives me an inch, but it’s not enough. “More. Now. Please.” My breathless words are offered up like a prayer.
“No.” He leans his elbows down and places one on each side of my head, supporting his weight. “I told you. I want to go slow and savor you.” He chews on his lower lip and I can tell that he’s having a hard time holding back. But the fiery look in his ocean blue eyes forces me to submit to his pace.
The Love Series Complete Box Set Page 78
