“Everything okay?” she asks from the doorway of my office.
My eyes fly open and I cough. “Yes. Just … thinking deep thoughts.” Deep, penetrative thoughts.
“Okay,” she says, giving me a strange look.
At twenty to six, I leave work and walk over to the Kerryman, again feeling like the cool air will do me good. Every time I think of her, I get all hot beneath my clothes. And even though I snapped at my brother this morning, deep down I know he’s not wrong—I do have a temper, and it gets the better of me sometimes. I tend to let my emotions run roughshod over my rational thoughts. So a few deep breaths of crisp autumn air might be helpful.
When I arrive, she’s already there, sitting at the busy bar and nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. There are no empty seats near her.
“Hey,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder.
“Hey.” She turns and looks at me. Her smile seems tentative. “Sorry there isn’t another stool.”
“No problem. I can stand.” The bartender comes by, and I order a pint of Guinness. “How was your day?”
“Good.” She nods a little too enthusiastically. “Yours?”
“Good.” My beer arrives, and both of us take a sip of our drinks. “I was thinking we could talk about what happened last night … and this morning.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says quickly, dropping her eyes to the bar. “We need to forget it happened.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
When she doesn’t, I set down my beer and take her chin in my hand, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I will never forget last night, not in a million fucking years. It meant everything to me.”
“Reid, stop,” she whispers.
The rest of the room fades away. I’m standing close enough to smell her perfume. Our lips are only inches apart. Her eyes are saying things her mouth won’t.
God, I want to kiss her.
I want to feel her against me, hear her moans, drown in her eyes again as she watches me fuck her brains out.
What would she do if I crushed my lips to hers right now? If I took away her ability to argue with me? If I showed her, right here in this bar, with everybody watching, how much I want her?
I lean toward her, but she pushes me away.
“Don’t,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t handle it.”
“Can’t handle what?” I demand, grabbing my beer for a long pull.
Trying to compose herself, she runs her fingers through her long blond hair. “You’re too important to me, Reid. This friendship matters too much, and then there’s the fact that my job is kind of on the line.”
My head jerks back and I take a step back. “Your job?”
What does her job have to do with this?
“Yes. We need to find you a match so that I can prove to my mother I’m ready to take over the company. You’re not going to back out, are you?”
I can’t believe she actually thinks I want to go on another one of these dates after last night. For someone who knows me, right now she’s freaking clueless.
“What we did was not a mistake, and even if it was, I’d do it again,” I tell her.
“Don’t say that.” She looks around like she’s uncomfortable.
“I don’t care who hears me. I want you, Willow. I’m not going on any more meaningless dates with girls I have zero interest in.”
Her lips part and I see her trying to figure out what to say. “But … I need you to. I need to prove to everyone that I can do this. You’re not going to follow through now? Just because we had sex?”
“I’m not going to follow through because I have no interest in being matched.”
“You agreed to this. You said you’d at least try and give me six months.”
I know what I said, and I hate letting her down, but I don’t see how she can think this is a good idea. “How the hell is that even going to work? You don’t really want me to date anyone, either.”
“Yes, I do! I set you up!” She puts a hand on her chest. “I’m the one who put you on that date.”
The date she showed up to? Yeah, she’s really selling me on this. “Do you not remember you skulking in the plants to spy on my date?”
She sniffs. “I wasn’t skulking.”
“No? What do you call it?”
“Supervising. I was making sure that you didn’t screw it up. Which you did.”
I laugh once and take another long draw of my beer. This girl is delusional. “It had nothing to do with the fact that I kissed you right before the date?”
“I kissed you.”
“No, that’s not what happened, but let’s just pretend that your twisted version of that kiss is right ... why did you show up at my date, huh?”
We both know it had nothing to do with her supervising anything. After being in her body, I was also in her head. Just like she’s been in mine every damn waking moment since the night we almost kissed on her floor.
“I already told you. I was … overseeing things.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “And I’m calling bullshit. We both know you have feelings for me.”
“I do not!” She rises from her stool and straightens her back, giving me a clear shot down her blouse. What I wouldn’t give to rip it off her again.
“Well, that’s another thing I’m calling bullshit on.” I know I’m pushing her way too hard, but she’s driving me crazy. It’s one thing to deny she wants me like I know she does, but to try to set me up with someone else? It’s fucking sadistic!
“I don’t have feelings for you,” she snaps. “Not those kinds of feelings. But I do have a dinner date with someone I’d much rather be around right now.”
She tosses a twenty down on the bar and then starts to walk out.
Oh, no, we’re not done here.
I throw another ten bucks down, drain my beer, and head toward the door after her. “Willow! Stop!”
She halts on the sidewalk but doesn’t turn around. I move closer to her, waiting for her to look at me.
“What do you want, Reid?” There’s an edge to her voice that throws me.
My chest is to her back, and I bring my hands up to her shoulders. I wish we weren’t on the busy streets of Chicago. I would give anything to be in one of our apartments, where I could strip her down and feel her soft skin again. But more than anything, I need her to know how I feel—without getting angry about it.
“Why did you run away?” I ask, tempering my tone. “This morning.”
She shakes her head as I close my eyes, inhaling the light scent of lavender from her shampoo. “Why does it matter?” she asks.
Because you matter to me. “I want to know.”
Willow’s body is tense, as though she’s hanging onto the same fraying end of the rope I am. “It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
She turns slowly, her eyes lifting to meet mine. “We can’t do this. I won’t do this. You’re my best friend. You and I can’t date because we know exactly where it would end up. We’re nothing alike! And we’ve got problems, Reid—I hate that you’re a temperamental jackass, and you can’t stand my nagging. You have commitment issues, and I want a baby. What part of that sounds like a promising start?”
I find myself unable to argue back. Nothing she said is wrong. We’re not right for each other on paper. I’ll be the first to admit that, but then why does my heart refuse to agree? Because while there are probably a hundred good reasons to walk away, I can’t make myself do it.
I want her too much.
I want to see her all the fucking time—I wanted it even before we slept together. Can’t she see how good it could be?
“Can you honestly tell me that you don’t feel anything more than friendship?” I ask. “Can you look me in the eye and say that you feel nothing? Have you been able to think of anything else since that night I tackled you in your towel?”
Willow breathes in and out softly. Her lips part, but no
sound comes out. I know what that means.
She doesn’t want to lie to me. She feels the way I do, but she’s thought about it all too much and it’s freaking her out.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Reid, I have to go.”
“In a minute.” I place my hands on her shoulders again. “You said you wanted things to change. It was me who wanted them to stay the same.”
“I don’t want them to change like this.” Her lower lip trembles. “There’s too much at stake.”
I’m so frustrated with her I could scream. I’ve never been a sit-back-and-wait-it-out kind of guy, but I have a feeling that’s what I’m going to need to do. Pushing Willow is only going to make her retreat further. But I can’t resist moving in to press my lips to hers like I’ve wanted to since the minute I saw her. Only then do I pull back, letting her go. “I’ll see you soon, Wills. Enjoy your dinner.”
Then I walk away, hoping she’s standing there, still gaping at me.
Twelve
Willow
“He kissed you again?” Aspen asks as we sit at the table. “Jesus, what the hell is with him?” She pops another fry in her mouth while shaking her head.
“That’s what I want to know!” I go to grab one as well, but my stomach does another flip, reminding me I’m too anxious to eat.
Aspen, on the other hand, has had no issues eating both her dinner and mine. Which is hilarious since this wasn’t even supposed to be a real dinner. It was just me forcing my sister to meet me so I had a damn excuse to avoid him. And I figured we could spend a little time going over the other prospects we had for Reid.
I can’t tell if it’s the kiss or the mere thought of him dating one of these girls making me feel sick to my stomach.
Seeing him at the bar was not what I anticipated. I knew it would be awkward because all I kept picturing was him naked and on top of me. When he was standing close, I could smell his cologne, and I remembered how good it smelled mixed with his sweat. Which then took my mind to how good it felt when he touched me.
And then I was staring at him and wishing I could jump him, rip his clothes off in the bar’s bathroom, turn the memory into a reality.
Aspen snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Willow? You in there?”
I drop my head on the table. “Why is he in my damn head? Why is he doing this to me?”
“Because he has feelings for you. It’s clear that the planets are shifting in your favor. Once they line up, it’s going to be out of your hands. The Earth and her siblings are in control.”
I lift my head and glare at her. “I’m pretty sure it’s all in our control, but whatever.”
“Have you tried to prevent the gravitational pull of planets? It’s not possible, so neither you nor Reid will be able to stop it. You’re going to have to sit back and let this happen. Let your souls come together as two celestial bodies with an inevitable fate.”
Dear God. “I’m seriously wondering if you’re from this planet at all.”
She shrugs. “I’m just telling you how I see it.”
I need another drink. “I regret asking this already, but how exactly do you see it? Where do we end up?”
Aspen is weird, but at the same time, she’s got the gift like my mother. They’re much more intuitive about the concept of matchmaking. It’s a gut feeling they have when a couple is together. I’ve always thought it was crazy, but I can’t deny the results.
“You’re going to marry him,” she says imperiously.
I burst out laughing. “You’re insane! Reid isn’t going to marry anyone, ever, and I’m going to die alone, because once Mom sells the business I’ll be broke and unable to afford to have a baby!”
“That may be, Willow, but you truly love him and he truly loves you. That’s rare, and if he’s willing to look past your bad fashion sense and weird quirks, I’d go with it.”
“You think I have bad fashion sense? What exactly is it that you’re wearing right now?” I gesture across the table at her getup.
Today, my sister is wearing a “Jesus Won’t Save You” T-shirt with what appear to be plastic pants. Plastic. They’re sort of hard looking, but shiny at the same time. I’m pretty sure she melted water bottles and then molded them. Or maybe they were garbage bags once upon a time. Either way, I’m not brave enough to touch them.
“I’m a conservationist,” she says, as if that explains everything.
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Aspen rolls her eyes. “You can deflect all you want, but your stubborn denial is keeping the stars from aligning for you.”
“I thought it was planets?”
“It’s all part of the celestial universe, Willow,” she says with an air of mystery, wiggling her fingers in the air.
This is too much. “What about reality? What about the fact that he’s got a boatload of baggage and we have very different goals for the future? What about the fact that in all these years, Reid and I have never felt anything like this before?”
Aspen spins the straw in her drink. “Does any of that matter when it comes to love?”
I sigh and sit back. Why am I asking her about this? She’s never even been in love. Hell, I’m not sure Aspen has dated anyone in months because it’s really hard to find a man who is cool with a woman living in an Airstream without running water. “I don’t love him like that.”
She laughs. “Okay.”
“I don’t.” If I keep saying it, maybe I’ll believe it.
“Yep. I hear you.”
“I’m serious,” I say with more conviction.
“Uh huh.”
“Aspen.”
“Willow.”
Now I remember why I hated her as a kid. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”
“Okay. Then let’s find his next date like you wanted us to and see if you don’t lose your mind.”
I grab my wine glass and drain it. “Great. Perfect. Let’s work.”
We open up the book, and I really want to draw mustaches and horns on each one of the girls when I think about them with Reid.
Because I don’t love him like that, and I’m completely okay with him kissing them.
But I give the prettiest one a beard.
And a wart for good measure.
I sniff as I grab another tissue from the box, wiping my snot and tears. This TV show ... it’s killing me.
Those two characters love each other so much, and they can’t be together. Why? Because the guy is dumb, that’s why.
They’re all dumb.
Reid is dumb. It’s been three days and he hasn’t come over, called, snuck in and eaten my food—nothing.
I purposely made pot roast in the slow cooker yesterday, because I know that smell always fills the hallway. You can’t avoid it, and that man’s olfactory sense when it comes to food is off the charts.
I thought watching my shows would cheer me up, but instead it’s slowly breaking me. Reid is breaking me. Because the truth is ... I miss him.
I miss spending time with him, even when it’s just watching television. I miss him complaining that my shows are too sappy. I miss him listening to me bitch about my job when my mother is being overbearing and ridiculous. I want to cook for him, see him come over and enjoy my food.
Why won’t he? Can’t we get past this already?
Frustrated, I sit up straight and blow my nose one last time. This is silly. He’s my best friend, and whatever happened between us that night can’t take that away.
I hop off the couch and head out into the hallway. I’m standing in front of his door, not sure if I should knock or just go in, when it flies open.
“Willow?” Leo asks, stumbling back a little. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey, is ... umm ... is Reid here?”
He looks me over with a grin. “Did you forget something?”
“What?”
“Pants.”
I look down and my shirt is hanging over my shorts, giving the illusion I h
ave no pants on. Awesome.
“I have shorts on ... Leo, your brother? Is he here?”
“No, he’s not. He said he was going out for drinks.”
“Oh.” I sigh.
“He didn’t tell you?”
No, he didn’t tell me. But I lie to Leo. “You know, he mentioned something about it, it just slipped my mind.”
Leo chuckles. “Or you both are being idiots and still not talking . . .”
I’m not having this conversation. Leo is the last person who should be calling anyone names. Still, I’m surprised he knows anything and now I’m intrigued.
“Did Reid say something to you?”
He shrugs. “Just that you guys slept together and now you’re being weird.”
I slap a hand to my chest, furious. “He said I’m being weird? Like he’s not? He’s the one who’s ignoring me!”
“I agree, he’s being weird too. I mean, it’s like you two are basically married, but now that you’ve consummated it, you’re not sure what to do.”
“I’m sure I’d like to punch him in the throat,” I fume.
He smiles, as if he’d like to see that. “So go call him, or better yet, go see him. He’s at the bar next to his office. Go blow up his date.”
“Date?” My blood boils higher.
“Oh, I didn’t mention that he was having drinks with the new girl at his company?”
He’s on a date. He’s on a date with a girl I didn’t set up. He’s on a date with a girl I didn’t set up after he kissed me again.
I’m going to kill him.
I don’t say another word to Leo, because why bother? It’ll just delay Reid’s death and right now, that’s my single focus.
Kiss me and then go on a date?
I head into my apartment, toss on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. His office is just a few blocks from here and I know exactly what bar he’s at. Of course, it’s pouring rain, but I barely feel it. I’m so mad I practically stomp the whole way there.
When I arrive, I walk through the door and two guys look at me, half amused and half horrified. And then I stop to think about what I probably look like. Jesus. I literally rolled off the couch after a sobfest and marched down here through the rain in sweats. I’m a soggy, sorry mess.
Imperfect Match Page 9
