“Then get one. But I’m not moving into your tiny-ass studio.”
“It’s cozy,” he argued.
“And my apartment-less-ness is temporary. I’ll be home soon enough.”
With or without Vermont.
Queasiness roiled in my gut at the thought.
I had made the mistake of allowing optimism to work its way into my mind recently. I blamed Reid. He had this way about him that made me feel like everything would work out. Just being around the guy had been a pretty solid distraction as of late, but any time I stopped to think about my situation for even a second, dread descended. Because in reality, we weren’t any closer to finding answers.
I looked back at the message Reid had sent me. A picture of my ex in his natural habitat—the gym.
Could Paul really have done this to me? Part of me had slowly become convinced. Who else could it possibly be? But at the same time, I still found it hard to believe that he could stoop to such a level. Our breakup had pissed him off, though. I couldn’t deny that. Before he’d cut off contact, he used to alternate between being angry at me and begging me to take him back. His drunk dialing had been relentless, begging me to come to his apartment and talk things through.
If it was him, he hadn’t cracked yet, and we were running out of time. He’d said nothing about a cat to the fake profile Reid was using to message him. I knew where Paul lived, and it might be time to convince Reid to take a slightly more aggressive action.
“Do you have an extra comb?” Ruby asked. She stood above me, right behind Jackson.
I set the salad on my counter—my appetite was long gone, anyway—and pulled out a fresh comb from my drawer. “Here you go,” I said, handing it to her.
“Thanks.” She smiled and leaned to the side, jutting one hip out. “How have the past few days been?”
She didn’t have to be specific to make her line of questioning clear. She wasn’t asking how work had been, or about the state of my mental health (fragile, for anyone wondering). Nope. She was asking how it was staying with Reid.
“Oh, okay, I guess. I feel bad for invading his space, buthe’s seriously been so nice about it. Thank you for having such a kind brother,” I said, as if she had somehow had a hand in making him that way.
She laughed. “He’s always been like this. Saint Reid, we used to call him. Always been our parents’ favorite—although they try and deny it. He’s sweet and responsible, and easy to have in your life.”
Easy to have in your life.
That described Reid perfectly. Ever since I met him, I’d wanted him around. He made everything lighter.
Unfortunately, no one would ever use the wordseasy to have in your lifeto describe me. I was the opposite of easy. Challenging, my Gran used to say. Paul too, for that matter.
Heat rose to my cheeks. Was I weighing Reid down?
Of course I was, who the hell was I kidding. And he was far too nice to say anything about it. Was he counting down the minutes until our time together was over? What did I really bring to the table, aside from a laundry list of problems to solve?
“I think he’s having fun with you,” Ruby continued, oblivious to my spiraling. “It’s all he talks about lately. Or doesn’t talk about, I should say. You can always tell how happy Reid is by how much he ignores the family chats. If he’s ever too quick to respond in those, you know he’s having a rough time.”
“You think he’s having…fun?” I hated the hope rising in my voice. But I needed a little reassurance that I wasn’t the menace I thought I was.
“For sure. Hey, you should come by for family dinner this Friday.”
“I couldn’t intrude.” The thought of meeting the rest of Reid’s family made my heart hammer violently against my chest.
“Can I come?” Jackson asked.
Ruby ignored him and stayed focused on me. “I’m serious.It’d be fun. Plus, our whole family has heard about you by this point. They’d be really excited to meet you.”
I bit my tongue to keep from asking what, exactly, they’d heard. There was no way it could be all that flattering.
“Maybe,” I offered, fully planning on coming up with an excuse to bail later. I wasn’t about to crash Reid’s family dinner when he hadn’t even invited me himself. Not after I had already infiltrated every nook and cranny of the rest of his life.
Ruby gave me one last, seemingly genuine, smile and went back to her station and client.
“What, you don’t like them or something?” Jackson asked, once she was back at the front of the salon.
