He waits patiently, and when I can finally bring myself to saysomething, I say the only thing that I know will help, but goes againsteverything I’m feeling right now: “This might sound weird…and if it does, justbail. Can you spend tonight with me?”
“Of course. I’ve spent plenty of nights with you.”
“No. Like I just need you to be there with me. I can’t promisethat I’m going to be normal or shit. Probably not going to even be able to havesex, but I think it would help me out. I’m sorry if I’m being evasive, but Ijust can’t talk about it, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there, Reese.”
“I can make like dinner or something. Not like a date. Just toeat.” Cooking and cleaning always are good distractions for me anyway.
“That’d be great,” he says.
His words soothe me, and even though I’m not sure how I’ll actaround another person, at least I won’t have to deal with it all alone. And atleast I’ll be there with someone who gets that I’m fucked up…who’s seen me whenit gets bad.
“No, like I’d really like that,” he continues. “A lot. It’s adate then.” He must see me tense up because he immediately says, “Whoa, thatwas a joke. Trying to get you to relax a bit. Sorry.”
“I’m just on edge. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. AndI can’t promise that I’ll be acting normal tonight. In fact, it might end upbeing the least sexy night we’ll ever share together.”
I notice I’m already suggesting there will be more nights. Hemust think I’m fucking desperate. Or that things are moving too quickly. God,this was a stupid idea, and I might just scare him off, but maybe if he comesover and sees me have a breakdown, he’ll leave. Maybe that’s what needs tohappen before we keep on going with this.
His smile broadens. “I appreciate you asking me over.”
“Good. Okay. Then you should probably grab some clothes fromyour place and come on over.”
He chuckles.
“What?”
“Nothing. Sorry. You’re making it sound awfully serious. We’vedone this enough that I know the routine.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “You’re right.”
“No, it’s cute. I’ll grab a few things and then come by.”
“Any allergies that I need to know about? Things you don’t liketo eat?”
“Pretty good in the allergy department. I’m not a big fan ofpasta.”
“No linguini then, I guess,” I tease.
He winks. “Meat’s always good. Big fan of bread, too.”
“Who isn’t?” I ask, feeling my tension subsiding.
“I guess I’ll see you tonight then.” He heads for the door, andas he reaches it, swings back around. “Reese,” he says. “I get that you justneed someone there. I know it’s not like a datey thing. So don’t stress. I’mnot going to get the wrong idea or anything.”
He says that as though that was my biggest concern, which it’sreally not.
Losing my fucking mind is.
But I feel better knowing he’ll be there. At least I can haveone thing in my life that has helped make me feel like I’m not a mess. Someonewho has made me feel like I’m hot and a good lay.
Like a man.
17
Jay
While I grab my things from Charlie’s place, I dwell on Reese’sserious expression as he walked around the factory, looking like someone closeto him had just died. I’ve been on edge on his behalf the past two days atwork, terrified that something—some sound, some stray thought—would catch himoff guard and send him into one of his panic attacks. I didn’t want him to bein a place where I wouldn’t be able to protect him. Keep anyone else fromdiscovering his secret.
