Reese used the room created when Sydney had moved back to shift sideways, creating even more space between them.
“Right, makes sense,” Reese said before glancing around thefitting room, no longer meeting Sydney’s eyes. “Are you ready to head out front? We have the rest of what I’m sure will be an eventful day ahead of us—a guarantee if the Devereuxs are involved.”
Sydney extended her arm. “Lead the way.”
As she trailed behind Reese out of the fitting room, she wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake.
The rest of the day had been weird. It was the only way Sydney could describe it.
When they’d returned from the dress fitting, Tripp was nowhere to be found. He’d made up a flimsy excuse to Stan about an urgent issue with one of the properties, stating that it would be better if he went personally instead of sending Grant. He’d added that he wanted to make sure his son was able to enjoy his weekend with his fiancée’s family, which is how Sydney had definitely known that he was lying.
She hadn’t seen a single, altruistic deed from Tripp Devereux since she’d met him.
Interestingly enough, the facts of the story had all been relayed by Stan with gusto as he’d manned the grill, willing to replay the events in what she assumed was almost word-for-word detail. She loved a man who knew the power of good gossip, but she also sensed that he hadn’t quite believed the story either.
Reese, to her credit, had seemed relieved, and the remaining group had all gone on to have a relatively enjoyable evening, which was, in Sydney’s opinion, the weirdest part of the whole situation.
Sharon had opened up by dessert, discussing with Margie their respective philanthropic endeavors and laughing like old friends once the first bottle of wine they’d been sharing was empty.
As they’d all said good night in the living room, where Sydney,Reese, and Stan had just finished performing a three-person massacre when they’d been teamed up in charades, Sydney was finding it difficult to remember a more enjoyable night in recent memory.
Sure, Grant was in attendance, but he’d mostly sulked in the corner, sitting on his phone and making the uneven teams irrelevant.
She followed Reese upstairs as Margie and Sharon settled in with another bottle of wine on the sofa. Stan had headed to bed, and Grant and Brynn had already disappeared, though she didn’t much care where.
It wasn’t until they reached the landing that Sydney’s trepidation flared up, her footsteps leading her closer and closer to the bedroom where she and Reese would be sleeping tonight.
First and foremost, she needed to apologize to Reese for whatever had happened earlier today.
The desire she’d felt had been all-consuming, swirling around in her body and propelling her forward before she’d understood what was happening. It wasn’t like she’d never seen an attractive person before.
But Reese had been so unguarded and playful, and Sydney had gotten caught up in the moment.
She was still thinking about how she’d apologize when the door clicked closed behind her, something she’d apparently done when she felt the cold metal beneath her fingertips.
“I was going to get ready for bed,” Reese said, already digging around in her weekend bag on top of the comforter. “Did you need to get into the en suite?”
“I’m sorry,” Sydney said before she lost her nerve. She stepped over to the side of the bed where she’d be sleeping, plunging her hands into her bag to stop them from shaking. Or to, at least, stop Reese from seeing it.
“Sorry?” Reese repeated, her brows furrowing. “For what? I agreed with you that it was my fault during charades for notrealizing when you stretched your arms out and pretended to fly that the answer wasTitanic.”
Exasperated, Sydney let out a strangled sound.
Why was this so hard? Maybe because she felt like an idiot, getting carried away like she had.
Sydney stood up to her full height and willed herself to continue. “I’m sorry about earlier today. In the fitting room.”
Reese’s eyebrow drew upward, and a look that Sydney couldn’t decipher passed across her features. “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Reese said matter-of-factly.
“I know that this situation is already complicated enough, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with anything I did.” There. That was a passable apology, even if Sydney’s insides wobbled like jelly while she waited for Reese’s response.
Reese zipped up her bag and placed it on the floor before she started walking toward the bathroom. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, but you were probably right to stop things before they went too far.”
Sydney clocked the ‘probably,’ her heart skittering as she wondered if there was a part of Reese that had wanted them to keep going.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on that. Damage control was the name of the game. “So we’re okay?”
At the doorway, Reese turned around, giving Sydney an appraising stare. “Yes, Sydney. I promise, we’re okay.”
