Except.
“Your couch is awful,” I say, sitting up and wriggling my butt against it. “It’s like sitting on pizza boxes.”
He laughs softly, clearly surprised at the change in topic. “It came with the place.”
“Ew.” I dramatically hold out my arms so my skin is no longer touching it and wonder idly if someone in this building has a blacklight we can borrow.
He reaches out, gently rubs his thumb across my cheek. “It was new. This is a furnished rental.”
Oh.
It’s another one of those reminders for me, the ones I’ve been trying so hard to take to heart about Reid’s impermanence here. Thetoo soon-nessof this whole evening reasserts itself. It’llalwaysbe too soon with me and Reid, because Reid is leaving.
I drop my arms, hoping the motion hides my sigh. Suddenly, coming to this apartment feels like as bad of an idea as staying in my own. I open my mouth to say something—maybe a casualLet’s go get a sandwich and walk and pretend this never happened—but Reid interrupts me.
“Do you want to go for a drive tomorrow?”
I blink at him.
A drive.
How could he possibly know?
“We could get out of the city,” he says, a note of caution in his voice. “For some fresh air. Distance, you know?”
“Yes, I knowexactly.” At the very thought of it—wind in my hair, buildings and trees streaking past the windows, a break from everything here—I feel lighter already. I almost bounce on this pizza box couch.
“Where would we go?
Reid clears his throat, shifts as if he also hates this couch. “I’ve been meaning to get down to Maryland before—well, I haven’t been in a while. It’s a short trip, under three hours if we leave early enough.”
“Oh. To meet your family?”
“We could—that is, I could say you’re a friend from the city.” When I don’t answer right away, he stands, gathering the teacup from the table. “It’s too soon, I’m sure.”
“Reid.” I still him with a hand on the outside of his thigh, the closest place to him I can reach from where I sit. He looks down at me, that faint flush on his cheekbones.Too soon, he’d said, his mind a mirror of my own.
The loop around my heart squeezes, a warning and a warming all at once. This is no way to protect myself, probably, crossing another threshold of closeness with Reid. Leaving the safe haven of the city, the only place we’ve ever known each other. Seeing him with the people who made him who he is.
But tonight, he held me while I cried. He listened to me talk about my falling-apart friendship and my fallen-apart family. He knew exactly what I needed. He protected me.
“I’d like to go,” I say.
His eyes light—same as the blue sky outside your windshield on a clear day.
“You’re sure?”
“Oh, yeah. A drive like that? Think of the games we could play.”
His mouth pulls to the side, that funny concentration face he has. “License plates. Highway signs. Billboards.”
I shrug casually, standing up and taking the teacup from his hands. I take a sip of its now-cool, bottom-of-a-flowerpot taste, and wince dramatically just to hear Reid laugh quietly again.
I press up on my tiptoes and kiss him, reaching up a hand to touch his sandpapery, long-day-on-the-job cheek, and he immediately pulls me closer. When I pull my mouth away from his, I move so I can whisper in his ear.
“Sounds to me like it’s right on time.”
Chapter 16
