Take a look around, Lila. What could it hurt?
And you should be ashamed of yourself for suggesting something so dishonorable.Gasp. Snooping? Me?
I will do no such thing, no matter how insistent you are. Do youreallythink I’d stoop that low? I’m offended.
Ha ha ha ha.
Of courseI’m gonna snoop. After all, I’m the same gal who grabbed his junk as a distraction to swipe his keys. There’s no chance of me wasting the opportunity for a glimpse inside Reed’s psyche.
If he had something to hide, he wouldn’t have brought me here, right?
I’m barely alone for three minutes before I start poking around. Bopping down the hall, I peek into his bedroom. When no booby traps are set off, I ease inside on my tiptoes.
Not sure why I’m attempting to be stealthy. My body must assume that if I’m silent, nobody will ever know I was here.Seems logical, if not delusional.
My first impression of Reed’s bedroom is precisely what I expected. Turns out thatAdult Reedis just as obsessively tidy asTeenage Reed.
His bedding is a crisp shade of silver with black trim along the edges. The queen bed is immaculately made with five-star hotel precision. Four pillows, fluffed perfectly, devoid of wrinkles, and arranged symmetrically. The only thing missing is a little mint. I bet it’ll be there later. Surely, he has turndown service.
Considering the average room size, a queen makes more sense than a king. That’s practical Reed for you.
AndifI ever happen to sleep here, I’d have no choice but to stay close to him all night. The bed size would be to blame. No harm, no foul.
There’s a lovely scent in the air. I pad from one side of the room to the other, led by my nosy nose.
His side table and dresser are made from distressed wood with a charcoal finish. Black hardware on the drawers. Not a single thing on the top of the dresser other than the mirror and a baby blue candle without a lid. There’s no label on it, so I take a whiff. My eyes roll to the back of my head.
Mmm. Coconut oil and pineapple with a hint of sunscreen. The perfect beachy Florida scent.
My fingernails tap rhythmically on the hardwood as I eye the drawers with bated breath.
Should I have a little peek?
Nah. That’s crossing a line. It’s one thing to look at what’s visible in his room but another to go digging.
Besides, I wouldn’t like him rooting around my drawers if the tables were turned. Like most women, what’s in my bedside table is between me and the Lord.
Kenzie and I vowed that if one of us dies unexpectedly, the other will empty out their bedside drawer and delete their Kindle history. Some secrets you take to the grave.
Huh. I wonder if I can still trust Kenzie to keep her vow in light of what I learned about her today?
Doubtful.
Nonetheless, I won’t be looking inside Reed’s drawers.
I won’t.
I’m better than that.
Then again, he could have locked the bedroom door if he was concerned about privacy. Or brought me somewhere else instead of his sanctuary.
I’ve mastered the fine art of lying to myself like the Renaissance artists mastered painting naked ladies. Just call me theMichelangelo of Delusion.
It takes all my willpower, but I eventually resist the temptation to open the drawers.
After a mental pat on the back, I sweep my gaze back toward the bed. I nibble my lip as I envision what Reed must look like when he wakes up in this bed. Hair a mess, sleepy eyes, and a bare chest exposing his tattoos. I wonder if he sleeps in the nude. Since it’s my fantasy, I’ll assume so.
His comforter looks mega plush, beckoning me closer. I need to see if it’s as soft as it looks.
