Page 48 of Older

Reed ran his fingers through mussed, disheveled hair. He let out a hard breath, glancing down at the floor and slamming his eyes shut.

Grinding my teeth, I watched as he gave his hair a squeeze then dropped his arm before swiveling toward Whitney, refusing to make eye contact with me.

He approached her with a nudge. “Hey. Whit.”

She mumbled something incoherent, her head popping up. “Huh?”

“You fell asleep. Tara’s upstairs, so I’m going to head out.”

A drowsy smile pulled at her cheeks as she reached for his wrist and yanked herself into a sitting position. Smoothing down her sleep-tossed hair, she offered, “You can stay the night if you want. I know it’s late.”

I grabbed the bowl of popcorn, dropped to my butt, and pretended to be lost in the movie while my heart plummeted to concrete.

Stay?

In her room?

“Crash on the couch,” Whitney added.

Relief swept through me, and I deflated.

“I should go. I have an early client.”

“That’s right. No problem.” She yawned, standing from the loveseat and stretching out her arms before sweeping past me with a kind smile. “Goodnight, Halley. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Goodnight.”

As she trudged up the staircase, Reed moved toward the entryway and slipped into his combat boots, the leather faded and worn. He caught my stare as he faltered by the front door, and his eyes glinted with something foreign. I didn’t know what shined back at me—conflict, loathing, anger. It was only a half a second. A drumbeat.

Whatever it was, it prickled a cold chill along the back of my neck that lasted far longer.

He yanked the door open and stalked out, slamming it shut behind him without a backward glance. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I collapsed down to the couch the moment he was out of sight and curled up into a little ball of despair.

I was pretty sure I knew what that look was.

Regret.

CHAPTER 9

March rolled into a springlike April, and Whitney had taken the day off work to celebrate the warmer weather by accompanying Tara and I to the mall.

Patches of ice and snow gave way to green grass.

The air was balmy.

The sun was bright and warm.

And it was just what I needed.

Schoolwork was weighing me down as my mind spiraled, my thoughts in constant disarray. Part of me never wanted to leave the house in case my mother called or came by to see me, but part of me wanted to run far, far away, because the house was constantly filled with Reed.

He’d been spending more time at the Stephens’ residence, stopping over for dinner once a week and occasionally picking Tara up for father-daughter bonding time. They had a monthly routine of Pizza Hut and a movie at the local theater. Tara had invited me the prior week when they went to go see Happy Gilmore, but I didn’t want to infringe on their quality time together. I wasn’t his daughter.

Fate had made it so I’d never be his anything.

And it was best if I gave myself space so I could batter my heart into submission while I tried to stomp out the invasive feelings trying to drag me down like quicksand.

Tara and I walked together, trailing behind Whitney as her hands curled around bags of department store purchases. I slurped a mocha Frappuccino through a wide straw, my eyes panning from window to window. Colorful clothing and knickknacks tempted me, reminding me that I didn’t have an income for such things.

---