Page 31 of The Rest is History

“Ain't no way he’s gonna last one day out here,” Brian says around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Wanna bet?” I ask.

He grins and holds out his hand. “You buy beer.”

“Bet.” I slap his hand.

“For the whole month.”

I slap his hand harder. “Fuckin’ bet, bitch, ’cos if he’s gettin’ hired I’ll be trainin’ him. Ain’t no one gonna be failin’ on my watch.”

“Well, go get your little green bean, then.” He angles his head to our left, where Reece is approaching us with a bunch of papers clutched in his hand.

I set down my insulated mug and rise from the stump I’ve been sitting on. I wish he wouldn’t be unsure of himself like that. I don’t know him, but I can see it all over his face and in the way he walks. If I had a face like that no one would be able to bring me down. I’d have so much confidence.

He’s interesting to watch. All that upper-class charm looks good on him. So polite and soft and well-spoken. Was he like that when Asher was inside him? Or was he different? A little wild, maybe.

Shut the fuck up. What?

My face heats up. Reece approaches, his eyes on me. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, like he’s trying not to smile, and failing. His eyes are bright. It makes him look like he hasn’t eaten chocolate cake in three years and someone just gave him a monster piece, and he’s trying to act like it’s no big deal.

Our eyes remain locked.

“I got the job,” he says in an understated tone that doesn’t match the sparkle in his eyes.

“Of course, you did.”

“Welcome to the team.” Brian brushes his dreadlocks away from his face and reaches over to swallow Reece’s hand in his enormous one. “I’m Brian Wendel. Currently presenting as straight, but there’s been some doubts recently. I’m workin’ on that. Thirty-two years of age. Involuntarily single.”

I roll my eyes.

Reece laughs and shakes Brian’s hand enthusiastically, pulling his lips into his mouth. Again, like he’s trying not to smile. “Reece Carter.”

“Hey, Imma go finish cleaning up the trailers,” Brian tells me. “Lookin’ forward t’all that beer.”

I shove him. “Get the fuck outta here.”

Brian laughs all the way to where the trucks are parked.

“You really thought I’d get it? The job?” Reece asks when it’s just the two of us again. I can’t answer him immediately because he’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and I’m caught in some fucked-up daydream where I’m watching Asher suck on that lip.

“Never doubted it for a second,” I reply good-naturedly, like I didn’t just—

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He lets himself smile more fully now, and when that smile on his lips meets the sparkle in his eyes, my breath stalls in my chest for a moment.

“It’s the first job I’ve ever gotten on my own. I was so nervous. I was sure I’d fuck it up.” His cheeks turn pink. Pretty. The warm color quickly spreads to the rest of his face and up to his ears. Maybe he didn’t mean to tell me that. It’s curious and warming to see how excited he is about it.

“Well, I think we should celebrate your first job you got on your own.”

His eyes widen. “What? No. It’s just a—it’s nothing to celebrate.”

I give him a look. “Are you kidding? It’s a pretty big deal.” I look around the woodlot. Most of the guys are scattered around, finishing up lunch. Deacon and some of the maintenance crew are the closest. “Yo, Deek. Come on over here with the boys.”

Reece grabs my forearm, and then drops his hand hastily when I turn my gaze to his and hold it there. “No, we don’t have to do that. Why would they care?”

Something touches me inside. I know from conversations with Asher that Reece is a bit of a loner. A little shy. But . . .

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