Page 45 of I'm Yours

We both doctor up our coffee and I stare at him as he takes his first sip. It’s surreal. Sitting here drinking coffee with Reed. Back in high school he drank Red Bull and I drank Mountain Dew. But now we’re adults and even things like our choice of caffeine has changed. I laugh lightly, shaking my head and biting my bottom lip.

“What?”

I look closely at Reed. He hasn’t changed but at the same time, he has. His hair is still dark like it always was. A little shorter than the way he wore it in high school. He never had facial hair and his skin was clear of tattoos but he’s still Reed.

“Nothing. It’s just… this should be weird but it isn’t.”

“I know what you mean.”

“We’re grown ups,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

He throws his head back and laughs and I’m blessed by seeing the strong column of his neck.

“Do you work out like twenty-three hours a day?” I blurt out which makes him laugh harder. Then he does something that has me laughing, too. He bends his arm and flexes his bicep with a cheesy grin on his face he turns then points to the counter. “Oh my gosh, you did not just do that.”

“Hey, you were the one commenting on my muscles. I figured you were wanting a show.”

Shaking my head, I giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins.

Takes a sip of coffee.

Winks.

And then my ovaries explode.

Shit.

I’m so screwed.

“I blame Emmy. She brings out the kid in me.”

“Nah. You were always like this. You made me laugh all the time, remember?”

“I remember.”

“How does it feel living in Lakeside again?”

“Good. Like home, actually. I’d always planned to move home but the timing changed after Katherine died.”

“I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, no. Maybe another time?”

“Sure.”

“Since I’m pretty sure you already know a lot about me, how about you tell me about what you’ve been up to?”

Crap. Suddenly the coffee I’ve been drinking sits like lead in my stomach. I squirm in my seat, not wanting to discuss everything on my list but I know I need to.

“Well, I own my own dance studio now.”

His smirk tells me he knows I’m delaying. “I’ve heard.”

“And I teach pole dancing.”

“Also something I already knew.” He raises an eyebrow and sips his coffee. His tattooed hand stands out against the simple white cup he’s holding.

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