Page 105 of Bring You Back

Reyna snickers, the two of us now so engrossed we can’t look away. I even shift my entire body toward the screen.

“It’s not gonna be it,” Julian repeats Banks’s earlier confident denial.

“Oh, it’s gonna be it,” Banks states, way too excited at the prospect of Julian making out with Naomi.

“Finally,” Julian hollers with relief at the same time Banks jumps up with a wild laugh, his arms raised in victory.

“Dude, you have to make out with your mom!”

I roll my eyes again, shifting back to Reyna. My semi-amusement fades as I meet her serious stare, hear her whispered, “I need to talk to you.”

“About what?” I whisper back, aware of the mocking in my voice after the fact. But she doesn’t seem to catch it, because her eyes widen in a knowing stare.

My gut now tells me she wants to finally discuss the dark-haired elephant, and my mouth isn’t sure what to say.

I chance a quick glance at Julian who is preoccupied with shoving Banks’s shaking ass from his face again, then step away from the island, away from Reyna a moment to retrieve the camera Naomi let me borrow from where I left it on the table beside the door.

I take a breath, and eye Reyna with a nod toward the hall. She shuts her sketchbook and follows me, Julian behind our backs telling Banks with a laugh how disgusting he is.

We round the corner to the guest room and Grumbles’s head pops up from her corner. Reyna swipes the camera from my hand. Always ready for a spotlight. “How do you turn this on?” she asks, fiddling with the buttons to no avail. I ignore the question as I move farther into the room, and she asks another. “What do you need this for?”

I stop at the chest of drawers, and turn at the pure curiosity in her voice, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she increases her efforts to turn the damn camera on. Her tongue peeks out from between her lips like it does when she paints. “ASMR,” I tell her, expecting a blank look at my answer.

“Oh, I’ve seen some of those,” she says with a pause, her face scrunched in my direction. Color me shocked. “It’s not really my thing. But I can see how you might like it.” She shadows the gibe with a smile, and I chuckle.

It helps me sleep.

It relaxes me.

Things that are there on my tongue, but don’t reach the air. I don’t need to see or hear more of Reyna’s distaste.It’s not really her thing.

“Ah!” she squeals in victory as the camera lights up, popping out the side screen. She turns the lens to her face and puts on a sultry smile, voice to match. “Hey, guys. Welcome back to ASMR … in my bedroom.” She shoots a wink to my cocked brow before continuing. “Tonight, I have some brand new toys for us to play with—”

My laughter cuts her off, and I start toward her. “First of all, you didn’t pressrecord. Second”—I swipe the camera from her hands—“it’s not porn.”

“I didn’t sound likeporn,” she protests through a grin. “And hey, some of them do,” she adds at my back as I take the camera to the drawers. She plops on the foot of the bed with a sigh. “Are you just using that camera? Because it might not work. The really popular ones have a lot of fancy equipment.”

I run my fingers over the side screen before pushing it back in. Leave it to Reyna to assume my new endeavor is about reaching popularity.

I face her, my ass pressed against a top drawer, arms crossed—a contrast to her easy breezy recline against her palms. “I’m just trying it,” I say, hearing the defense in my voice. “If I like it, I’ll advance tofancy equipment.”

Her neck cranes, eyes trying to locate the objects I plan to use for triggers, I’m sure. It’s too bad they’re hidden in the drawer behind my ass. “Well, what are you using first?”

“What is this, Twenty Questions? I thought we were here to talk aboutyou.”

She pushes herself to sitting. “Weare. And it would take more than twenty for you,” she adds with a pointed stare.

I return the look. “I don’t play games.”

“Right,” she says with wide-eyed teasing, then sighs. “Are you not curious about how I evenknowabout ASMR?”

Another question. About a subject I’m ready to drop.

“So, you needed to talk?” The impatience in my voice is unavoidable.

Reyna rolls her eyes, but takes the cue. “I need your advice.”

I think back to the advice I’ve tried to give her in the past. Which tended to work in her favor less than half the time. She says she wants “advice” but what she really needs is an appeal to how she sees things. She wants encouragement. A push toward a certain destination, and if that destination is Julian, I can’t be her compass.

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