Page 12 of Sing For Me

I need to get her out of here as quickly as possible.

“I know Reese has a lot to do today. Maybe we should get out of her hair? I can show all of you around myself?”

“How long have you two been…” Kelly waves her hand between us. “This?”

Reese frowns, and I wonder if it’s at Kelly’s question or the fact she completely ignored me.

“What, working together?” Reese asks. A flicker of irritation flashes in her eyes. Maybe it was both.

“No—”

“Kelly,” I say. “Maybe we can talk about this later?”

“No, I’d like to know,” Kelly says, leveling her gaze on me. It’s then I realize she sees right through me. She knew I was bluffing about Reese. “I’d really love to know how long you two have been an item. Because you don’t seem like Eli’s type.”

My chest sinks.

Reese is staring at me like I’ve grown horns. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Come on, darling, don’t make them feel awkward,” Neil says, smiling at his wife. He leans in, lowering his voice. “Maybe they’re not open about it.” He tips his head to the rest of the people in the kitchen, who’ve reverted to work. While they look at each other, I give Reese an apologetic look. AnI’m really fucking sorry but please play alonglook—just until I figure this shit out.

“Really, since when have you liked blondes?” Kelly asks, ignoring her husband, too. “I used to think you were so predictable.”

Her tone sends heat rising up my chest. The casual way she’s talking about Reese like she’s not even here. The way she’s talking to me.

“You always told me you thought brunettes had more fun—”

I take a step toward Reese. “That’s enough,” I say to Kelly. This is insane. I won’t drag Reese down with me. I turn to Reese. “Reese, I’m sorry, I should have said something a long time ago. The truth is—

“The truth is they don’t know,” Reese says, making Kelly’s eyebrows fly up.

Neil rubs his hands together. “Ooh, yes, a passionate love affair!”

That irritation I saw in Reese’s eyes a moment ago is a flame now. She’s pissed. Maybe it’s at me—hell, it’s definitely at me. But it’s at Kelly, too.

The smallest part of me dares to hope this might not be my whole life bottoming out. That maybe she doesn’t hate my fucking guts. Still, I can’t make her go through with this, can I?

Kelly chews on her lip. For a moment, I’m distracted by this. She used to do that when she was mulling something over in her head, and it used to make me wild for her. Maybe it still does, in a way. But her eyebrows furrow. “What do you think about that scar on his thigh, Reese? Doesn’t it remind you of the letter F?”

I frown. What the fuck? I have a scar on my inner thigh I got from falling down in the brush with my brother Jude when we were kids. We were on a camping trip and fighting, as usual. I was kicking his ass. As usual. But I ended up with a bloody wound from an overly sharp stick. My mom was pissed—if it had been deeper or closer to my groin, I could have been in serious danger.

“The letter G, I’ve always thought,” Reese says. “But you need to be looking at it at the right angle, if you know what I mean.”

Kelly pinches her lips shut. She was testing Reese. And she passed.

I’m so stunned, for a moment I can’t speak. My eyes are on Reese’s. By the way her cheeks go pink, I wonder if we’re both thinking about the same thing: how there’s only one way that scar looks like a G. And it requires being in a very specific position to see it like that.

Neil, meanwhile, booms with laughter. “I like her. I really like her.” He claps me on the back.

If my wife were talking about her ex-husband’s inner thigh, I’d be fucking seething. But the man doesn’t appear to have a jealous bone in his body.

“Hey!” Neil says, as if remembering something. “We’re eating tonight down at Viande something or other.”

“Viande et Patates,” I say absently, still staring at Reese. “My buddy runs that place.”

“Well, isn’t that wonderful! You two should join us, then!”

Kelly smiles broadly. “Great idea, my love.”

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