Page 32 of Word to the Wise

But now, every time Reed glances at me, I’m reminded of how much I’ve wanted this girl since the first moment I met her. And I feel like a fucking asshole for even thinking it.

The last thing she needs is some guy drooling over her when she’s trying to get over a six-year relationship with her abusive, piece of shit ex-boyfriend.

So I’ve been holding it in. Pretending the want doesn’t exist. And I’ve been doing a pretty good job at it.

But she caught me off guard when I came home early today. She was sitting on the couch looking like an angel placed on this earth just for me. She offered to leave so I could go out and have the apartment to myself, and it took everything in me not to drop to my knees and tell her I’d be fine if she never left at all.

I’m getting used to having her in my space. To her eyes being the first thing I see in the morning, and her voice being the last thing I hear at night.

I’m getting comfortable having her around.

The last thing I want to do is watch her disappear to the Twisted Kings compound so I can fuck some random girl. That doesn’t even sound appealing right now. All I want is Reed and her big brown eyes.

Her company.

Her smile.

Finally, for the first time in a month, I saw it. I made a stupid, flirty joke, and her whole face lit up. It nearly knocked me on my ass.

I couldn’t think or speak.

I did that to her—me.

It made me lose all train of thought.

Now here she is, sitting across from me, trying to drown her cheeseburger in ketchup.

I didn’t know where to take her to lunch because if a place was too fancy, she might think I was trying to turn it into a date. But if it was a drive-through, she might think I don’t care at all.

So I decided on this diner, where the food is decent, and the people are nice.

Reed rattles my brain. I can’t think straight around this girl. Everything I do feels like it’s wrong.

She shakes the ketchup bottle again, and it has her chestnut hair flopping around where it’s tied on the top of her head. She’s wearing less makeup now that the bruises have faded, and her pink sweater matches the bright blush of her cheeks.

I swear this girl is stunning in absolutely everything. She can be in pajamas or a neck-to-ankle bodysuit, and I’d do her bidding to the ends of the earth.

“Need help with that?” I ask when she gets frustrated by the resistant bottle of ketchup.

She shakes her head. “I’ve got it.”

She still refuses to ask for help with anything, and I get it. I’m still learning how to use my own legs myself after growing up in a family where you’re handed everything you need. It’s a struggle, but it feels good figuring shit out on your own. It makes the wins worth it.

The bottle finally squirts ketchup out, and it splatters all over the table. A couple of drops land on my hoodie.

“Oh my God.” She sets the bottle down, her hands flying to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you.”

“It’s fine.” I wipe the ketchup with a napkin, but it just smears. “It’ll come out in the wash.”

“It’s going to stain. I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry, Mason.” She grabs a napkin and dips it in her water, rubbing it on my sleeve. “I’ll wash it the second we get back to the apartment. Or I can get you a new one.”

“Reed.” I place my free hand over hers, where she’s rubbing my sweater like she’s going to war with it. “It was an accident. No big deal. You don’t need to buy me a new one. And you don’t need to be sorry. It’s okay.”

She presses her lips together, wetting them.

They’re the perfect shade of strawberry, which figures when I’m allergic, and this girl makes me itch with desperation every second I’m around her.

Reed blinks like she’s coming to, slowly pulling her hand away as she leans back in the booth. “I’m—” She cuts herself off before sayingsorryagain out of habit.

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