Page 58 of Let It Breathe
“That’s sweet,” Larissa said, edging closer to him on the sofa. “Fine, you’re forgiven. You can take me to dinner next week.”
Joey put an arm around her. “That’s great, baby. I won’t let you down, I swear.”
Reese felt someone kick her shin and looked over to see Eric holding up his glass of wine. “I guess we have to drink to what he said—the I never slept with anyone in this room? We were married. I think we might’ve had sex once or twice.”
Reese shrugged and felt her face flood with heat. She wanted to blame it on the public spectacle of the whole thing, but she knew damn well she was avoiding looking at Clay. “Fine,” she said, and took a sip of wine.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Clay shift in his seat. She set down her glass and kept her expression neutral and her gaze trained on a throw pillow for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, she couldn’t stand the suspense. She stole a glance at Clay. He was looking at his water glass and frowning, but he must have felt the weight of Reese’s stare. He looked up and gave a shrug so small, she might have imagined it. Then he set his glass down without taking a sip.
“I think that does it for me, guys,” he said as he stood up. “I have to get up early in the morning.”
Reese stood, too, wiping her palms on her jeans as twin surges of relief and disappointment coursed through her. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “And for the help with Leon earlier.”
“No sweat.” Clay opened the front door and paused at the threshold. “Good seeing you guys.”
“Later,” Joey called after him, his eyes focused on Larissa. “I think I’m gonna take off. You want to go grab a drink?”
“A drink, huh?” She grinned at him. “Yeah, that’s what I’d like to grab.”
The two of them stood up, and Joey put his arm around Larissa. Reese stepped aside as they moved toward the door in a cloud of sexual energy Reese could hear crackling in the air.
“Be safe,” she called, then felt like kicking herself for sounding like a schoolmarm. She walked them all to the door and flipped on her porch light to make sure they made it to their cars.
As soon as the door shut, Eric stood up. “Thanks for dinner, Riesling.”
“Don’t call me Riesling.”
He grinned and carried his wineglass and empty cobbler bowl to the kitchen. When he turned back around, the grin had vanished.
“Look, Reese—promise me something, okay?”
“To love, honor, and cherish?” Reese leaned back against the counter. “Sorry, been there, done that, outgrew the T-shirt.”
Eric shook his head. “I’m being serious for once. Just promise me you’ll be careful with Clay.”
Reese felt the words like a punch to the gut. Her pulse sped up, but she forced herself not to blink. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know.”
“I really don’t.” She swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t see her tight grip on the counter behind her. “Are you worried about me or him?”
“Yes.” Eric frowned. “I love you guys, but you’re totally wrong for each other. A recovering addict and someone with an unrealistic concept of relationships? I just don’t want to see either of you mess up each other’s lives.”
“Bite me, Eric.”
He managed a small smile at that. “You mentioned the spanking, but I didn’t realize biting was your thing, too.”
She shook her head, not willing to loosen her grip on her irritation in exchange for his dumb jokes this time. She folded her arms, hoping he couldn’t tell how much his words had gotten to her. “Were you always this charming? I can’t remember if this is why I married you or divorced you.”
“Both.” He gave her a smile she knew was meant to soften his words, but they still sliced through her like little bits of hot wire. “Just promise you’ll listen to me. Clay’s rebuilding his life here, and we’re the only friends he still has. You guys can’t let something stupid like libido screw that up.”
She shook her head, determined not to let him see the way her hands were shaking. “I’m not promising anything because there’s no need,” she insisted. “I’m not hot for Clay, and he’s not hot for me. We couldn’t be more wrong for each other, and we both know it.”
He stared at her, an expression she recognized as his best effort to bite back the word bullshit. Reese stared back, unflinching.
“Nothing’s going to happen between Clay and me,” she insisted, as much to reassure herself as Eric.
