Page 66 of Dating the Boss
“Me too, Mom,” Regina said, putting an arm around her. A knock sounded on the front door, and my sister beamed. “There’s my girl.”
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Meg said, once Regina answered the door. They hugged before she came into the house. “We had a last-minute emergency. A stray dog was hit by a car, and the person who hit her brought her in.”
“Oh god,” Regina said. “Don’t tell me the dog died or I’ll cry.”
“The dog’s fine.” Meg touched my sister’s cheek. “The person said they wanted to keep her when she’s better, so it was a good day. Just hectic.”
“You’re right on time, dear,” Mom said before turning to go back into the kitchen. “Food’s almost ready.”
She had made hamburger casserole, which had beef, pasta, tomatoes, onions, and layers upon layers of cheese and seasoned with oregano, garlic powder, and salt and pepper. It had been one of Dad’s favorite meals. He was on Mom’s mind a lot today it seemed. Even after twenty years apart, her love for him was stronger than ever.
It was dark by the time I got home.
Reed’s car was still in my driveaway, and I released a breath, the nerves unwinding in my gut. I had hoped he’d stay. A light shone through the living room window, like a beacon welcoming me home.
But once I walked inside the house, I found Reed curled up on the couch crying.
“Reed?” Alarmed, I rushed over and dropped down in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
He blew his nose on a tissue and wiped at his eyes. “My heart’s been torn from my chest, that’s what’s wrong.”
“What?” Fuck, did I do something to upset him? “Baby, talk to me.”
Reed looked at me, surprise washing across his face. “You’re calling me baby now? You sap.” He threw his arms around my neck and laid his head on my shoulder. Tears wet my shirt. “He left for war, Daniel. I think he’s going to die.”
What the fuck?
“Who?” I asked, petting his hair. He started to cry again.
“The character in my book,” he said through small sobs.
That’s when my gaze landed on the Kindle beside him. A sharp laugh left me as everything clicked in my head. He was reading one of his gay romances.
“Stop laughing at me,” Reed whined, half-heartedly pushing at my chest. “It’s not funny. I think I’m dying. This is why I avoid sad books. I don’t like to cry.”
“It’s not real.” I smoothed a hand up and down his spine to comfort him.
“It is to me,” he said, leaning his head against mine. “They might be fictional, but I feelthem so deeply. I’m happy when they’re happy, and I cry when they cry. My heart hurts so bad, but I have to keep reading. I need to know what happens.”
I stood up and started going down the hall.
“Daniel?” Reed asked, turning to look at me over the back of the couch, his tearstained cheeks rosy and his eyes glistening with fresh tears.
“Give me a second,” I said, then continued toward my study.
A large oak desk sat in front of the panel of windows, a recliner sat in the corner, and there were built-in bookshelves along one wall. I went over and grabbed the book I’d started reading a few weeks ago that I hadn’t had time to finish yet. Then I went back into the living room, sitting beside him.
“You’re going to read with me?” he asked.
I slipped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against me before opening my book to the marked page. He smiled before picking up his Kindle. When he started sniffling again several minutes later, I kissed the side of his head. He softly whimpered and snuggled in closer to me. I glanced over at his screen, and before too long, I realized I hadn’t looked away. I’d been reading along with him.
I sharply inhaled when Michael, the soldier, dodged a grenade.
“Wait, are you reading over my shoulder?” Reed asked.
I cleared my throat and went back to my book, flipping the page.
“I don’t mind if you read along,” he said, lightly bumping my chest “Feel my pain and suffer along with me.”
