“Throw your bag in the back on the count of three, ready?” he said.
“Ready!” I responded, getting a better grip and swinging my bag back and forth to get it ready.
“One. Two. Three!” he yelled, and I let my bag fly. It hit the back of the seats and slid to the back floor next to some football binders and his secret hat.
“OK, I’m going to turn around, and you need to grab the handle,” he said.
“OK,” I said. “Or, you could just put me down?”
“No, ma’am. I’m afraid that is not an option,” he said in an overly serious voice. This silly side of Reed was new, and I was truly loving it.
“Can you see it?” he asked.
“Yep, got it. Open,” I said, pulling the door out wide enough for me to get in.
“OK, keep your head tucked,” he said, grabbing a hold of my sides tightly and lowering me from his shoulder and into the Jeep so my feet dangled out the side and I sat facing him. I smoothed out the wild hairs from my head, pulled my shorts down a bit and straightened my suit straps, still giggling a bit and squeezing my eyes shut from the rush of blood from my face. I opened them up to see Reed throwing his shirts and suit in the back and then making a dramatic serious face as he stood right in front of me.
“Crisis averted, ma’am,” he said, saluting me just like I had done to him so many times. I just smiled, blushing a little at the sudden close attention. Reed’s cheesy smile slowly slid into a more natural one, a warm one. He stood there between my feet, so close I could smell the gum on his breath and the chlorine still wet on his shorts. He tilted his head to the side the slightest bit and reached up slowly to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I watched his hand come up to my face and then move back down to his side. I was unable to speak. Barely able to breathe. Reed inhaled deeply then looked down my legs. He reached down and scooped up my dangling limbs and slid me the right way in the seat, reaching across my body for the seat belt, stopping when his eyes were right at mine, his mouth inches from mine.
“My duty isn’t over until you’re completely safe,” he said, his right dimple rising with a smirk. He held my gaze for what was probably two seconds but felt like a lifetime. He blinked to look down at the seatbelt holder and clicked my buckle in place, pulling it so it was tight against my skin. “There, we should be able to get you home now.”
He stepped back and then closed the door carefully before walking around the back of the Jeep. I exhaled immediately, letting out all of the anxiety from holding my breath for so long. My heart beat was thumping in my ears. I looked in the side mirror to see Reed walking slowly and rubbing the back of his neck. Seconds later he was opening his door and getting in next to me. Without a word he turned the ignition, buckled his own belt and pulled us out on the main road.
I couldn’t help but stare at him. The last 10 minutes of my life were a dream. The best dream I have ever had, but they seemed so surreal. I didn’t care if Reed caught me staring, and frankly, I could tell he felt my eyes on him. He was being overly cautious about driving, paying attention to everything on the road, looking everywhere but me. Wanting to break the tension, I leaned forward and turned on his stereo. I put on the oldies station just to get his attention a little, and I saw his face light up with a smile when Elvis started cranking from his speakers. Unable to help himself, he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows up and down.
“Wow, you know all the latest hits, huh?” he joked.
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it, my friend,” I defended. “I grew up listening to this stuff. It’s the best!”
I sang along to a bit of “Hound Dog” and tapped my hand on the windowsill with the beat. Then, out of nowhere, I felt Reed’s hand slide over my other hand that was resting on my leg. He grabbed it tightly, smiled at me and didn’t let go until we pulled onto my street.
Reed had a workout scheduled that afternoon, so I didn’t talk to him until we texted each other later that night. Feeling like I had a bit of an open door, I sent him a text first:
Hey, you around?
I left my phone on my desk while I busied myself with nonsense around my room, waiting for it to buzz back. A few minutes passed when I heard his reply.
Just got home. Good timing. What’s up?
Hmmm. I didn’t really have a question. I was just craving more of him, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to say that.
Nothing, just wanted to thank you for all the rides this week. My car’s supposed to be done tomorrow, might even be waiting for me when we get home. You mind taking me one more time?