I grab the pot of mashed potatoes and carry it over to the serving table. Riley moves down to allow me some room. “Pretty much.” I look into her eyes, the same strange, pale-blue color as Reed’s.
Way to miss that gigantic clue, Beth.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go out with CJ. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t. But hearing Reed say he wishes . . . certain things, I don’t know. I just feel like we’re nothing right now, and I don’t want to be nothing with Reed. I miss talking to him. I miss hanging out with him.”
“It sounds like he misses you too.”
I give her a weak smile, letting my arms fall to my sides. “But in what way? What was I to him? He told me we were something. What? Friends? More than that?”
Riley lifts her shoulders, then grabs a few empty serving trays from the shelf below the table.
“If my brother is jealous because you’re going out with another guy, which it definitely sounds like he is, I’d say you were in the more-than-that category. But,” she pauses with a cautious look. “This is my brother we’re talking about, and he doesn’t get jealous, or miserable, or anything else over women anymore, so, I don’t know. The last woman I ever saw him feel anything for was his stupid ex, and that was nine years ago.”
“Yeah, I know. I met her.”
She drops the trays on the table and whips her head around. “You met Molly? How? Was Reed with you? Oh my God, he saw her and didn’t tell me?”
“Whoa.” I hold my hands out in front of me. “Yes, to all of those questions, I think. I’m assuming he didn’t tell you.”
She gently rolls her eyes. “Unbelievable.”
“That’s kind of how we started hanging out. I roped the two of us into attending her engagement party last weekend.” I swallow hard when she slowly looks at me. “As a couple,” I meekly add.
“As a couple?” she questions, her voice reaching a higher pitch. “Reed did the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing with you?”
I almost take offense to that, until I remember Reed telling me he hasn’t kissed anyone in nine years. I’m going to assume he hasn’t been a boyfriend in that long either.
Jesus. That witch was his last girlfriend?
I stare into Riley’s eyes. “Yes. He did the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing.”
She huffs, dropping her shoulders. “You think you know somebody.” Riley shakes her head as her hands curl into fists. “I want to call him so bad right now.” She holds a finger up in front of my face, halting my protest. “But I won’t. I’ll pretend I know nothing about this.”
“Thank you.”
She grabs the serving trays off the table. “I don’t know, Beth, really. Like I said, Reed doesn’t get jealous, but he also doesn’t usually pretend to be someone’s boyfriend so he can spend a night with his ex. I might be just as confused about this now as you are.”
She walks away, carrying the trays over to the baking sheet of dinner rolls.
My head feels heavier now, putting strain on the muscles in my neck. It’s not even noon and I feel like I could lie down and sleep for days. Maybe Reed isn’t jealous, or miserable.
Maybe I’ve imagined everything.
His words to me in the bathroom, his hand on my neck, his urgent breath against my skin.
“CJ asked me out.”
I’ve never hated the sound of my own voice before, until that moment.
“You want my advice?” Riley calls out, moving around the kitchen.
I lean back against the wall, nodding when she looks over at me.
She carries over two trays of rolls. “Go out with CJ. If Reed doesn’t like it, make him do something about it.”
Wendy walks through the doorway and grabs an apron off the wall. “Five minutes until the doors open. Are we ready back here?”
Riley looks at me. I take in a deep breath.
Make him do something about it.
She’s right. It’s Reed’s turn to grab my face and kiss me without giving me a choice in it. It’s his turn to reach for my hand, to touch me first. He’s miserable? He’s jealous? Let me see it. The only thing he’s shown me is how easily he can be dragged out of my work.
I reach for two aprons, tossing one to Riley. “We’re ready.”
I STARE BACK AND FORTH between the two objects tempting me. My gaze lingers on the one, my cell phone.
Don’t even think about it.
Forcing my eyes to the left, I size up the plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies I’ve just slaved over for tomorrow.
Nope. You’re wasting your time looking.
Back to the phone. I rest both elbows on the counter, leaning my chin on my fists, a heavy sigh rolling past my tongue.
I miss him. So sue me. Sending Reed a simple ‘how is your day’ text isn’t the same thing as forcing him to kiss me. Right?
It’s close.
Grunting, I flick my gaze back to the cookies.
Still warm. The perfect golden brown color, with the tiny chocolate morsels instead of the regular sized ones. I only made a dozen. I alone can eat all twelve of these bad boys, which is why I shouldn’t eat one right now. One will become seven, seven will lead to me grabbing my car keys and heading back to the store. But then, there’s the other temptation in the room. If I’m going to cave and reach for something, shouldn’t it be the cookies?
My eyes sweep the counter. I think back to the last text from Reed. The one I never responded to. Is he waiting for me to write back? Is that why he hasn’t sent me anything else?