35. Reese
35
REESE
Karla’s jaw drops. “You turned him down?” Her voice pitches high with shock. “Seriously?”
I blow out an exasperated breath. As much as I love Lilian’s sorority sisters, my social battery depleted a long time ago. Five sorority sisters ago.
They’re friendly, don’t get me wrong, but they’re so nosy. And I can only explain so many times that I don’t want to give Caleb another shot. If I could name-drop Dane and be done with it, I would.
“I don’t wanna go out with him,” I reiterate, and the silence that follows is extremely awkward and tense. I guess I can understand her surprise. From her and everyone else. They made a huge deal about my crush on him last year. Sometimes, it felt like they were more invested in my relationship with him than I was.
“Are you sure?” she asks, and I spare her a tight-lipped smile that borders on a grimace. “Lilian said you were still… you know, struggling with…”
My stomach sinks. “Oh.”
“ And wouldn’t Caleb be a great distraction from that?” she continues brightly. Her attention flits to my exposed neck, and there’s something so gentle in her gaze that makes me feel very small and scoured from the inside out.
I glance elsewhere, busying my fingers with my hair. Anything to distract myself from her look of pity. I should’ve just put on my sweater. Sure, I spilled soup on it, but I’d rather wear last night’s dinner than subject myself to this for any minute longer.
“I…” I hold back my grimace. I can’t tell my sister’s roommate I’m currently seeing someone. Word will get back to Lilian before I even take one step out of the guest room’s door, and I would like to leave this house without another person commenting on my love life. “I don’t need to distract myself with a guy.”
“But it’s so fun, though.”
Shoving the duck plushie Karla got me for Christmas into my backpack, I flash her a wan smile. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m good. Bye .”
Before she can continue this excruciating conversation, I bolt out the door and cling to the desperate hope no one else will utter Caleb Marsden’s name to me while I rush downstairs.
He’s a nice guy, but he’s not the one for me.
“Lili, I have to leave.” I poke my head into the kitchen and freeze at what’s transpiring before my very eyes.
There’s a list of things I never want to experience. This is up there between getting rabies and stubbing a toe every day for the rest of my life. No one in their right mind would ever want to see their sister getting felt up.
Especially when it’s by the one and only Travis Walker.
My mouth tightens into a grim line. My stomach roils. My focus cuts to the ceiling as I try to purge this horrifying incident from memory. This is unexpected, unsettling, and most of all, ew .
Staring fixedly at the red tinsel dangling above me, I clear my throat. I do it again, louder this time, and then I hack my lungs out with a series of coughs.
“Lili,” I hiss. “ Lilian .”
She jerks away from him as if scalded by hot water, and a splash of pink colors her round cheeks when she swivels toward me. There’s no trace of embarrassment in her expression. If anything, she’s breathless, which would be easier to digest if it were caused by literally anyone else.
My line of sight slides toward Travis, and I don’t miss the vehemence gathering behind his eyes. Or the fact that he placed his hand directly on my sister’s ass.
“What’s up?” Lilian asks, smoothing away the disheveled strands of her thick hair.
“Can you walk me to the door?” I clip, my voice tight and bordering on shrill. With a rough inhalation, I flash her an even tighter smile.
“Sure.” She leans over to murmur something into Travis’ ear, and my grimace doubles when he draws her in for another kiss. I peer intensely at a coffee pot.
Soon, she extricates herself from his limbs and accompanies me toward the foyer. A frown furrows between her eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
“Couldn’t. Be. Peachier,” I rasp, and she squints at me. I paste on a stiff, friendly, everything’s fine smile and speedwalk to the front. Sensing her shrewd gaze on me, I shoot her a nothing’s wrong at all grin and wish my nerves would stop cresting.
Her eyes bore a hole through the side of my head. “Are you sure?”
Crap. She knows me well and can easily read my tells. It’s why I never lie to my sister. Up until the last few months, I haven’t had any reason to keep secrets from her.
My stomach gives a sharp twist as guilt assails me.
“Can we talk out there?” I whisper, tipping my head to the side. Wordlessly, she nods and follows me through the door.
Outside, the wintry air is crisp and chilly. The sun’s breaking through the morning clouds and foggy marine layer, warming the earth. Yet it does nothing to calm down the swirling mess of emotions warring inside me.
Shoving my fingers into my hair, I pivot on my feet to face her. I don’t know how to broach the subject. Racking my brain, I try to figure out how to get the ball rolling as eloquently as possible.
“Travis Walker?” I hiss.
Her weight shifts onto one leg. “What about him?”
“I…” There are so many things I want to say. So many things I want to point out. But we both move to the side of the porch when the front door swings open and another sorority sister exits the house, and I lose my train of thought. “Lilian… Him? Seriously? Why ?”
She frowns. “Because he’s cute?”
“B-but…” What am I supposed to say? He’s dangerous, Lili ? I’d laugh at the irony of the situation—at how the tables have turned—if this wasn’t a serious matter. Blowing out a quavering breath, I forge on. “Doesn’t he come off super sleazy to you?”
“Sleazy?” Her arms cross as she slices me with a hard glare. “Because he’s a frat guy?”
“What?” I gasp, stunned. “No.”
“He’s actually nice if you get to know him. In fact, you should get to know him,” she states. “This Saturday, we can go to that pancake place you’ve been raving about.”
No freaking way . I resist the temptation to scowl. “I have work.”
Her posture straightens. “You always have work.” Accusation rings in her tone, and her amber eyes sharpen into steel as silence weighs down on the space between us. “And FYI, I dropped by the bookstore last weekend when you were supposedly working, only to find out from Mandy you had an earlier shift that day.”
My breath catches, and I’m frozen under her blazing gaze. She did what ?
“I stopped by last Wednesday, too. Oddly enough, you weren’t around even though you told me you were covering for one of your coworkers.” Her teeth grit in a mean growl. “So, are you actually working this weekend or are you gonna lie to me again?”
The air painfully leaves my lungs. “I’m not?—”
She huffs out a scoff, bringing her hand to her temple. “I know you. Don’t fucking lie to me.”
My lips clamp shut. Crap. I don’t want this to spiral into an even bigger fight, but I can’t think of a thing to say. My brain is reeling, and I’m overwhelmed as I try to figure out how to defuse the situation and calm her down.
“Okay,” I hedge, “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?” she cuts in.
Doing my boyfriend . The words almost slip off my tongue. Oh God, I’ve been around Dane a bit too much lately.
“Homework,” I explain, and she rolls her eyes. “I’ve been busy with my physics assignments— and engineering projects . Lili, the course load for my major is hard.”
“And yet I haven’t seen you at the tutoring center.” Her disbelieving stare causes me to flinch. “And don’t say you’ve been at home, either. You’re never at your apartment whenever I stop by.”
Well. Shoot . I gnaw on my inner cheek. This isn’t how I wanted to break the news to my sister about Dane, but if push comes to shove, I’ll… tell her about him. Especially if it means I can bring up everything he’s said about Travis and provide her with some much-needed context.
“I… I have my reasons?—”
“You have reasons to lie to your sister?” she seethes, and I almost clutch my forehead as a throbbing ache overtakes my skull.
This is so like her. I can never get more than a few words in before she goes on the offense.
“I wouldn’t have to keep things from you if you’d give me a breather!” I bite out, and she falters back a step, stunned.
“You want a breather?” she repeats slowly, sounding out each syllable, and hurt flashes across her profile. “From me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I begin, only for her to cut me off.
“Reese—” She exhales sharply and stares up at the sky. A frostiness settles across her features as her attention pivots to me, and her nostrils flare. “You know what? Forget it. Have fun working or doing your homework or whatever it is you’re actually doing. I’ll give you the breather you want.”
“Lilian,” I protest. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Never mind that I’ve been sick and worried about you,” she plows on as she edges away from me. “Worried that something could have happened to you again—” She redirects her focus to my neck, and her eyes shine brightly with unshed tears. “Go have your breather, okay? I’ll leave you alone, so you don’t have to keep lying to me anymore.”
My chest tightens. “Lili?—”
“Here’s your fucking breather.” She yanks the door open and slams it shut after her, leaving me standing there, gawping at the Christmas wreath in absolute shock.
Tears keep prickling my eyes despite my attempts to quell them. I hate fighting with my sister. We rarely get into arguments to begin with. Whenever there’s ever any tension brewing, my people-pleaser tendencies kick in, and I try to keep the peace by any means necessary.
Even when I’m in the right, I prefer peace. I hate conflict, and I’ve never liked being in a hostile environment to begin with. But it’s not healthy or fair that I’m always the one who has to cave and let her get her way. Just because she doesn’t like to bend or fold or apologize doesn’t mean I always have to be the one who extends the olive branch.
I love my sister, but she can be frustrating. Her temper and mean streak come out in full force if she thinks she’s been slighted. While her fierceness, fiery personality, and ability to stand up for herself are admirable to an extent, it sucks when she refuses to consider any accountability or accept that sometimes she can be in the wrong.
It’s not entirely her fault what happened between us, but her hotheadedness is not helping at all.
My chest aches as I pace the footbridge of the campus pond some more. I don’t want to look like I spent the last thirty minutes crying, but my sadness hangs over me like a rainy cloud. Not even the pintail ducks are cheering me up.
When my phone buzzes, my hope spikes and fizzles out within a beat as I check the message. Hugging my arms to my chest, I set off toward the parking structure.
Before long, the concrete building comes into view. I drag in a deep breath and freeze when I spot Dane walking over with his hands shoved into his pockets. Just as he’s within reach, his grin turns into a frown while his eyes rove across my face. His stance shifts, and his muscles tense as if he’s priming for a fight.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.” Blinking rapidly, I duck my head and retrieve a key from my backpack. “You need to take this back.”
“Do not feel guilty about the car I got you,” he says, sliding his knuckles under my chin. “You haven’t even seen it yet. I got it painted in both orange and yellow just for you, with Reese’s Pieces detailed on the back bumper.”
An inhuman sound of sheer horror squeaks out of me.
There’s a ninety-nine percent chance he’s messing with me. I know that. But the horrifying image that pops into my head is enough for me to be terrified of the one percent chance he actually went through with it.
“You did not.”
He offers me a slanted grin and leisurely strokes my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “And the plate spells out Big Cups ?—”
“Swear to God, you’re the worst,” I grumble, pulling away from him.
He chuckles. “At least see it before you decide that you don’t want it.”
“I don’t want it,” I say immediately, and he sighs.
“Will you at least humor me a little?” he asks, then pauses. “Unless… Are you that upset over what I got you?”
“Huh?” I go stock-still when he dries a tear off my cheek. “Oh no, I wasn’t…” My words stick in my throat as I find his gaze. I don’t want to tell him about the fight and have him blame himself for what happened between me and Lilian. “Did you really paint it orange?”
“And yellow.” He tosses me a wink, and I laugh for the first time today despite myself.
“If I don’t like it, you said I could sell it, right?” I ask softly, and his mouth twitches with amusement.
“Trust me, Reese,” he says. “You’ll fucking love it.”
After he cuts the engine, I pass him my helmet and comb my fingers through my messy, windswept hair.
Dane hops off his motorcycle and glances over his shoulder. “Need you to look the other way.”
“What could this car key possibly be for?” I ask dryly, turning around to face the street. It’s currently empty, save for us two.
“The fun part”—his boot crunches the gravel as he approaches me from behind—“is getting to see the look on your face.”
“Oh God.” My nose wrinkles. “Should I be worried?”
He lets out a raspy chuckle. “Nah. Now, cover your eyes, Mini Reese. If you’re peeking, I’ll do it myself.”
With a sigh, I oblige and startle a beat later when I feel his hands on my biceps. He carefully spins me around twice, and I’m dizzy when I come to a complete stop. Hopefully facing the garage.
“You can look now.”
Slowly blinking my eyes open, I peek through my fingers and brace myself, only to see the usual suspects. A flashy black coupe hangs to the left, tucked behind the vintage red and blue muscle cars. Then there’s the pony parked in the middle. Further back is the newest addition he got last week: a green fastback with a cracked windshield that needs to be replaced.
There is nothing remotely yellow or orange under this roof. As I squint, my peripheral vision finally takes notice of a vehicle to my right. My eyes widen as it slowly dawns on me I recognize the shape of the taillights. And the tailgate. Of the convertible. Which is now painted in a light purplish-blue shade.
The air whooshes from my lungs, and I stand there, rooted to the spot. My heart thumps in my ears; my hands shake. I can’t breathe. I’ve forgotten how to.
It’s the dreamiest color I’ve ever seen—something close to pastel—and pairs well with the white interior.
Breathless, I swivel around and peer up at him. He shoves his hands into his pockets and offers me a shrug. My lips part.
“Is that the Nova?” I choke out, my words barely a scratch above a whisper.
“A Nova for a Nova.” He fishes out the Hot Wheels I hand-painted for him and spares me a slight grin. I’m vaguely aware of how my feet are moving until my knees bump against his shins, and the distance between us ceases.
“Oh my God.”
“You know,” he continues, placing his hands low on my hips. “I do hope you don’t get rid of it. The color alone was a pain in the ass to customize.”
“It was?” I wet my bottom lip with the tip of my tongue. My heartbeat is frantic and wild and beating oh so fast. I thought he sold it. At least, that’s what he told me.
“But iris is such a nice color that it was worth it,” he continues, punctuating his words with a gentle squeeze. “You feel me, Charisse?”
I’m helpless against the beam overtaking my face. Overwhelmed, I glance elsewhere as a flush of heat crawls up my neck. “You know my name.”
“No shit? Charisse?” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “I got it right the first time?”
Peering sideways at him, I catch sight of his unabashed smile, and my pulse trips over itself. “It’s?—”
“I know.” He winks. “Give me some credit.”
Biting my bottom lip, my attention returns to the car. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how to thank him. I’m speechless. Utterly so. Because oh my God ?
My brain has officially short-circuited on me. It cannot form any words. It is simply a pile of mush.
This has to be the sweetest gesture anyone has ever done for me. My stomach gives a warm flutter, and tears begin welling behind my eyes.
“This is your car,” Dane says finally, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. “Unless you happen to know another Iris out there who’ll appreciate this beaut more than you.”
“I…” I let loose a hoarse laugh. “It’s so weird hearing someone call me by my given name.”
“I feel ya, Reese’s Pieces.”
“Daniel?” I guess. I mean, what else could it be? Danish ?
A shudder racks through his frame, and he pulls back and levels me with a hard grimace. “Don’t think I like hearing that from you, Reese.”
“How did you even figure out my name?”
“Well, I Googled shades of purple after our conversation and saw it on a list.” He offers me a smug little grin and shrugs. “Was torn between raisin and iris , so I flipped a coin.”
I snort before I can help myself. “You didn’t have to. I—I thought you didn’t like purple?”
“Well, some girl I know suggested painting it purple,” he says. “I decided to go through with her advice.”
“Must be some girl,” I whisper, as he tugs me in close to his body.
His expression softens while he peers steadily into my eyes. “She is.”