41. Reese
41
REESE
Statistically speaking, there’s a hundred percent chance my sister is going to flip out on me. It will happen. I know this. At this point, I just need to figure out how to calm her down when I tell her about Dane and she inevitably loses her cool.
Hopefully, it’s me who’s breaking the news to her and not the sorority girls.
Anxiety settles low in my stomach, and I bite my bottom lip. The idea of texting her the truth and then powering my phone off for the next decade seems very tempting.
Sensing my distress, Dane puts his hand on top of mine. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
I spare him a brittle smile. “I think it’s best if it’s just us.” I don’t want to ambush my sister. Having a heart-to-heart seems like the better alternative. And I don’t want Dane to hear the things she’ll say about him.
I’m already stressed about what awaits me. I don’t need to worry about keeping the peace between them as well.
Suddenly, a horrifying thought pops into my head. What if she makes me choose between them? Insist that I break up with him?
My heart sinks a little as my attention cuts to the sorority house across the street. There’s no sign of my sister being home at the very moment. I texted her half an hour ago asking if we could talk. She didn’t leave me on read, but she also didn’t respond to my messages, either. She’s most likely busy.
Some part of me hopes that Chrissy and Jenna didn’t relay a single thing to her, but they’re notorious gossips. It’ll be foolish of me to go in without bracing myself for the worst.
“Let me know if things go south,” Dane says, drawing my focus. “I’ll be here. Your getaway car.”
My mouth tips up into the barest hint of a smile. There’s nothing I want more than to sit here with him and pretend life doesn’t exist outside of this car.
With extreme reluctance, I unbuckle my seatbelt. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Your getaway car,” he repeats, sparing me with a reassuring grin. Some of my nerves melt away under the level of focus in his gaze.
I kiss his cheek and breathe in his familiar scent, erupting into laughter when he tugs me closer.
“Everything will be fine,” he promises. “And if it’s not?”
“You’re my getaway car,” I mumble into his chest, soaking up the familiar feel of his embrace. As much as I want to continue pushing this off—as much as I really want to stay here indefinitely—I pry myself out of his arms and climb out of the vehicle.
With a steadying breath, I make my way over to the house. It’s not Lilian who answers the second I ring the doorbell, but Peyton, who gasps excitedly as she draws me in for a hug.
“Little Vann!” she squeals. “I haven’t seen you in forever .”
Wincing, I let out a nervous chuckle. “I’ve been busy. Is Lili around? I need to talk to her.”
“She’s at her internship,” Peyton says, checking the time on her phone. “But she should be back soon. Maybe in ten minutes or so. Want me to get you anything? Sparkling water? Seltzer?—”
“I’m good, but thanks. I’ll just wait for her in her room.” With that, I head for the stairs. Since I’ve last been here, the girls have taken the Christmas decorations down. The place looks… emptier without them. Almost ominous, if anything.
Lilian’s room, on the other hand, is actually empty. I step inside, wishing my nerves would subside, as I take a seat on the edge of her bed. Unfortunately, my anxiety seems to climb higher and higher with every second slipping by slowly.
Flopping back on the mattress, I shoot Dane a text.
Reese: It might take a while
Dane: don’t mind waiting for you
Reese: I do. You don’t have to stay
Dane: I’m your getaway car, Reese’s Pieces
Dane: I’m not going anywhere
Time is moving at the speed of snails crawling through molasses. To keep my mind busy, I scroll through my photo album and send him all the pictures I love. The slight blur of him skating across the ice. The Christmas tree at the hotel. The shot of him holding Onion Rings in his muscular arms. The crinkle of his eyes when he drives. The grumpy expression on his face when he’s trying to bite into his sandwich. The messy hair late at night when his hair gel’s worn off.
There’s a high chance I’m sending him everything in the album.
Dane: heads up
Dane: I see your sister
Oof. With a rough exhalation, I tuck my cell into my back pocket. My palms press against my upper thighs in my attempt to still them, and just when I wonder how long it’ll take for my sister to come up to her room, the door flies open.
Her gaze collides with mine as she bares her canines, and I flinch.
Sitting up slowly, I offer her a tentative wave. The tension between us doesn’t ease up. “Before you freak out?—”
“Tell me something . ” She angrily yanks her purse off of her shoulder. “ Are you insane ?”
“Lilian—”
“ Are you ?” She flings her bag onto her desk, and it knocks into her pencil holder, spilling pens everywhere. “Do you need me to remind you how dangerous he is?”
“He’s not?—”
“He broke Travis’ arm!”
“He—”
“ Do you lack self-preservation and common sense ?” she snarls, and I recoil.
Something inside me twists painfully at her words, and I blink away the start of prickling tears welling behind my eyes. “I have self-preservation?—”
“ No ,” Lilian snaps. “No, you don’t.”
“ I do ,” I protest.
“ You let a complete fucking stranger into your apartment !” she sneers, and I pull in a sharp breath. I don’t have any counter-arguments there. I know that was a terrible judgmental call. “ Dane fucking Kingsley, of all people. What would have happened if ?—”
“He’s really nice,” I cut in.
“How is breaking someone’s arm nice?—”
“He didn’t—Okay, context is important,” I bite out, pressing my hand to my brow bone when she scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“What’s going to happen when he loses his temper and decides to take it out on you?”
My temple pulses irritably as my frustration blooms hot in my chest. Of course, she wouldn’t let me expand. A brick wall would literally be easier to talk to. At least it wouldn’t interrupt me before I managed to get more than ten words in.
“You don’t know him like I do,” I argue. “And he would never hurt me?—”
“You’d have to be the most gullible idiot in the world to believe that?—”
“He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He is ,” I insist when she snorts resoundingly. “He picks me up from work?—”
“ Oh, so you don’t lie to him about when you’re working ?” Her upper lip curls. “ Just me ?”
A renewed sense of annoyance overtakes me like a thick fog. Despite my feelings, I swallow hard and keep sweet. “ Because he doesn’t want me to take the bus back?—”
“Sounds pretty controlling to me.”
“I won’t let you twist everything he’s done for me because you assume the worst of him,” I hiss, shoving to my feet. “He’s kind. Considerate . He makes it a point to let me know when he locks the door?—”
“So you know you can’t escape?”
“So I can sleep knowing no one is going to break in!” I cry out, and the color leeches from her sun-kissed skin. “He sleeps closer to the window for me. When I’m having panic attacks, he comforts me the best he can because he cares about me.” My hands clasp over my heart. “He’s never once made me feel lame or boring for my hobbies and interests. Even though they’re not his thing, he supports me regardless. He got me a camera and?—”
“He got you a camera?” Her face screws up intensely with shock.
“And a car,” I admit.
“Oh my God, I thought you were better than that,” Lilian hisses. “You sound just like Mom right now. Ignoring all the red flags because a man buys you things. Wow . She would be so proud of you for being a fantastic gold digger?—”
“I’m not a gold digger.” Mortification blazes across my cheeks. Raw hurt takes root in me as I shoot her a disbelieving stare. I would never compare her to our mom. Never . “He gave me the car he taught me to drive in.”
“Oh, wow,” Lilian deadpans. “So, you’re his sugar baby? Is that it?”
“Because he gets me nice things? So do you?—”
“Not a car!”
“It has never stopped you from dipping into your student loans to buy me things outside your means,” I remind her. “You bought me a dress?—”
“Do you seriously think a dress compares to a car?” she screeches. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“You buy expensive things for everybody,” I say. “You spent three hundred dollars on a rave suit for Jenna, which she’ll only wear once because she doesn’t do repeat outfits.”
She gnashes her teeth in a vicious growl. “Do you honestly believe he got you a car and—what?—a fancy camera because he likes you? Be real here. He likes you because of these .” She gestures to her breasts. “He’s a guy, Reese!”
My face flames as the ache sharpens in my chest. “Do you truly think that little of me to believe he only likes me because of my body?” My words are so painstakingly soft that the question nearly sticks in my throat.
Despite her huff of breath, remorse etches across her profile. “That’s not what I meant.”
“So you can twist my words all you want, but I can’t interpret yours?” My jaw sets as I glare at her. “You don’t know a single thing about him?—”
“You’re deluding yourself,” she cuts me off. “He’s a dirtbag.”
“No, you’re deluding yourself,” I reply hotly. “You’re completely wrong about him. You only know what Travis said, and that guy is a liar, a sleaze?—”
“Because he’s in a frat?”
“Because he is a major sleazeball.” My voice gains an edge. “I texted you about it—He made degrading comments about you. He called me a charity case. He basically confirmed that Dane broke his arm?—”
“Because he did?—”
“In self- defense,” I snarl. “Travis was the one who shanked him, and you’re too dickmatized to realize the truth.”
“You’re the one too dickmatized to accept the truth,” Lilian retorts, her mouth twisting into a hard sneer. “A rich guy gives you some attention for once and?—”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“Don’t be na?ve.”
“I didn’t fall for him because he gave me attention,” I snap. “I’m in love with him because he’s kind and thoughtful and sweet to me?—”
“No, he’s not kind or sweet or whatever nonsense you think he is.” A humorless laugh escapes her. “You wanna know who’s actually kind and sweet?”
“Swear to God, if you say Travis,” I begin, only for her to roll her eyes.
“Caleb,” she spits out. “The actual nice guy you dumped.”
“Caleb?” My brow scrunches at the thought of him. I mean, she’s not wrong. He’s always busy taking his sisters to their gymnastics routine. He’ll rescue spiders from their doom. He never has a mean thing to say about anybody. “Sure, I guess?—”
“And he’s respectful?—”
“So is Dane?—”
“ Caleb would treat you with genuine respect,” Lilian barrels on. “And you have a lot more in common with him?—”
“I have a lot in common with the friends I make online,” I say blandly. “That doesn’t mean anything?—”
“Yes. Yes, it does. Because Caleb would never hurt you?—”
“Dane wouldn’t.” I will not let her steamroll the conversation. “And you’re the last person to talk. You think Travis is innocent when he’s a total slimeball?—”
“Caleb would never ?—”
“You don’t know that. Maybe Caleb’s a slimeball, too?” I suggest, incensed. “He’s not infallible. He could have ended up hurting me?—”
“He wouldn’t!”
“That’s the point. You don’t know that?—”
“Yes, I do!”
I want to drag my fingernails down my face. Can she go one minute without cutting me off? This is so like her. I just want to be able to get in more than three sentences without her interrupting me incessantly like an annoying smoke alarm in dire need of a battery change.
“Lilian—”
“He would never hurt you?—”
“Oh, I didn’t realize I was talking to a psychic.” My glare turns withering. “How can you be so freaking sure he’ll never hurt me?”
“Because we paid him to!” she snarls.
“You—” The rest of my words die on my tongue as the world comes to a screeching halt.
Her anger gives way to horror as her hand slowly rises to her mouth.
“You…” The air drags raggedly through my lungs. “You… paid him to?” To what ? Be friends with me? Or… No. Please, no .
A lump lodges in my throat. She won’t meet my gaze. She refuses to as I desperately search her face for any other answer, and time expands. No, it freezes .
Oh God. No . A sharp ache twists painfully between my ribs. My chest constricts. My pulse rings in my ears. My face goes hot, as do my eyes when it occurs to me that my sister—my best friend; someone I’ve looked up to my entire life; someone who’s always sworn she’d never let anybody hurt me; someone I’ve always trusted with every inch of my heart and soul—has… paid a guy to go out with me.
Sudden tears blur the edges of my vision.
“Reese,” she rasps, but my head shakes as nausea threatens to overtake me. “ Reese , please listen?—”
I shoulder past her and break into a sprint. Scrambling out of her bedroom, my rib cage heaves with every labored breath as I rush for the stairs. Reaching the main floor, I skid to a halt when my neck prickles with an alarming amount of awareness. It feels as though I’ve been thrust under a spotlight.
Swiveling to my right, I’m rendered stock-still. Frozen in place at the sight of Lilian’s sorority sisters. All staring at me. With varying expressions of stricken shock on their faces and— Oh God.
“Little Vann,” Jenna stammers, but hurt propels me forward. I’m out the door before they can shout for me to wait, my heart fracturing down the middle when I hear my sister calling for me.
The heel of my palm presses hard into my cheek as I rush across the street. My nail almost breaks against the handle as I yank the passenger door open, and Dane jolts, barely glancing at me before the muscles of his jaw go taut.
“Reese?” He sits up straight. “What’s wrong?”
A tear slides down my cheek, and his frame goes utterly rigid. Concern gathers in his eyes, and devastation claims me. A whimper slides free, and my throat closes tight.
I try to find my words, but I can’t. I simply can’t. Nothing comes to mind. Everything just… hurts. The sting in my chest sprawls deeper into an overwhelming ache, and I break into a sob before I can help myself.
“ Can we please get out of here ?”