47. Reese
47
REESE
We sit there in silence, as we have been doing for the last fifteen minutes, and I pretend to text my sister while I wait for him to say something. After several moments, Dane finally heaves out a long-suffering sigh, then groans at the ceiling.
“I look like a fucking tool.” My gaze flits to him as he tugs at a button, and his mouth settles into a firm line. “I look like a major prick.”
“You look nice,” I assure him, and his grimace deepens.
“I look like I’m about to ask if you’d like to sign up for an extended warranty,” he grumbles before he glances sideways. “Have you heard about our extended warranty?”
Reaching over, I gently pry his fingers away from his button-up shirt. “You look nice,” I reiterate and bite my bottom lip to suppress my amusement when he levels me with a grumpy expression.
I’ll have to admit, it is jarring to see him dressed up for once. It didn’t occur to me he possessed any clothes that weren’t threadbare or covered in grease.
“Do I… look nice enough to get some last-minute action with my hot girlfriend?”
My brow arches. “What do you think, Daniel?”
A mischievous grin breaks across his face before he blinks innocently at me. “Yes?”
“No.” My dry, blank stare only has him grinning harder. “Come on. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
“Goody two-shoes,” he teases.
“ And your getaway car,” I tack on with a dorky little smile. Amusement crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he holds my gaze. “I’ll get us out of here if things go south.”
The corner of his mouth tips up even higher. His lopsided grin doesn’t last long, though. Something hesitant clouds his features, and he lets out a rough sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Everything will be fine,” I reassure him, then press a quick kiss to his cheek before I climb out of the convertible.
The house looks like something I’ve always dreamed about growing up, but twice as picturesque and gorgeous. A white picket fence surrounds a big and luscious green yard. Neatly trimmed cypress trees line the front porch of a blue clapboard house. Potted flowers in vibrant shades of white, pink, and purple hang tastefully from the porch roof.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Dane teases, drawing my attention from the bay windows. He doesn’t even make it halfway up the steps when the front door flings open.
“ Daniel !”
He barely spares me a grumpy look when a boy half our age rushes outside and barrels straight into him. My beam widens when he mouths save me before his brother drags him inside.
I follow them into the house, where Dane’s stepmom, Aisha, greets me with the warmest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Alex,” she calls out. “Where are your manners? Say hello to Reese. You too, James.”
Alex blurts something over his shoulder before steering Dane down the hallway and leaving me in the foyer with his mom and James, who awkwardly rocks on his feet.
He looks a lot like Alex, with his light brown skin, wide brown eyes, and dark curly hair. I would have assumed they were identical if Dane had never told me Alex is nine and James is turning eight next month.
“Hi.” I offer him a friendly wave, and James freezes, ducks his head, and presses his chin into his neck.
He mumbles the word back, his voice barely a scratch below a whisper, and his face turns beet red. Hastily shoving his hands into his pockets, he feigns interest in the floorboards. I fight the twitch to my lips. God, it’s uncanny how much he reminds me of Dane.
Without subtlety, he sneaks a peek at me, turns impossibly redder, and sighs in relief when Alex hollers for him. Hunching his shoulders, he stiffly shuffles toward the hallway and breaks off into a sprint.
“He’s shy,” Aisha explains the moment he’s out of earshot.
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.” With a tentative smile, I follow her into the living room, where a pitcher of lemonade and plates of cookies await us.
The interior is just as lovely as the exterior. Tasteful furniture and decorations in subtle shades of blue create a subtle seascape ambiance. A piano hangs in one corner, and dozens of framed photos are scattered across the mantle of an ornate fireplace.
“Your home is beautiful,” I breathe, and a part of my heart melts at the shot of a younger Dane grudgingly trying not to smile for the camera while carrying one of his brothers on his back.
“This one’s my favorite.” Aisha passes me a candid picture of Dane showing his younger brothers the engine of the black sports car I spotted in the driveway.
“I can see why,” I say softly. His grumpy glower is a common denominator in so many of them that this one is the odd man out. In the shot, he’s slightly grinning while one of his brothers hangs on his back and he holds the other in his arms so they can look under the hood.
Only one other photograph captures his rare smile while he proudly shows off his hockey uniform, with his mom squatting beside him. He looks so much younger here, and he has her eyes. Her cheekbones. Her smile. Although, he was missing a tooth when the image was taken.
Slowly, my attention snares on a different picture—taken during high school graduation, based on the cap and robe he’s wearing. Dane is wedged between Marco and a graying, potbellied man. Sal, I’m presuming, looks at him with so much pride despite the scowl Dane aims at the camera.
“How have you been doing?” Aisha’s warm voice jolts me back to the present.
“I’ve been… okay,” I admit sheepishly, then awkwardly chuckle when she gives me a concerned frown. “I’ve been taking self-defense classes with my sister now that I’m unemployed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry?—”
“No, don’t be.” My features slip into a reassuring smile. “It’s for the best. I didn’t want to stick around campus.”
Since I don’t want to bore her with the details about going to therapy, I take the opportunity to ask her questions about her job as a domestic violence attorney. While she gives me a quick rundown, I check out her wedding photos. I won’t point it out to my boyfriend any time soon, but he looks a lot like his dad.
My gaze drifts to his high school diploma and lingers. “Daniel Ellis Kingsley the second.”
“Ellis is?—”
“His mother’s name. I mean family name. Maiden —” My words break off with an awkward chuckle, and I’m more than grateful when she kindly offers me a glass of lemonade. I don’t know if it’s impolite to mention I’m a fan of her husband’s first wife’s movies, and I don’t want to risk it.
For the next half-hour, we go through numerous albums and pore over countless pictures. She provides me with random tidbits here and there, which is much appreciated. But it’s also somewhat heartbreaking to piece together what went down between him and his dad. It’s tragic to hear how much his dad tried to be there for him and how painfully obvious it was that Dane wanted the same thing, but they simply were never on the same wavelength.
“It’s great to have Dane come see us,” Aisha admits. “The boys missed him dearly.”
“They haven’t seen him in a while?” I make the obvious guess.
A weary sigh escapes her. “It’s been a few years.”
“Oh.” My heart gives a soft pang. I still remember how much I missed my sister when she left for college. “That must have been hard for them.”
Aisha nods and stirs her drink, then takes on a sad smile. “It was hard for Alex and James. Especially Alex. He blames himself for what happened between Dan and Dane.”
“What happened between them?” I ask. “I’m not familiar with the details.”
She drops her voice to a conspiratorial note. “A few years ago, when Dane was still in high school, he disappeared. Nobody knew where he was. It was just shortly after his birthday, and Dan was worried he ran away.”
With a deep groan, I almost shut my eyes as I suddenly recall every detail about his beloved Mustang provided to me. “Let me guess. He hitchhiked?—”
“To Arizona,” she confirms. “Alex woke us up when he heard him come home in his new car… and Dan blew up on him. You have to understand—emotions were high. Dan was just worried sick and upset that he gave us such a fright.” Something rueful takes hold of her features. “Dane left that night and stayed with Sal and his family for the rest of his senior year of high school. We never heard from him again until we got a call that he was in the hospital.”
My heart drops like a lead weight. “The night he was attacked? At Belford?”
Her eyes become misty as she peers intently at her lap. “Yes.”
“That must have been terrifying,” I admit, and Lilian comes to mind. My chest constricts at the thought of her receiving a call from our old neighbor about me being admitted to the county hospital.
“It was,” she whispers. “We were terrified that he might not make it.” Abruptly, she sits up and blinks away her tears before her husband pokes his head into the living room.
“Grill’s almost done,” he announces, and I’m not kidding about how much Dane looks like his dad. They have the same dark hair. The same build. “Where’s Daniel?”
“With the boys.” Aisha gives me a sideways glance while she rises to her feet. “Would you mind?—”
“I’ll get them.” Setting my drink down, I smooth the material of my dress as I head toward the boys’ room. Mr. Kingsley gives me a polite smile as he introduces himself to me, but it doesn’t quite mask the hint of nervousness in his eyes. I offer him a reassuring grin, then duck into the hallway.
I don’t have to play a guessing game to figure out where I need to go. The door on my right doesn’t conceal the chorus of bright and rowdy laughter coming from inside. I take a peek and almost snort. Dane took his dress shirt off.
As it is, none of them notices me. They’re all too busy playing an imaginary hockey game. At least, I think they are. It honestly looks like they’re just trying to hit each other’s shins with their sticks.
Regardless, it’s a sweet moment. Especially when Dane lets them gang up on him and pretends to lose. Retrieving my phone from my purse, I barely hold it up when Dane flashes me the softest smile I’ve ever seen, eyes crinkled and all.
Beaming back at him, I snap a picture of them right before James startles when he spots me standing in the doorway and accidentally jerks his hockey stick into Dane’s ribs.
James still won’t make eye contact with me. He mumbles goodbye to the ground while Alex reminds Dane nonstop that they’re home from school at three-thirty, we have to be here at three-thirty, and we’re supposed to pick them up on Friday at three-thirty.
My heart breaks again for the nth time today when Alex asks about Dane’s motorcycle before he can take another step out onto the porch. Diverting my attention elsewhere, my gaze lands on James, only to see his cheeks become scarlet as his eyes dart to his sneakers.
“I’ll show you my bike next week,” Dane offers.
“Why not now?” Alex asks, and he gives Dane a pleading stare. “You can show us your motorcycle right now.”
“Alex,” their dad chimes in. “They have to go home before it gets too late.”
“But… this is home,” Alex mumbles, and my heart squeezes tight. “You just came back.”
“Alex,” their dad repeats, his voice rougher this time, but Dane cuts him short.
“Tell you what,” Dane says, his throat working with a hoarse swallow. “After go-karts, we’ll take you and James back to my place so you can see my bike. You guys can sleep over. I’ll even order a birthday cake.” He pauses, then looks over Alex’s shoulder. “If that’s okay with you.”
With an audible exhalation, their dad nods. “Of course.”
“If it’s no trouble with you,” Aisha quickly chimes in. “You could always celebrate your birthday here, Dane.”
“No!” Alex protests. “I want to go to Daniel’s.” He immediately elbows James, who shoves him back. “We both do.”
“Okay then,” Dane says. “That settles it. After go-karts, we’ll go back to my place.”
It takes ten minutes before Alex grudgingly lets us leave, but only after he reminds us again to pick them up for go-karts at three-thirty. James burns the darkest shade of red when Dane loudly suggests to his youngest brother to hug me goodbye in a thinly veiled attempt to break the tension.
The instant we’re inside the convertible, I reach for the pack of tissues in the glove compartment.
“You’re really that upset about spending more time with my brothers, huh?” he deadpans, and I sniffle in response.
“They just seem so happy to spend time with you on your birthday.”
“Yeah.” Behind the bravado, there’s a roughness to his word. “They do.” He casts a sidelong glance at me, and I flash him a watery smile in return. “Any chance you know where I can get a cake on short notice?”
“My sister and I bake each other birthday cakes with box mixes we get from grocery stores,” I suggest. “The fun part was always making it and adding extra sprinkles. It could be something you guys can do together.”
He stares at me head-on. “Reese, they will eat all the batter before it even goes in the oven.”
A peal of laughter slips free. “I’ll bake one before they come over, so you guys don’t get sick eating raw batter.”
With that, we wave goodbye to his family once more before I throw the Nova in reverse. Pensively, Dane peers into the side- view mirror while I drive. I peel out of the cul-de-sac and take a turn, then cut the engine the moment we’re a block away.
Without saying a word, I unclip my seatbelt, lean over the center console, and throw my arms around him. He immediately slumps into my embrace as a shuddering breath works through his chest, dropping his head on my shoulder. Short puffs of air hit my neck. His fingers clutch the back of my dress and bunch up the material in his fists. His frame trembles the second I stroke his back.
For several long minutes, it’s all we do.
“You were right,” he says finally. “It wasn’t so bad.”
I gently kiss his temple. “What made you decide to reach out to him?”
“I’ve already lost enough people in my life.” His voice chokes off. “Figured I should appreciate the ones I have.”
Squeezing him tighter, I bite my bottom lip and hesitate. “Is this about Marco?”
His body goes rigid, and at last, I have my answer. I’m not the smartest person on the planet, but I’d have to be extremely clueless not to notice that the locks have been replaced at his apartment, which seems pointless to do when we’re moving to a place closer to campus next month.
“I’m sorry for what he did to you,” he says, angling his head back to meet my gaze. “He knew how much you meant to me, which was why he targeted you.”
My brow shifts into an imperceptible frown.
“Don’t defend him, Snack Mix,” he grumbles.
“I wasn’t going to,” I swear. “I didn’t realize he was there when I was leaving my class that night.” I pause, my thoughts heavy. “Was that why he was at the treatment plant?”
“Think so.” A subtle tensing in his jaw snags my focus. “He probably thought he could pull one over me.” With a weary sigh, he scrubs his hand down his face. “I never realized he took my spare key in the first place. I thought I misplaced it. It never even occurred to me he’d do that to me. Did he always plan on fucking me over? Did he ever care?—”
“Don’t go down that hill,” I whisper, and anguish lines his features. The raw hurt gleaming in his eyes causes my heart to sink, and I reach over and twine my fingers with his. “Cherish the good times you had with him.”
He lets out a harsh exhale, and I give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to cherish any memory I had with him. Everything’s been tainted.”
“He was your friend. He just wasn’t a good one,” I reply softly. “But you loved him for a reason. You clearly cared about him,” I insist when he opens his mouth to object. “It doesn’t say much about his character, but it speaks volumes about yours.”
For a moment, he’s lost in thought, his brows drawn together in concentration. After a long, long beat, he gives me a sideways glance and softens his gaze. “You’re too good for me, you know that? I don’t know how I’ve managed to land a girl as kindhearted as you, but know that I’ll never take it for granted. Any of it.”
“I know that. I’m all in with you for a reason,” I tease, rolling my eyes good-naturedly, and he husks out an amused chuckle. “Just don’t break my heart and we should be good.”
“ Never .” His response is immediate. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Reese’s Pieces.”
With one final squeeze, I slip my hand out of his and start the car. “Ready to get out of here?”
In response, his eyes crinkle at the corners while his lips curve into his familiar, crooked grin. “Let’s fiesta.”