Chapter 15 Hazel #2
Reid’s house smelled amazing. I slipped off my shoes and tucked them neatly into the cabinet by the door, resisting the urge to leave them kicked off in the middle of the floor like I usually did. No way was I messing up his perfectly tidy vibe. I would be a good house guest if it killed me.
“How was your day?” Reid asked when I strolled into the main living area. The scent of onions and butter wafted through the air. I breathed it in as I collapsed on one of the stools surrounding the island.
“Long. My last client came in with a hair emergency and it took me two hours to fix.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Two hours? I think I’d lose my mind if I had to sit still for that long.”
“We threw on that trashy reality show, Tough Love, and talked through it the whole time. It was kind of fun.”
I pulled out my phone to show him the before and after pictures. She’d left with healthier hair than she’d come in with. It was now a soft, chestnut brown that fit her features a lot better than the harsh red. I was proud of that.
Reid squinted at it, the glare reflecting in his glasses. “That’s incredible. Her hair looked about ready to fall off in the before shot.”
“Don’t bleach your hair at home,” I said, setting my phone face down.
He turned his back to me to shake the pan. “Why do I feel like you don’t follow your own advice?”
“Hairdressers abide by a different set of rules,” I said, thinking fondly of the time I had tried to do a rainbow underlayer at home for Pride month. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nope, almost done. Hope you’re hungry, because I made way too much pasta. Apparently, I can either cook for one person or a dozen, there is no in-between.”
I smiled. “That’s alright. I’ll happily eat for at least three. Can I send you some money for groceries, or—”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he cut me off.
I had tried to broach the subject of money with Reid twice before now.
He was letting me stay in his house rent free, he was helping me out of the goodness of his heart, and now he was feeding me.
I owed him. Big time. Even though he said I didn’t, I refused to be someone who took advantage of someone’s good nature.
I’d think of a way to make it up to him, somehow.
“Do you cook much?” he asked.
“Does boxed mac and cheese count?”
He poured the onions into a larger pot and stirred its contents. “Hazel,” he scolded. “You should know how to cook.”
It should have concerned me how much I loved when he used that slightly stern tone with me.
“I’ve dabbled here and there, but usually everything I make turns out meh. No one ever taught me. Gran was never much of a talent in the kitchen either. Her idea of a homecooked meal was a pot of hamburger helper or jarred alfredo sauce.”
And what I wouldn’t give to taste one of her store-bought-homecooked meals again. They were the definition of comfort food for me.
Reid scanned my face before setting down the spatula on a rubber mat. “I could teach you. If you wanted, that is. I’m not saying I’m a gourmet chef or anything, but I like to cook.”
Ugh, see? So freaking nice. This guy was literally irresistible. “That could be fun,” I said. Reid shot me a shy smile and something warm settled into my gut and made itself at home.
Reid continued to cook while I went to get the plates down from his perfectly organized cabinets. The big, thick ones were just out of my reach, so without thinking, I hiked up my knee to rest on the counter and hoisted myself up a few inches to grab them before jumping down again.
“Hazel!” Reid barked, behind me in an instant.
“Shit,” I scrambled backward, nearly dropping the plates. “I’m sorry.” Crap, had I grossed him out by putting my knee on the counter, or something? I hadn’t even thought twice about it. It was my go-to maneuver for reaching into high cabinets.
“Careful,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ask me to get them next time, or we can get you a stool.”
“Oh, um…” My voice trailed off. Was he…worried about my safety? I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I settled on, “Alright.”
We ate our steaming bowls of garlicky penne at the table, a habit I realized I quite liked. Maybe it was Reid’s company, but there was something cozy about sitting down at a table for a meal. It made it easier to focus on each other, to actually talk without distractions.
He set a piece of bread onto my plate as we started effortlessly rehashing the details of our days, trading little stories and observations. It felt ordinary in the most special way possible.
“I can’t believe you saw Paul at the gym,” I said after we were both onto our second servings.
I had been delaying bringing this up. First, because I was slightly worried Reid would judge me for dating someone who looked and acted like Paul.
And second, because I knew he was absolutely going to hate the idea I was about to propose.
I swear I saw his jaw tense. “No offense, Hazel, but that guy seems like a jerk.”
A laugh escaped me. “No offense taken. He kind of is.”
With the food cleared from both of our plates, I got up, grabbed Reid’s, and carried them over to the dishwasher.
“So, I have an idea.” My words were cautious.
Reid being too observant for his own good, immediately narrowed his eyes.
“What?” There was more apprehension in that word than I would have thought possible.
“Just hear me out,” I said while grabbing the pan and putting the leftovers into a glass container he’d gotten out earlier.
He lifted his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I already don’t like the sound of this.”
I carried on anyway. “Paul is at the gym constantly; you saw it yourself. And since he isn’t taking the bait with our fake catfish profile, maybe it’s time we took a more hands-on approach.”
“No.”
“I know where he lives. It’s not far from here. We can just wait until he posts a gym selfie, rush on over, and peek through a window. See if we see anything.”
“No.”
“He lives alone, last I checked. He also lives on the first floor. It would be so easy just to take a quick look.” I batted my eyelashes innocently, as if I didn’t know how opposed Reid would be to this idea.
Reid let out a sigh that must have completely emptied the air from his lungs. To my surprise, he sat there in silence for a moment, his eyes zoning out as if he were mulling over the risks.
“Please?” I pushed, sensing his wavering resolve. “We’re getting down to the wire here.”
His eyes met mine. “You just want to peek through the window?” he clarified.
“That’s it, I swear.” I crossed my heart. “No confrontations will be had. He won’t even be there.”
He rubbed his chin. When his shoulders sagged in defeat, I knew I had him. A small squeal escaped me as I clapped.
“You’re a little too excited about this for my liking,” he said.
“I’m only excited at the thought of actually finding Vermont and putting this whole thing to bed.”
Which was true. Mostly. I did want this to be over, and I wanted Gran’s cat—my cat—back, more than anything.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a small thrill from investigating with Reid.
There was something exciting about the idea that an answer could be waiting around any corner.
Sure, it was crushing when we hit dead ends, but Reid had this way of keeping my hope alive.
Like we were getting closer, even when we weren’t.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
But I was pretty sure I already had him.