Chapter 17 Hazel #2
His eyes flickered to mine, not leaving this time. I felt pinned underneath his gaze.
“Really, though,” I said, rambling. “Gran was always there for me the best she could be. I was happy growing up. I just—I guess, sometimes I wanted more.”
Guilt consumed me saying those words out loud. As if Gran hadn’t sacrificed so much to give me the childhood I’d had. A tear slipped down my cheek.
“Hey,” Reid said gently. My breath caught in my throat when he stepped closer, reaching out to brush it away. “You can be grateful for everything she gave you and grieve what you never had at the same time.”
I sniffled and pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands.
How could a guy who’d just met me nail my emotions so effortlessly?
That was exactly what it felt like. My whole life, I’d always had certain things in the back of my mind, things I’d felt I was missing.
Parents. A close extended family. A white-picket-fence house in a nice suburb.
A ton of close friends. I loved Gran so much, but I couldn’t completely forget what I lacked.
Then, she was gone.
“Now that she’s gone, I regret ever thinking she wasn’t enough,” I whispered.
Reid crouched down, wrapping me against him. I inhaled his scent, clutching the fabric of his sweater lightly as I let myself get lost in how good he felt. He pulled away too soon. I swiped at my eyes and forced a smile.
“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“Don’t apologize for having feelings, Hazel. Not ever,” he said, still kneeling before me. “And I might not have known your gran, but if the way you speak about her is any indication, you two had a special relationship. I don’t think she doubted for one second how much you loved her.”
“I know…you’re right.”
I gave him a shaky smile, knowing deep down his words were the truth. Gran and I had spoken every day. We had a bond that I’d never get with anyone else. I’d miss her the rest of my life, but I could never let myself doubt that she knew how much I cared.
Reid held my gaze for a breath longer before clearing his throat. He leaned back on his heels before stretching to a standing position.
“So, uh, did you want to go hang those decorations?” His gaze shifted to the paper bags from the thrift store we’d abandoned on the floor next to his couch.
I laughed, wiping the last remaining tear from my cheek. “You’re actually going to let me put those things up in your pristine guest room?”
Reid scratched the back of his neck. “Sure,” he said, but the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek told me he was still reeling with uncertainty.
“I figured you were being polite and would just donate them right back,” I teased, hoisting myself off the chair.
He chuckled “Maybe it’s past time I let some chaos into my life.”
I tried my best not to beam. “I think chaos arrived the moment you agreed to meet me in that diner.”
“And I’m so glad I did.”
My voice caught in my throat. I forced my expression into something neutral, willing myself not to let his words sink too deep.
“Um, let’s do it,” I said, grabbing one of the larger bags that held some of the paintings while he grabbed the lava lamp that I was basically in love with. How I had made it twenty-five years without owning a single lava lamp was beyond me.
Once in the bedroom, I pointed to random spots around the room while Reid held up one of the pictures, waiting for my approval.
Once I gave the okay, he pulled a hammer and a nail from a toolbox I hadn’t even seen him grab.
I blinked. Wow—an actual hole in the wall instead of a sticky hook? Noted. This man was committing.
“Is there a method to your madness? Because the spots you’re choosing are random and not correlated in the slightest.”
“What did you expect? For me to map it all out like a blueprint?”
“Isn’t that the hack for gallery walls? I remember Meghan spending hours planning one out with painter’s tape at our old place.”
“The best method for a gallery wall is to build it slowly, not all at once. You get pieces as they speak to you, and you hang them until they take over the wall, slowly expanding until they form one giant organism. That’s what gives it character.
You can’t just go out, buy all the pieces at once, and hang them in some preplanned way.
That sucks the soul right out of the project. ”
Reid squinted as he held up a nail to the wall and tapped the hammer lightly a few times. “I think that’s exactly what we did at our old house. She even ordered all the prints from the same website.”
I clutched my chest and staggered backward. “Ouch, that hurts.”
Reid laughed.
“It’s a good thing I’m here now,” I continued. “I’ll liven this place up if it kills me.”
After Reid hung the few pictures we’d purchased, he held up the lava lamp. “And what are we doing with this little number?”
I pointed to the bedside table. “Right here.”
He hesitated. “This is not a practical bedside lamp.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too dim. You won’t be able to read from it. You’ll strain your eyes.”
I had to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. He looked so earnest. So deeply concerned for my eyesight.
“Reid, chill out. A lava lamp provides an excellent source of light.”
He did not look like he believed me but went ahead and plugged in the lamp anyway. I turned off the overhead light and told him to switch the new one on. When he did, the room was immediately cast in a pinkish glow. The globs of whatever it was inside a lava lamp began to bubble and move around.
“It’s perfect,” I said, clapping my hands, and moving to stand next to him by the edge of the bed.
“It looks ridiculous,” he said, craning his neck to take in all the additions.
He wasn’t wrong. The walls were stark white, and the ceilings were incredibly high. The few pictures looked almost comically out of place.
I loved it instantly. “You have to start somewhere,” I said.
“Hazel?” Reid asked.
“Yeah?” I looked up at him, suddenly aware of just how close he was. The space between us had all but disappeared, and the bed was right there, just a step away. The air was charged with something unspoken.
“Do yourself a favor and don’t quit your day job, okay? I don’t think you’re cut out for a career in interior design.”
“Excuse you, Mister Beige-and-White-Everything.” I nudged him in the chest.
My heart stuttered as his gaze dropped—just briefly—to my mouth.
Now my imagination was running completely out of control.
I couldn’t stop myself from imagining what it would be like if he leaned in a little closer, eyes locked on mine, then on my lips.
What it would feel like if he finally closed the distance between us and…
Heat flooded my body. Wow. Say what you will about a lava lamp, but this lighting really set the mood.
Reid’s gaze darkened ever so slightly. There was something there, behind his normally buttoned-up exterior. Or was that just wishful thinking on my part? Was I mistaking his kindness for something else entirely?
Then I saw it—a vein in his jaw standing out as he clenched it. That definitely wasn’t my imagination. God, what I wouldn’t give to be the kind of person who could simply stand up on their tiptoes and kiss him without overthinking it. I needed to know what his lips tasted like.
Was he a good kisser? Good in the bedroom?
It had admittedly been a while for me, so it wasn’t shocking that merely being alone in a bedroom with Reid was enough to fire up my imagination.
I’d had approximately three awkward first dates and one terrible second date since Paul and I had broken up.
Only one of those dates had resulted in intimacy, and it was mediocre at best. I hadn’t even come, and he’d barely said goodbye after he pulled out and hightailed it out of my apartment.
Being with Reid would be nothing like that. I knew it in my bones. He would be careful. Thoughtful. He was the type to make sure a partner was alright and take care of her afterward. He wouldn’t rush.
The fantasy had every nerve in my body at attention. Shit. How long had I just been standing here staring at him? I’d be embarrassed, but he was right here with me. We were both drowning in the silence.
Before I could second-guess it, I leaned toward him.
That seemed to break whatever spell we were under. Reid blinked a few times and looked to the wall.
“Well, uh—I’d better get some sleep,” he said, his voice far deeper than it had been a moment ago.
“Oh, yeah, same. I’m pretty tired.” I was not tired in the slightest. It was only eight.
“Goodnight, Hazel.” Instead of brushing past me, he put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.”
“Night, Reid.”
Then he was gone, the only evidence of our moment the intense tingling sensation raging on my shoulder from where he’d just touched it.