Chapter 3 #2
As usual, Reed was full of surprises. I ignored his insult as my eyes scanned over his large frame. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I guess that’s your car out in the lot, the Bugatti Chiron. Very impressive.”
I poised myself for the inevitable, my body going into overdrive.
Reed in the flesh was still overwhelming as he stood there looking all brooding and tortured.
His face was twisted as he closed the space between us and stopped in front of me.
Casting a bored glance out the window to where his wheels were, he provoked.
“It’s amazing what money can buy, isn’t it? ” His tone hinted at nastiness.
My defenses dipped. “I didn’t mean it like that, Reed.” My stomach suddenly felt like an over-shaken Coke bottle.
Folding his arms over his chest, he quirked me a look. “Shouldn’t that be Mr. Prescott?
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Touche.” Reed had always been so good at turning the tables and knocking the confidence right out of me.
A silence fell between us as we embroiled ourselves in a staring contest. I would not be the first to look away.
Finally, Reed dropped his arms and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“So how do you want to do this?” he asked with a glance around the room.
The office was being painted, and so I was using that space temporarily.
They called it the film room, as there was a large TV mounted on the wall next to a whiteboard.
It was the place where the team and their coaches would watch game footage and discuss techniques.
“Do we dance around our history like it never fucking happened?”
My shoulders stiffened at the harshness in his tone. “Maybe, we shouldn’t do this?”
Reed cut me an exasperated look. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Do I really have to dumb it down for you?”
“Still a little bitch, I see.”
“I’m saying maybe you should transfer?” I suggested walking around the desk.
Reed’s nose crinkled as his gaze followed me, and he frowned. “Again? I just got here.” He was acting stupid on purpose: same old Reed.
Lingering over my chair but not sitting down, I explained. “I know what you’re doing. I don’t mean teams, I mean counselors. I’m a professional, and I’m usually good at separating my personal life from my business life. But I can’t do that if you intend to be difficult.”
Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Reed strolled to stand at the other side of the table, next to the large leather chair I used for clients. “Difficult?”
“Yes, due to our past.” I placed my palms on the desk to stop myself from fidgeting.
Reed rubbed his jaw with one hand, replying. “Surely that’s a good thing, that we have a past? It means you know me better. That should only strengthen our relationship.”
I smirked at that one. “Relationship? I had no place in your life beyond the bedroom door.” I knew that wasn’t true; if anything, I was the one who treated Reed like he was sexual merchandise.
He didn’t like that and raised an eyebrow.
“I meant our professional relationship. Hey, don’t look so disappointed.
Say the word, and you can have me any way you want me, baby.
Just like old times.” That wicked look he sent me brought back a flurry of sinful memories.
I had missed having that closeness, the feel of Reed’s strong arms as he told me everything would be OK.
And it usually was, until the news of Jasper coming back from Connecticut came out.
Thinking of my fiancé, I cut Reed a look. “I’m getting married, remember?”
My words didn’t have the intended effect as he smirked.
“Yeah, you said that four years ago. I still don’t see a ring on your finger.
” His eyes flicked towards my hand, and I lifted my palms off the table and fisted them by my sides.
“Where’s the diamond you flashed at me the day you broke my heart? ”
Ouch, that was below the belt!
Raising my chin, I glared across the table at him. “I don’t wear it to work in case it gets lost. It cost a small fortune.”
Reed gave me a bright smile then, and my tummy flipped.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.
” Rocking back on his heels, he then added.
“So how is he? The fiancé? Clearly shit in the sack if your level of uptight is anything to go by.
What's the matter, Loverboy, waiting until after you exchange vows to dick you?” A dark edge surrounded those words. Anxiety ballooned in my chest.
Reed had always been made up of a goodness that I would never understand, but the man who stood before me was different. The guy was all sharp edges and brought something entirely different to the table, and only time would reveal what that was.
Phoenix’s words came to mind, “Maybe he’s back to settle an old score.”
My half-brother’s comment hadn’t surprised me.
Out of all the Sawyer boys, Nix was all about vengeance.
He was big and loud and didn’t suffer fools.
Hudson was the sociopath, Micah was the jester of the bunch, and Reed?
Reed had always been the quietest and most withdrawn. You never knew what he was thinking.
He could easily be plotting your downfall.
“He’s fine,” I explained, tightly, pushing away thoughts of revenge. My eyes narrowed as Reed perched his hip against the armrest of the leather chair he should have been sitting in.
“Just fine? That sounds as dull as shit.” His eyes then glittered with amusement, and my breath caught in the back of my throat as he said, “So how does he match up in the bedroom department?” I swallowed and crossed my arms over my chest as Reed’s eyes dipped to my breasts, feeling the urge to hug myself.
My silk blouse was slightly see-through, and I felt a flare of annoyance.
I was like a soldier without his armour, and Reed knew it.
“That’s none of your business, and you need to stop looking at me like that.”
He shot me a surprised expression. Bastard. “Like what?”
Peering down my nose, I pointed out. “You know what, Reed?” I could see beneath that charming mask he wore to the danger beneath.
Reed drew his bottom lip into his mouth and then chuckled. “You should see your face. Relax, I’m just remembering how good we were together. Where’s the harm in that?”
I released a puff of air and moved to open my laptop. “You need to forget about the past; it isn’t important anymore.” I tried to make my voice sound totally uninterested.
After a beat, Reed added. “What if I can’t?”
Raising my head, I honed my poker face and went all business. “Look, can we at least start again? Why don’t you take a seat?” I said, motioning towards the leather chair with my hand.
Reed turned to glance down at it with a curious air. “The Freudian Couch, should I be nervous?” he asked, glancing back to face me.
My brow scrunched. “No, of course not.” I then sat down and pulled my laptop forward, hoping Reed would do the same. And thankfully, he did.
I kept my focus on the screen as I logged in.
“I must say, I’m impressed, Doc. I thought you’d go down the social media influencer route,” Reed snarked with insulting ease.
I flicked him an icy look. “Don’t confuse me with the silly bits of fluff you knock around with. And besides, you can talk. I’ve seen how many followers you have on TikTok.”
My words were supposed to make him embarrassed, but they just rolled off his back as he shrugged. “I don’t post shit. My PR team does.”
A silence stretched as I made a few notes.
“So, how does this work?” Reed asked with a yawn. Even though he was the one asking for direction, I felt like the patient. How had our roles reversed so quickly?
Because you can’t think straight around this boy, and it’s always been that way.
I leaned back in my seat and regarded him over the laptop. “Have you never had therapy before?”
“Nope,” he replied, leaning back into the leather of the chair. His cavalier attitude didn’t match how the session was supposed to go. Most men in his position now usually had a degree of uncertainty. But no, not Reed. Never him.
At least he was in the chair. Feeling confident that I could handle him, I attempted to shift the focus towards the purpose for that session. “If you’ve never seen a therapist, what do you do to improve your mental health and emotional well-being?”
And of course, Reed monopolised the discussion as he saw fit. “I usually take care of that in the shower.”
Sighing, I banged the space bar on my keyboard. “Does everything have to be about sex with you?” I explained, giving him a tired look.
“Sex with me? Now you’re talking.”
I gave him the death stare I was famous for at school.
Reed’s face brightened further; he was clearly amused. “Hey, you asked.”
Swallowing, I pursed my lips, running my eyes across his shoulders. He was tense even though he tried to mask that. “What about coping strategies? How do you unwind when you’re stressed? And don’t say, in bed. You’ve already used that card.”
He dashed his knuckles across his nose. “I wasn’t going to say that. On the field.”
At last, we were getting somewhere. “By playing ball?” I added, my fingers hitting the keys to capture some more notes.
Reed grunted, lifting one sneaker-encased foot and resting it on his other knee. “Nope. When I’m unleashing hell on the opposition.”
I stopped typing, straightening in my seat as our eyes reconnected. “Unleashing hell on the opposition? I thought your issues were solely with Kyle Anderson?”
“Well, yeah, there’s that prick, and then there’s beating the living shit out of other dirty players.
” I noticed Reed had started to shake the foot that sat on his knee.
That body language suggested a deep-rooted frustration.
I added that to my notes. “And anyway, the last time I danced with Anderson, I lightly tapped him.” It was clear from his harsh tone that there was no love lost there. “Fucking momma's boy.”