Twenty-Three
Reece
The drive back to Wing Haven starts out quiet.
I watched it happen. Exactly what Stacy had warned me about.
I watched her parents actively put her down, compare her to Charlotte, and I know it was just a glimpse into what she’s dealt with her whole life.
I saw the beautiful, strong, self-assured girl I know so well shrink into an unrecognizable version of herself and it made me sick.
I’m still sick over it as we drive down the dark, deserted highway that spans between Columbus and Wing Haven.
“Think Jamie and Mackenzie will stick their cupie tomorrow? It fell a couple times this morning,” I say, trying to break the silence. “Which is weird because I don’t think they’ve had any trouble before. Maybe one of them isn’t feeling well?”
I glance over at Stacy and she just shrugs.
Dammit. I could send Sheryl a very nasty text for making my powerful Stacy retreat back into herself.
“At least our stunts have been solid for the first section of our comp routine. I feel like we could do that bow and arrow in our sleep,” I try again, grinning out the dark windshield.
Stacy just sighs, putting her feet up on my dash and turning up the radio.
Okay, then. Guess we’re riding in silence.
I gnaw on my lip as the dark trees fly by, finally deciding to divulge the information Gemma shared with me the other day at the bar. “Gemma told me that Tashia asks about me a lot,” I finally say in a last-ditch effort to get Stacy’s attention.
It works.
She straightens up in the passenger seat, whipping her head to look at me. “Why the hell does she ask about you?” she seethes and her tone surprises me.
“Whoa,” I chuckle. “Down girl.”
Stacy scoffs. “No. I don’t care if you thought you were going to marry Tashia at one point. That girl did a really shitty thing to you and she doesn’t deserve to ask questions about you,” she huffs.
I raise a brow as Stacy crosses her arms over her chest and sinks back into the seat. I’ve never seen a protective streak in Stacy and her reaction to Tashia makes me think that maybe she really cares about me as a person. Maybe she’s even a little bit jealous?
I like it. Too much.
“Yeah, no, I agree,” I chuckle. “What she did was definitely crappy.”
Stacy rolls her eyes in my peripheral. “Understatement of the century,” she mumbles. “You know, if I had five minutes alone with that girl, I’d—” She cuts herself off.
I thin my lips to keep from laughing. “You’d what?”
“Nothing.” She waves me off. “Sorry, I’m just riled up from my family.”
I hesitate, not wanting to push her if she doesn’t want to talk about it while simultaneously dying to know more. Instead of prying, I go with a simple, “You’re more than how your family makes you feel, Stace.”
She gives me a curt nod and I catch her worrying her bottom lip. I half expect her to open up a little bit more until she hits me with, “What happened? With you and Tashia? With your brother?”
Ah, I suppose we’re turning the trauma dump in my direction.
I clear my throat. “Not much to tell, honestly. Tashia and Evan were sleeping together for the last six or seven months of our relationship. Obviously, I didn’t know until after we broke up.
First time was apparently when we went away to our cabin on Lake Erie over Christmas.
” I shrug. “They both swore they didn’t mean for it to happen, it was late, they were drunk in the hot tub, everyone else had stumbled to bed.
She claimed they sobered up and realized they made a mistake.
“Until it happened again. They were fucking sneaky, I’ll give them that.
Disappearing at family events, meeting halfway for dinner or drinks or to have a quickie in the car.
” My face twists up but I forge on, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.
“I guess their relationship went from just sex to something more. Tashia was planning on breaking it off with me so she could be with Evan but I, uh… I found out before they could tell me.”
Stacy’s a statue beside me, quiet as she waits for me to go on. “How’d you find out?” she finally asks in a small voice.
I blow out a noisy breath and continue staring at the dark road.
“Fourth of July weekend last year. I wasn’t planning on going home because I was supposed to help Miles with this hockey camp for kids.
Tashia’s family had a barbecue planned and she was pretty pissed that I couldn’t make it back to the city so I got out of helping Miles and drove home late the night before the Fourth to surprise her.
I let myself into her parents’ house at midnight and thought she was going to be asleep but, um, I was the one who was surprised.
” I let out a bitter laugh. “I walked into Tashia’s room to find her completely naked on top of my brother.
Not exactly the homecoming I was expecting. ”
Stacy’s small gasp fills the car and I see her turn her whole body to look at me. She’s silent, seemingly evaluating my story until she finally mutters, “ Four minutes alone with that girl.”
My lips quirk up. I’ve never felt joy after retelling that terrible story but Stacy’s reaction is making it hard for me to make room for any negative emotions.
“It’s okay, Stace,” I tell her as she continues to stew. “I’ve worked through my emotions, I’ve worked through my anger. It made me a better, bigger person.”
“You shouldn’t have to be the bigger person,” she snaps. “Tashia and Evan should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness.”
I lift a shoulder. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that sometimes you have to forgive people who don’t necessarily deserve it.”
“You’re a better person than me,” she mumbles.
“Not true,” I tell her with a grin. “I just have too much family trauma to let anything else fuck with the Taylor dynamic.”
Stacy barks out a laugh, staring out of the windshield with her scowl still in place. “I’m so glad you had the sense to flaunt your new relationship in front of their faces.”
“Miles and Drew’s idea,” I tell her .
She ignores the credit I give my friends. “Next time we’re with them, we have to kick it up a notch.”
My brow quirks. “How so?”
Stacy blows out a noisy breath like she’s contemplating her answer. “We need to lean in to the physical touch. You know, hang all over each other. Whatever we need to do to make her jealous.”
I snort. “Stace, I’ve already told you, I don’t want to—”
“Make Tashia jealous, I know.” She waves me off. “But no matter how good of a person you are, I’ve got enough resentment built up for the both of us and I need this.”
I deliberate, trying to choose my next words carefully.
I need this.
I need something else entirely inappropriate but it’s probably best not to bring that up.
“So, lean in to the touching, huh?”
Stacy bobs her head as I turn onto the street our complex is on. “Yeah. We need to hug a lot. Kiss a lot, accidentally get caught in a closet together or something. I’ll sit in your lap, play with your hair, hell, I’ll dry hump you if that’s what it takes.”
Stacy’s tone is comical but her words make my mouth run dry. Just the thought of Stacy in my lap, kissing me, touching me, straddling me, makes my jeans fit a little tighter. It was merely a hypothetical suggestion and yet my heart’s in my throat.
“That could work.” I try to sound normal but my voice wobbles. “Sounds a whole lot like an excuse to me, though.”
She whips her head in my direction as I pull into our complex. “What do you mean?”
I smirk at her because joking around is the only way I’m going to make it out of this conversation alive. “I think you liked kissing me, Stace. And I think you want to do it again.”
Stacy scoffs like the idea is inconceivable. But I see a pink hue touch her cheeks under the glow of the streetlights and I know she very much liked our kiss just as much as I did.
And I liked it too much.
“Kissing you was practically a chore, Reece,” she fronts, jutting her chin up.
“Mhm.” I put my car in park in front of her building, shooting her a droll look. “Then you’re a damn good actress, Stace,” I murmur, my voice low. The soft hum of the radio and the sound of my engine idling fill the car as Stacy seems to evaluate her next words.
She mutters, “I mean, you were a pretty good actor, too.”
“Who said I was acting?”
Stacy’s head whips in my direction and I hear her swallow before she licks her lips. “We have to be very convincing,” she whispers. “Good shows require rehearsals.”
Now it’s my turn to lick my lips as my heart rate picks up. “What are you trying to say, angel?”
I see the rise and fall of Stacy’s chest accelerate, becoming more erratic as she holds eye contact with me. The silence feels static between us before Stacy murmurs, “Maybe we should practice.”
My heart officially leaves my chest, leaves my throat , and jumps out of my body at her suggestion.
We don’t tear our eyes away from each other, the dim glow from the streetlights casting shadows across Stacy’s face.
Her long lashes on her cheeks, the shadow of her adorable nose, the side of her face curtained with some of her blonde hair.
This woman is going to take me to my knees .
“Are you asking me to kiss you, Stacy?” I confirm as I reach my right hand over the console to catch her jawline.
I feel her pulse drumming beneath my fingers as she swallows again, leaning in slowly. “For scientific reasons,” she mutters.
My whole body lights up as I match her movement, leaning in to whisper, “Yeah. For scientific reasons.”
Our lips find each other in the dim light and the sizzle of heat in my car explodes into an unruly wildfire. There’s no build up, there’s no tender, sweet kisses that lead up to an explosion of teeth and tongues and groans.
Instead, we act like we’re both starved for physical affection. We bite at each other’s lips and moan into each other’s mouths like we’ve never been kissed before. I reach up to curl my other hand under her jaw and it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.