Chapter Nineteen - Reese
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Reese
Well, slap my ass and call me Sally.
Or call me shithead for brains.
I keep glancing sideways at Blaire as we scale down the mountain. I keep waiting for a sign to see if she’s caught on to what I’ve just caught on to. Because if she has, then I should just get down on one knee right here and propose. She’d understand why.
“You’re acting weird,” she looks at me through squinted eyes. “Are you regretting the hand-holding?”
I smile broadly, meeting her eyes. She’s squirming a bit now. I can tell this kind of intimacy makes her uncomfortable. And I find it absolutely adorable.
“No, I don’t regret the handholding, Hollywood.” I lace my fingers through hers again, where they should have been the whole damn time. “In fact, I’m going to hold your hand all the way down the mountain.”
“A little impractical, don’t you think?” She says, while stifling a smile.
“Practicality is overrated.”
We continue like this, hand in hand. I enjoy the scenery in a way I couldn’t on the way up because I was too busy staring at the insanely hot dimples she has on her lower back, dreaming of grabbing her from behind and using those dimples as guides for where to put my grip to...
And now I’m not enjoying the scenery yet again.
This whole hike has messed with my head.
Because I’m pretty sure I just realized that we’ve been spending the last year falling in love with Blaire Evans. Which is ironic, because I think we were all in love with her for a long time before that.
Blaire would come into our lives every summer like the damn Perseids meteor shower, lighting everything up and then leaving. It’s the one thing that had us fighting with each other. When she gave one of us more attention and left the other two in the dust, we turned on each other. The three of us have been through a lot of shit. Too much to let anything break us apart. So we swore Blaire Evans off. It didn’t matter though, because she didn’t show her face around here for five damn years.
Then one day, we started talking to someone. All three of us. It had become a thing we danced around. It was just a joke at first. ‘Wouldn’t it be crazy if we were all three with the same woman? , one of us would say when we were having a whiskey after a hard day.
Then we would start to wonder how it would work. Would I get jealous seeing Colt or Briggs with the same woman as me? Could she even handle all three of us?
And I knew when we were having these conversations, we were all imagining the same woman. And we thought, maybe this could be something the next time she comes through. Until she never came back, so fantasizing about her started feeling like we were the same level of pervert as some horny dude jacking off to every bathing suit scene she’s done in her movies .
So we put it out of our minds.
That is until recently, when we started talking to a woman we met in a chatroom. We were just skimming the forum, satisfying our curiosity at first. But then she said something that made us laugh and we started talking. Then we started talking regularly, in our own chat. We got to test out our little fantasy from a safe distance.
Until it started feeling like more. A lot more. We were hooked on her. And we were gearing up to ask her to meet us. Then she dropped the bomb that she was claiming to be Blaire Evans. It’s no secret in this town that the three of us have history with her. We figured someone knew it was us on the other side of the internet and was fucking with us, so we all immediately blocked her.
It’s not definitely her, of course. She said she was only talking to one guy, but that could just be because she’s embarrassed. Because everything else is spot on. I wrack my brain for a way to test my theory.
Before I can, she stops. Our hands tug apart at our disjointed momentum.
“You should know that I slept with Colt last weekend,” she says, red rushing across her clavicle and up her cheeks.
We just stare at each other for a moment, blinking. That is not what I was expecting her to say.
“I can tell by the way you’re holding my hand that maybe you think we might hook up and I just don’t want to cause any issues between you guys like I did last time,” she looks at the ground.
And that’s when I realize we are not on the same fucking page at all. It’s not that she hooked up with Colt. I’m not an idiot and was able to put two and two together that something must have happened between them. The thing that bothers me is that she thinks I’m holding her hand just to fuck her .
“So you hooked up with Colt, then were hoping to meet your mystery guy today, and now you’ve forgotten about him because you think I just want to hold your hand to fuck you?” I clarify what she’s saying back to her.
She stares at me, her mouth moving to say something, but nothing comes out. Then anger washes over her features.
“Slut-shaming is a little outdated, Reese, don’t you think?” She crosses her arms and walks past me down the trail.
“You think that’s what this is?” I follow her. “I don’t give a damn that you slept with Colt.”
“Mm-hmm,” she says mockingly. “I’m sure you don’t give a damn, Reese. Just long enough for you to get yours and have one up on him.”
“God damn it, Blaire,” I say as I try to reign in my anger. “If that’s what you think of us, then why even spend a second of time with us?”
“It’s not like I’ve had much say in the matter!” She shouts back at me.
The truth settles on me like an avalanche. All the signs are there that the men she’s been talking to online are us. She’d have to be a damn idiot to not put it together. And Blaire is no idiot.
So there’s only one other option. She doesn’t want it to be us. She’s convinced herself that there are three other local guys that she has chemistry with, who love the outdoors, and happen to all want to be with her. Anyone but us.
“No problem, Hollywood.” I say, all the fight gone from my voice. “I get it now. I’ll leave you alone.”
She looks at me once before returning her attention back to the trail. And that’s the last time she bothers looking at me for the entire hike back down. She even manages to take a water break without so much as glancing at me.
When we settle ourselves into my Jeep, I don’t even bother turning on the radio, so we just sit in silence. The welcome gate of Rile Ranch is just around the corner and I know that getting home means she very well might pack her things and leave this same day.
I turn the corner and slow down when I see a red convertible pulled over to the side of the road and a woman checking her tire.
“Shit!” Blaire exclaims, her voice crackles from lack of use the past hour. “Turn around!”
I look at her like she’s lost her mind.
“Listen, I know you hate me right now, but please just pull a U-turn and get me the hell out of here.” Her big eyes look at me and I can’t help myself when I see the desperation in them. I whip the car around on the dirt road, seamlessly heading back in the direction we came.
I might not know what the hell is going on, but my shoulders fall with relief that I’m not dropping Blaire off to pack her bags and leave.
“Where to, Hollywood?” I ask, appreciating the ease in her eyes when I do so.
“Somewhere private,” she says, looking behind her to make sure we’re not being followed. “And where no respectable woman would dare go to look for someone.”
I smirk. “I’ve got just the place.”