CHAPTER 24
Lila
“C ome again?”
Mariah looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
To be fair, the words that have just left my mouth aren’t exactly normal.
I take another bite of my sandwich. This morning, I texted my best friend asking for an emergency lunch break. I picked her up from the tattoo parlor, wearing a calm and collected mask so my dad wouldn’t suspect I was freaking out on the inside. But with just the two of us alone now at a café down the block, I allow myself to be a bit more of a mess.
“He asked me to go to a boxing lesson with him,” I repeat, although I know she heard me the first time.
I don’t blame her for thinking she heard wrong, though. It is kind of unexpected.
Mariah gives me her signature pointed look. “A boxing lesson. With your internship supervisor. Who you’re co-parenting a puppy with. Who you kissed .”
“I didn’t technically kiss him. It was just a quick brush of the lips.”
“That’s what kissing means.”
I ignore her. “And we’re not co-parenting , Riah. Jeez.” Although Ginny does feel like mine sometimes. “I’m just teaching him how to be a dog dad. Let’s not have this conversation again.”
Over the past month, I’ve kept her in the loop about everything Ginny-related. She’s always asking me for pictures and all kinds of updates, in which she never fails to ask me about Puppy Daddy.
The things a girl has to endure for her best friend.
“We’re totally having this conversation again,” she retorts, “because this is your supervisor we’re talking about. Do you realize he’s, like, the one man you shouldn’t get involved with? What happened to your lifelong plan of ignoring him?”
“I don’t know. It’s just…” I take a few seconds to organize my scrambled thoughts. “Ignoring him was the plan. But then I realized he was teaching me so many things, and I was behaving like a petulant child, so I told myself I’d start getting a bit closer. Convinced myself the world wouldn’t end if I acted like a normal person around him.”
Riah makes a humming noise as she sips from her iced tea. “That was the right call. I’m just saying, maybe the lines are a bit blurred now. You need to be careful.”
“Reed was part of my life before I became his intern, in a way. And we’ve been put in weird situations, like finding Ginny, that kind of brought us together.”
She frowns. “But Oliver said—”
“Oliver doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I interrupt. “He’s just saying things because he feels rejected. I’m not sleeping with Reed.”
“I won’t judge you if you are,” my best friend says. “I believe you if you say nothing’s happened between you aside from the brush of lips , but if it does, I want to be the first one to know.”
I feel my cheeks warming up. “Nothing else will happen between us. We’ve been keeping our distance for the past few weeks. It’s like the almost kiss never happened, and I’m fine with that.”
Liar .
“Just be careful,” she repeats, sounding so serious that my sandwich starts turning in my stomach. “Okay, enough about Reed. I have something to tell you.”
“Oh?”
“The day has finally come—our dads want to retire next year.”
I freeze.
Retiring .
Next year.
It’s not like I expected my dad to work forever. He’s been a tattoo artist for the past thirty years? Forty? Many people are surprised when they find out he and Uncle Trey are still working after so long.
“Are you about to have a meltdown?” Mariah’s voice breaks through the fog in my brain. “Because I get it. That was my exact reaction, too.”
“It’s just…” I shake my head. “ Weird .”
“Tell me about it.”
“What’s going to happen with Inkjection?”
My dad opened the shop thirty-something years ago, and eventually, Uncle Trey became a co-owner. Inkjection has been the most popular tattoo parlor in town for decades, so much so that professional athletes and celebrities travel all the way here just to get their ink on their bodies. I doubt they’ll want to shut it down and throw all that away, but…
My best friend shrugs. “They haven’t told us anything else. The staff, I mean. They might be still deciding.”
It surprises me that my dad hasn’t told me about this himself, but I get it. The control freak in me hates changes, and I suppose he doesn’t want to upset me before he has a clear idea of what he wants to do. But I’m definitely talking to him about this the next time we see each other.
Him not being a tattoo artist anymore isn’t the end of the world, but it feels like the end of a chapter. And so the weight in my stomach gets a little heavier.
***
“Are you sure she’s okay?”
I sneak glances at Liam’s tiny office in the gym, where Ginny’s playpen is currently set up.
“Eyes on me, little criminal.” Reed’s deep voice sends chills down my spine. “You’re not getting out of this gym without knowing how to throw a punch.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Remind me again why I’m here in the first place?”
Not that I’m complaining. Liam and Warren have been nothing but welcoming since I stepped foot in their gym. And Reed…
Let’s just say the size of his naked biceps will forever stay engraved in my brain, which is both a blessing and a curse.
“Because you need a way out for all that pent-up stress,” he says, that powerful body towering over me. “Have you seen how calm Cameron is lately? Thank boxing.”
That much is true. Cameron can’t stop talking about how much he loves boxing and how he looks forward to his lessons.
“You don’t have to come back if you don’t like it,” Reed adds.
“All right,” I agree, if only because he always seems to know what’s good for me.
It was no wonder I felt so anxious all the time when I didn’t sleep enough or eat balanced meals. I’m making an effort to go to bed earlier, eat at least three full meals a day, and spend some time outside. For now, it seems to be enough.
He passes me the cotton wraps and starts folding them around his hand, instructing me how to do it. His strong hand and the reminder of how it feels against my skin are enough to distract me three times, which is how many times he has to start over because I’m not paying attention.
By the time I’ve somehow managed to secure the wrap correctly on my left hand, I’m already exhausted.
“Do my other hand? Please?” I’m not above begging him for it.
He sends me a look. “You’re capable of doing it yourself.”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “I’ve also had a very long day and would appreciate a little spoiling.”
He barks out an unexpected laugh. “All right. Come here.”
A shiver skids down my spine when his hand swallows my much smaller one. He takes his time with the wrapping, and so what if I don’t want him to finish just to keep feeling his warmth?
He’s silent as he does it but not stoic. He seems to be in a better mood today, which is why I ask, “So, what got you into boxing?”
I feel his touch tensing for a second before it goes back to normal.
“I had my first lesson when I was Cameron’s age,” he explains.
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t, which makes me even more intrigued.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I tease him.
I’m not dumb—there’s something about Reed’s past he’s not telling me. Not that he has to. It’s just that I’ve opened up so much about my own fears and insecurities to him—and he’s been nothing but supportive to me—that I thought…
Reed doesn’t owe me anything. And it’s probably for the best if we don’t get any closer, although pulling back from our maybe-friendship doesn’t feel right.
“I was an angry kid growing up. Until I started boxing, that is.”
Reed is one of the most laid-back men I know, so his admission surprises me.
“Is that why you wanted to help Cameron so badly?”
He finishes wrapping the bands around my hand and takes a step back.
“I want to help all the children equally, but I do see myself in Cameron at times.” He clears his throat. “Let’s get started.”
For the next fifty minutes, I try to convince myself Reed doesn’t want to kill me—nothing could’ve prepared me to feel how unfit I am. Sweat collects in every crevice of my body, and my lungs struggle to take a simple breath.
“It’s normal to be out of breath if you haven’t exercised in a while,” he reassures me when I almost pass out after warm-ups. Warm-ups .
My mom and my aunt have done ballet their whole lives, but it’s never appealed to me. Despite my mom being a part-time ballet instructor when I was little, she never forced me into one of her classes because she knew it wasn’t my thing. I played all sorts of sports growing up—volleyball, swimming, ice skating—but ever since I started college, I haven’t had the time to work out again.
So even if by the twenty-minute mark I’m already breathless—who knew throwing punches would be so exhausting?—I’ll admit I’ve missed getting out of the house to do something else other than studying. I’m stronger than I thought, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t get giddy at Reed’s approving smirks as my technique improves.
It’s not surprising that Reed was right once again—by the time we’re done with the lesson, my stress levels have considerably depleted. My chest feels lighter, despite having to relearn how to breathe normally.
After Warren joins us for some cooldown exercises, I hurry to unwrap the bands from my hands and go find Ginny in Liam’s office.
“Hi, girlie,” I coo as she starts whimpering and wagging her tail when she spots me. She wastes no time licking my face as soon as I pick her up.
Liam laughs. “Man, I miss it when my dogs were pups. Now they’re too grown to lick Dad’s face.”
I pet Ginny’s fur as I hold her against my chest like a baby. “How many dogs do you have?”
“My girl doesn’t allow me to have more than four, so four it is.”
“That’s…intense.”
He barks out a laugh. “Wouldn’t change a thing, though.” His lips tilt into a soft smile. “She’s such a good pup. Barely noticed she was here at all.”
“She’s tired after playing around with other dogs in daycare, aren’t you?” I kiss the top of her fluffy head.
“I’m surprised Reed agreed to take her in after—”
Liam’s words come to an abrupt stop, as if he had just realized he’s not allowed to finish that sentence. His smile doesn’t look as genuine as he says, “He’s a busy man. I didn’t think he’d have the time for a puppy.”
I’m surprised Reed agreed to take her in after…
After what?
Does it explain why he was so freaked out by Ginny when she first got here? Why he’s still kind of fidgety around her?
Before I can dig deeper, a deep, familiar voice asks behind me, “Lila. Can I talk to you before you leave?”
My heart is still racing with uncertainty as I nod.
Liam takes the cue and grabs Ginny from my arms. “I’ll take her outside to see if she needs to use the toilet.”
Once he leaves, Reed leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “How did you like the lesson?”
“I can barely stand on my own two feet, but weirdly enough, I feel great. I feel more…”
“Optimistic?” He throws me a knowing smirk. “Happy? Calm?”
“No wonder Cameron has improved so much.” A light bulb goes on in my head. “Has Melody signed up for any boxing lessons?”
“Not that I know of. Do you think she’d be a good fit?”
“Totally.” I beam. “I think boxing could help her with her self-confidence. Should I talk to her about it?”
His smirk is nothing short of devastatingly handsome. “I think that’s a great idea.”
His praise makes my stomach sizzle with the kind of nerves I felt when I stood between his legs in his office, his body a breath away from mine.
“I wanted to talk to you about your thesis,” he adds, taking me by surprise.
“What do you mean?”
For weeks, Reed has insisted—to no avail—on reading my thesis. At the risk of missing out on his feedback, I refused to send it to him until I had submitted it to my supervisor first. As much as we’ve grown closer, I didn’t want him to have any kind of involvement with my thesis.
“I’ll email you the details later, but I’ll be speaking at a conference in the first week of December—the Youth Counseling Expo. There’s a call for papers for graduate students. I thought maybe you’d be interested,” he explains, reminding me of Karla mentioning she wanted to apply too.
My mouth feels too dry. “The YCE?”
He nods. “In Chicago. If your thesis is selected, they’ll cover your travel and hotel expenses.”
The YCE. In Chicago. With Reed.
Am I dreaming?
“I…” I blink. “I don’t know if my thesis would be good enough for that.”
“Do me a favor and apply anyway.”
I bite my tongue as the word but is about to leave my mouth. Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the boxing lesson, or maybe it’s the fact that I’m finally recognizing my self-worth, but I don’t want to let my insecurities get in the way of something I want to do. Not this time.
With a new resolve, I tell him, “I’ll have to talk to my supervisor about it, but I’m definitely interested.”
His smile tells me he also sees the internal shift in me. “Good. Keep me updated.”
Later that night, after he emails me all the information for the conference, I spend an hour scrolling in bed, trying to picture myself in an auditorium full of people who are interested in what I have to say.
For once, I can see it.