Chapter 18
Eighteen
Reese had stopped trying to make sense of the last two weeks. At this point, she was just going with it.
Which is how, on a casual Saturday, she found herself in the small dining room at the inn with Hallie, her mom, and Sydney’s mom, Rachel.
“Do you think Sydney is having FOMO?” Hallie asked before shoveling a large bite of lobster roll, one of the inn’s specialties, into her mouth.
“She probably wasn’t until you just sent her a barrage of group photos,” Reese said at the same time she kept an eye on the line of sight she had to the check-in desk.
But Hallie beat her to it, standing up and scurrying off when she noticed a guest heading to checkout.
Really, she’d never expected this would be where her life would end up.
A healthy relationship with her mother, who still, two weeks later, hadn’t relented and returned to her father.
She and Hallie were better than ever at working in sync, and she was proud of herself for the rhythm they’d developed.
But the dark horse of the month was Rachel King, who, after their first meeting, was like an entirely different person with her.
She had a sneaking suspicion that she had Sydney to thank for that, but an admission, even under duress, had not been forthcoming.
Her mom and Rachel were in a heated conversation about something insignificant that had happened in Stoneport more than twenty years ago, so she could easily slip her phone out of her pocket when she felt it vibrate.
Sydney King - 2:15 p.m.
I feel like your mom shouldn’t have bothered moving back home, given all the time she’s spending at the inn
Reese Devereux - 2:15 p.m.
Is this your way of saying you feel left out? I owe Hallie five bucks. I didn’t think you’d admit it.
Sydney King - 2:15 p.m.
I feel… like I’m in a parallel universe. All of you together, and I’m waiting in hair and makeup to do a dry run for tomorrow’s start
Sydney had been gone since Wednesday, heading to the event early to prepare for her first time as a commentator.
There was no doubt in Reese’s mind that she’d kill it once the matches started, but she did understand how it all must feel a little absurd to someone who used to compete there as an athlete.
Reese Devereux - 2:16 p.m.
You’re going to be amazing, I have no doubt. How’s it going?
They’d talked on the phone every night since Sydney had been gone, but her schedule was generally jam-packed with screen tests, meeting the other commentators, and going over the best practices for on-air behavior.
Sydney King - 2:16 p.m.
They act like I don’t know anything about tennis! There was even a session on not accidentally making sexual innuendos!
Reese Devereux - 2:16 p.m.
***
Reese waited with bated breath for Sydney’s response to come through, smiling down at her phone.
“Wonder who you’re messaging?” her mom asked with a look on her face that said the statement was absurdly rhetorical. This was further amplified by how she didn’t even give Reese a chance to respond, instead turning right back to Rachel to pick up their conversation.
In her wildest dreams, Reese had never considered that her mom would be making fun of her for having a lovesick smile on her face.
For so many reasons. For one thing, Reese never thought they’d be around one another for long enough for her mom to see it.
Not to mention how she never expected them to be close enough that her mom would feel comfortable doing it.
And, lastly, until Sydney, there’d never been a look like this to see. No silly smiles. No dopey grins. No losing herself in the memory of an especially soft morning or debauched night. Sometimes the other way around, too.
Reese couldn’t get enough of it. Couldn’t get enough of Sydney .
How she made her breath skitter and her knees wobble and her body pulse with need.
Over the last two weeks, things had only intensified. Reese hadn’t returned to her own room. Her mom had vacated it about a week ago, insisting on returning to her home regardless of whether Reese’s dad decided to show up there or not.
But after a week of going to bed and waking up in Sydney’s arms, sleeping in a lonely bed was far from an attractive proposition .
Deep down, Reese still didn’t know how this would all end. If Sydney did pick up the commentary job full-time, there’d be a lot of nights, entire weeks even, spent apart.
So with that thought, she told herself that it was okay to throw herself into the time they did have, that it was the practical thing to do.
She’d rather feel good in the immediacy and rip the Band-Aid off at some unknown later date than temper her emotions now to make the eventual comedown less intense.
Reese had become a wanton woman, and she had no problem acting the part.
Finally, she felt her phone vibrate again.
Sydney King - 2:19 p.m.
Sorry, they had to explain to me that I should “warm up my voice” to prepare for talking for long periods of time
Reese Devereux - 2:19 p.m.
Did you explain to them that you’ve been doing daily vocal exercises?
Sydney King - 2:19 p.m.
I don’t think that screaming your name while I come counts…
Reese Devereux - 2:19 p.m.
But you do it over and over again…
Desire sluiced through Reese’s veins, heady and potent as she typed the words. She could hear perfectly how Sydney said her name when they had sex. Sometimes it was breathy and wanting. Other times it was guttural and hedonistic.
But it was always hot. So, so hot.
And she couldn’t get enough of it. Three days ago, she’d lain in bed with Sydney, and everything had felt so right.
The sex. The compatibility. The support .
All she wanted to do was wrap herself up in the way Sydney made her feel forever. Or at least for as long as she could.
Sydney King - 2:20 p.m.
Bad. And unfair, considering I have to practice in a minute and my body is on fire. I probably look like a tomato.
Reese Devereux - 2:20 p.m.
A cute tomato, undoubtedly.
Sydney King - 2:20 p.m.
Takes one to know one. I’m sure you’re not getting out of this unscathed.
Sydney really did have her number because Reese could feel her own flush, her pulse thrumming intently as she imagined—and missed—the sound of Sydney's voice.
Sydney King - 2:21 p.m.
Send me a pic later?
Reese Devereux - 2:21 p.m.
You just got a pic of all of us.
Sydney King - 2:22 p.m.
You know that’s not what I mean. No pressure, but I miss you. And you’re teasing me and you know it, which I am not complaining about by the way.
Sydney King - 2:22 p.m.
To be very clear: TEASE AWAY.
On top of Reese’s own arousal, it felt good to feel wanted, to know that Sydney was missing her and thinking of her and wanted to see her. But it also made her nervous. She felt exposed at the idea of upping the ante on their text-based flirting.
But she could do it. She wanted to do it.
Reese Devereux - 2:23 p.m.
I will. It may have to be tomorrow because I have Brynn’s bachelorette thing tonight.
Reese intentionally called it a ‘thing’ because the plan for this evening was fairly unorthodox, as far as modern bachelorette parties went.
Sydney King - 2:23 p.m.
OH MY GOD HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN!
Brynn, Reese had learned earlier this week, wanted to have a slumber party.
Reese Devereux - 2:23 p.m.
You’re lucky that you were out of town because you were invited, too.
Sydney King - 2:24 p.m.
And what a tragedy I can’t attend. But i’m sure you’ll fill me in on everything. Promise?
Sydney King - 2:24 p.m.
I’ve gotta run. Miss you 3
Feeling wholly unsatisfied that their conversation was over, Reese begrudgingly put her phone down and tuned back into the conversation.
They were discussing her mom’s next steps, as far as divorce went.
Never a dull moment with this crowd.
“I’ve reached out to a few lawyers,” Sharon was saying. “Tripp is still refusing to accept the reality of the situation.”
Reese snorted, and both pairs of eyes turned toward her. At the same time, Hallie ambled back into the dining room and took her seat at the table .
“I mean, he’s used to getting what he wants. I’m sure he’s not going to make this easy if he doesn’t want it.”
“I’m really proud of your mom for sticking to her guns,” Rachel said, casting a sympathetic but supportive look at Reese’s mom. “Sometimes, standing up for ourselves is far harder than doing it for other people.”
Well, hadn’t those two just become thick as thieves these past few weeks. Still, Reese was glad her mom had someone outside of her normal social circle to provide unbiased support. A lot of the wives in Stoneport and Boston would find her mom’s decision unimaginable.
“I’m proud of you, too, Mom,” Reese said, and meant it.
Her mom blushed at all the attention, clearly wishing it would end. “Anyway, what time are you heading to Brynn’s?”
The slumber party, which Reese was truly trying to get on board with, was at Brynn’s apartment in Cambridge.
“I’m leaving at seven,” she said, checking her watch. “I guess the good news is that I don’t need to get all dolled up.”
“Gonna wear your jammies there?” Hallie teased.
Reese groaned. “I’m trying to be a good sport about this, but I am not planning on spending the night. I think Brynn will understand.”
“She’s sweet,” her mom cut in, adding, “maybe a little naive.”
This time, Reese let out an indignant scoff. “Look, I don’t disagree, but she’s still going through with marrying Grant. I think we’re moving beyond naivety and bordering on stu?—”
“Reese,” her mom chided, cutting her off.
“I like her,” Reese defended her word choice, “but after Grant’s show a few weeks ago at the couple’s shower, you cannot tell me, honestly, that you aren’t thinking the same thing.”
The difficulty about tonight came, more than anything, from the fact that Brynn was still going through with the wedding. It was clear that Grant didn’t prioritize her. That he didn’t have much respect for her. And that, on top of it all, he could care less about her feelings .
A real catch, her brother was.