Thirty-Five
Reece
My heart is in my throat as I follow Stacy up the stairs to my bedroom. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her but it’s clear that something between us needs to be fixed. Now .
We enter my dimly lit room and it looks the same way it did when I was in high school.
A full sized bed pushed into the far left corner, covered in the same navy comforter I’ve had since senior year.
My dresser on the far wall is situated under my window, covered in sports trophies and memorabilia from my time in soccer, football, hockey, cheer.
The dark wood bookshelf to my right holds dozens of books I’ve never read, books Lance insisted on letting me borrow that’ve sat untouched for six years.
The only light permeating the room is from the small lamp sitting on my desk in the corner, the sunlight completely gone thanks to the late fall evening.
It’s all the same as it ever was, a warm sense of nostalgia and melancholy wrapping around my heart.
But that warm feeling is replaced by nerves as Stacy turns around to face me.
I’m nervous to talk to Stacy, to fight with Stacy, to lose Stacy.
But I’m mainly nervous about being in my bedroom alone with Stacy.
My heart pounds as goosebumps pepper my skin and I feel sixteen again.
I feel like I’m back in high school, getting flashbacks to when I brought a girl up to my room for the very first time while my parents were away for their wedding anniversary celebration.
Her name was Hallie Barron, we only dated for a couple of months but we swore we were in love.
Our first time didn’t last long because, well, I was sixteen, give me a break.
Now I’m seven years older, all the more wiser when it comes to women, and somehow still just as nervous as I was all those years ago.
“What do you want to talk about, Reece?” Stacy snaps, bringing me out of my trance. She folds her arms over the velvet red dress she’s wearing, her eyes cold as she watches me.
Breaking down Stacy’s walls is going to be a feat.
I sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Stace.”
Stacy scoffs. “I’m not playing dumb. I just don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to tell me what’s been going on with you. With us . We have a lot to talk about, Stacy.”
Stacy throws her arms up. “Yeah. You caught me. I don’t like Tashia, okay?” she hisses.
I let out a dry chuckle and take a step closer to her. “Whatever’s happening today is so, so much deeper than Tashia pissing you off and you know it.”
Stacy’s shoulders slump like defeat is starting to take over. “What do you want from me, Reece?” she asks desperately .
“What do I want?” Loaded fucking question. “I want you to stop shutting me out, angel. Please .”
“Well, I don’t know what else to do!” she says, her voice strangulated like she’s trying not to yell. “We can’t be together. Propst made that very clear and you have your weird thing with Tashia and—”
“No weird thing with Tashia,” I remind her.
“The lines have gotten all blurry,” she goes on like I didn’t speak. “I’m just… so fucking confused. I don’t know where fake Stacy and Reece end and real Stacy and Reece begin, so it’s better to keep you at arms length so there’s no confusion.”
I raise a brow at her, taking another step closer to her body. “Is it really better, Stace?” I challenge.
“Yes,” she breathes, her chin starting to wobble. “I can’t play games with you, Reece. I’m not strong enough to do the back and forth. I’m too tired to be involved in some will-they-won’t-they situation so it’s better if we set clear and concrete boundaries.”
I let my hand land on Stacy’s waist and she doesn’t pull away. “Why does it have to be a game, angel? Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?”
Stacy glances around my room, chewing on her lip as tears start to gather on her lash line.
“Because…” She shakes her head. “Because you’re the one who asked me to do this.
You’re the one who wanted a fake girlfriend and I’m over here fucking it up by sometimes thinking maybe it’s real.
” Stacy’s voice breaks and my heart cracks along with it.
I bring up my other hand to catch her jawline, studying her gorgeous, soft face. “Why don’t you ask me how I feel?” I ask gently.
Stacy’s lips tremble as she finally lifts her head to meet my gaze. “How do you feel, Reece?” she whispers.
I stroke the side of her face with my thumb as I whisper back, “This hasn’t felt fake to me in a long time, baby.”
Stacy nods, tears finally spilling down her cheeks as she lets out a sob and buries her face in my chest. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her with everything in me as I sway us back and forth.
My lips find her hair over and over again as I hold my girl, hoping to god I never have to let go.
“Jesus, it breaks my heart when you cry,” I murmur into her hair, curling my fingers around the fabric of her dress. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want to make you upset.”
Stacy sniffs, pulling back to look up at me with tear-stained eyes. “Promise me,” she says.
“What am I promising you?”
“Promise me that this is real for you. Actually real. Because I can’t pretend anymore,” she cries.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and softly press my lips to her forehead. “I promise,” I whisper the truth.
“And if anything happens, you’ll choose me?” Stacy’s voice is barely audible and I pull back, shocked, to look down at her pleading face.
There’s still a part of her that thinks I’d go back to Tashia if given the chance.
Will I ever be able to change her mind?
“I’ll always choose you,” I swear, my voice low as I bring her back to my chest.
It’s the truth. Whether or not she believes it, though, is a whole other matter that we’ll have to tackle later.
For now, my heart is going a million miles a minute. My palms are clammy against the soft fabric of Stacy’s Thanksgiving dress and I have to swallow back the nerves building in my stomach. Because for now, I need to show Stace just how much I care about her.
I tilt her head up, peering into her teary eyes for just a second before catching her mouth with my own.
She sighs and melts into my body, her arms wrapping around my neck as my hands sink to her thighs.
I pick her up, just like the night of the Halloween party, carrying her over to my bed and gently laying her down.
I situate myself on top of her, dropping gentle kiss after gentle kiss onto her face, her lips, her neck.
“I think I’m falling for you, Reece Taylor,” she breathes as I press a kiss to her collarbone.
I pull back to study her face in the dim light. Wild hair sticking to her forehead, ice blue eyes wide and shining, swollen lips and the most adorable cheeks tinted pink. She’s so beautiful it makes my chest ache, and there are a million things I want to say to her.
I don’t think I’m falling. I know.
I’m pretty sure I’m already desperately in love with you.
You’re everything I want.
Instead, I grin and lower my mouth to hers again. “Good,” I murmur between kisses. “Because I’m pretty good at catching you.”