Chapter Eight Reed #2
Yeah, I don’t even know how to handle this version of you being this nervous, awkward, and . . . well, sweet.
“I’m, um, glad we’re alone.”
My damn heart rate was never going to slow down. “You are?”
“Mm-hmm.” She stood, then sidestepped the barrier of the coffee table between us and offered her hand.
I was probably scowling as I bit out, “What are you doing?”
“Asking for a favor. Will you do it for me?”
“Depends.”
“I was hoping you’d touch me.” Red crawled up her throat into her face.
Never have I ever—a game we used to play in high school, and I had no idea why I was thinking about that now, but never had I ever witnessed Hollis blush or get tongue-tied.
She’s not herself, genius. I forced myself to stand so she wouldn’t feel alone in whatever she was going through. I even held out my hand—no idea what she planned to do with it, but if she wanted it, she could have it.
She gently rested her hand on top of mine. The second contact was made, it took all my energy not to pull away at the electric current passing from her fingers into my skin.
“See?” she whispered.
“What am I supposed to see?” I was using the sense of touch, not eyesight right now.
“Sorry, I meant . . . do you feel that?”
I eyed our clasped palms, then let my gaze wander up to the length of her still-pink neck to the most beautiful face in the world.
“Do I feel your hand? Yes.” I played dumb because I didn’t want to lie to her. Because yes, I felt a little too damn much, and that was a problem.
“You mean something to me, I just know you do,” she said as if in a daze while locking our fingers together so we were now holding hands. “Are we secretly sleeping together?”
Sleeping together? “Hollis,” I choked out. I hated to destroy whatever peace she was feeling, and even giving to me, but I had no choice but to be honest. “We’re not sleeping together,” I said as firmly as possible. “In fact . . .” I exhaled. “This is the first time we’ve ever even held hands.”
Her eyes flashed open, narrowed and sharp in disbelief. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”
Shit. “I don’t know why you feel this way, but we don’t even”—I hated myself for this—“like each other.”
She pulled her hand away, and it was a punch to the gut I deserved. “What are you saying?”
I dragged both hands through my hair, trying to find a way through this with minimal damage while also shutting down this ridiculous idea that we were together. “We have an unconventional friendship.”
“Unconventional,” she echoed, her mouth drawing tight around the word.
“You’re Audrey’s friend, not mine. I mean .
. . we”—I faced the camera, checking if Alex’s Houdini work held up—“hate each other, actually.” And I’m an asshole.
I slowly turned around as she dropped down onto the couch.
“Well, uh, more like you do your best to get under my skin.” This is going great.
“Wow, um, okay.” She cupped her chin, and I lost her eyes to the floor. “So it really makes no sense why I feel like this?”
“Exactly.” I clearly needed EQ training, because I sucked at this.
“We do hang out from time to time, though,” I admitted, going for my phone.
“You love my dog.” I sat next to her, keeping a little space between us, then swiped through my photos to find a few to show her.
“Audrey’s son is always stealing my phone to take pictures. You’ve been in some of them.”
“Surprised you didn’t delete them, if we don’t like each other,” she said while taking the phone from me. “What’s his name?”
“Ranger. Not creative, I know. Some of my best days were when I was still a Ranger before I—” My throat jammed up, blocking the ugly truth from falling free. “Anyway.” I’d just hijacked Audrey’s favorite subject-changing word, and I didn’t even care.
“Well, he’s adorable.” She expanded one image that was of her standing next to me while I held Ranger.
“Chase made us take that photo at the park.” The same park where Gideon had shown up and killed me with the news that she was in trouble.
She smoothed the pad of her thumb across the screen. “Why are you grimacing? Your puppy can’t be that heavy.”
She checked out the arm closest to her, and I nearly flexed to give her a better show. What is wrong with me?
“You can easily hold him even if he’s full grown.”
Was I grinning? I wasn’t used to her being so . . . well, nice. Not that her typical smart-ass, teasing self didn’t do a number on me, too.
“You were standing next to me. That’s why I made that face.” In truth, that moment was too picture perfect, like we were posing as a family or something, and for whatever reason, my whole day had been messed up because of that one photo.
“So, what you’re saying is, you really can’t stand me that much?” She playfully elbowed me.
“There you are.” The words came out like a gutshot, on autopilot.
She lowered the phone, waiting for me to explain myself.
“Sorry, I just . . .” I cleared my throat and took my phone from her. “You and I have this thing where we joke around, and that’s something you’d, uh, have said to me before. Right along with the jab to my ribs.”
“Ah.” Her face lit up with a bright smile that met her eyes. “So . . . is the hate thing also a joke?”
Shit. I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
Julian and Lyra walked into the office, and I’d never been more grateful to see her siblings.
Julian had a tray of food, and his gaze flicked to the camera in the room as he set it down. “Nice work.”
“The honor isn’t mine, but I’ll pass on your regards.” I stood and placed some distance between myself and Hollis.
“You must be Reed.” Lyra took me by surprise and flung her arms over my shoulders, hugging her hello.
I reacted the same way Hollis had with her outside, arms stiff at my sides, unsure what the hell was happening. The fact I’d never hugged Hollis and now I was doing that with Lyra wasn’t lost on me, and for some reason, it bothered me.
“Forgive her,” Julian said as she untangled herself to sit by Hollis. “She’s the only one with emotions in this family. Well, the good kind of emotions, at least.”
“We can’t all be broody and terrifying.” Lyra pulled the coffee table closer to where they were sitting, a plea for Hollis to eat. “Though it does get a little lonely being the only one who doesn’t play spy games.”
Hollis glanced at her sister. “You don’t . . . ?”
“Nope. I’m the innocent one.” She shot her sister a playful wink.
“I should go check on my team.” I didn’t feel right staying in there.
I started for the door, only to stop when Hollis called out, “Jason?” She quickly corrected, “Reed?”
I set my hand on the doorframe and glanced back at her. “Yeah?”
“Sorry for the misunderstanding.”
For thinking we slept together?
“Also for punching you on the street yesterday. And I owe you for helping get me to safety. Thank you.”
She could punch me all she wanted, as long as that meant she was safe. “Water under the bridge.” My chest constricted as I struggled to act calm and collected about all this. “No need to thank me, just doing my job.”
I let that lie hang in the air, then went off in search of my team and that metaphorical damn duct tape I’d be needing to survive being around this woman much longer and not explode.