Chapter 18
Aspen
The next week drifts by with sleepless nights thinking of Reid and the phantom smell of his cologne clinging to every inch of my room, taunting and teasing me. Thoughts of him distract me at work and follow me out with my friends. No matter what I do, I can’t escape my racing thoughts of him.
And if there’s the chance I do, then he’s waiting outside to drive me home or a Whisper Me Nothings song comes on the radio.
It’s messing with my head, realizing that I want him maybe as more than just a friend. As my former foster brother. I wanted him to kiss me. Was waiting for it. Yearning for it.
But nothing.
And every night that he’s driven me home this past week, he’s never even gotten close again. I thought maybe I was imagining things. Going crazy.
Until the text I got half an hour ago came through.
Reid: Do you have plans today?
Me: Not really. Why? You’re off the hook today, remember. No work.
Reid: I know
Reid: You have plans now. I’m picking you up at 4
Me: What for?
Reid: We’re going to the beach
Me: Why?
Reid: Do I need a reason?
Me: Is this like a date?
I meant it as a joke. A hopeful, stupid one, but a joke nonetheless.
That is until his response came through only moments later.
Reid: If that’s what you want to call it then fine whatever. Just be ready at 4
My stupid, hardened heart hasn’t stopped racing since.
I changed my bikini three times, finally settling on a white one with gold accents.
I added a pair of jean shorts and brought a loose button up to wear over top or in case it gets cold.
Fall has fully crept in on the city, and even though it’s sunny and beautiful outside, the wind can bring a bite with it.
I check the time and have a few minutes to spare. Quickly applying sunscreen and checking my makeup one more time, I grab my beach bag and head downstairs to wait for Reid.
But when I get outside, he’s already there, car idling at the curb. He doesn’t get out to open my door for me. Instead, with the windows rolled down, I see his long arm reach across the car and push open the door from the inside.
Black sunglasses sit on his face, hiding the small notch at the top of his nose. I’ve never asked him where he got it, but I would assume it’s from being broken at one point. I don’t remember him having it when we were younger.
“Hey,” I say and slip in the car.
He’s dressed casually in a black T-shirt and light blue swim trunks. And while his eyes may be covered, I can feel his gaze dip down to my exposed midriff and the swell of my breasts in my bikini top.
I might’ve chosen this one because of what it does with the little I have.
“Hey,” he says, voice gruff. “Ready to go?”
“I guess. I mean, you’re the one with the plan. I’m just along for the ride.”
With a curt nod, he takes off.
The drive is quick and quiet. He queues up the Stick Season album by Noah Kahan without comment.
I throw my hair in a quick braid to keep it from tangling and let my hand dangle in the passing wind.
The crowded buildings fade into the blue line of the ocean.
Salt tickles my nose and I inhale deeply, letting it fill my lungs.
“I’m surprised you like this album,” I say as we pull into a small parking lot. “Doesn’t seem like your type of music.”
He shuts the car off and puts the windows back up. “It’s not. But I saw the vinyl copy of it on the shelf in your room. Figured you had to like it.”
Such a small detail to notice, and yet he did. I bite my lip and damn my racing heart again.
When he pops the trunk open, a blanket, a tote bag of food, a small cooler, and a volleyball sit inside. This sure looks like the makings of a date. I reach for the tote but he stops me with an arm across my chest. “I got it.”
“You’re gonna carry all of this by yourself?”
“Yep.” He loads his arms up and nods toward the trunk. “Could you close that, though?”
I shut it with a loud thunk and take in the ridiculous sight in front of me.
His large frame is loaded down with the items but he holds them as if they weigh nothing.
His biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt, and I’m grateful for my own sunglasses on my face so he can’t tell where I’m staring.
“You seriously don’t want me to carry anything?” I ask.
He simply shakes his head and points over my shoulder. “Let’s go down there. There’s a little cove off to the left.”
I step back and follow him down the sandy, wooden path along the top of the beach until we reach the spot he was talking about.
There’s large rock formations around, which give a small semblance of privacy, despite the walkway only a few feet away.
He sets everything down and spreads out the blanket.
I kick off my flip flops and try to contain the moan that slips free at the feeling of my toes sinking into the sand.
Reid’s head jerks up, which causes me to clamp my lips shut. His hands twitch.
“It’s probably too cold to swim, but want to go dip our toes in?” I ask, itching to feel the cool kiss of the ocean.
Reid kicks off his own shoes and follows me to the edge. The sand is cool and damp as we wait for the next wave to roll in. My face grows warm from the sun and I tip my head back, letting it bathe me in its rays. I inhale the salty air right as water rushes over my feet.
Reid curses softly at the cold temperature of it, but I exhale against the sting of it. It’s incredible and refreshing. The sand tickles between my toes as the water recedes and pulls some of the grains with it, and I smile at the sensation.
“You really did move here because you loved the beach, didn’t you?” Reid sounds slightly surprised. I open my eyes and look at him. He’s staring at me like he’s trying to mentally take a picture of this moment and I’m something worthy of capturing.
“I did,” I answer softly. “I do really love it.”
“Well then I’m glad I brought you here.”
“Me too.” I smile, and he almost returns it.
We spend a few minutes talking in the water before we walk back toward the blanket. I immediately go for the volleyball and test out its weight. I haven’t played since high-school gym class.
“Do you play a lot?” I ask him and toss him the ball.
He catches it easily and inspects the white surface. “No. I, uh, didn’t know what you exactly do at the beach and this seemed like a popular activity, so I just went out and bought it last night for us.”
I suppress my grin at the pink that stains his cheekbones.
He tosses it back to me like he’s wishing he never admitted that. “Whatever, we don’t need to use it.”
“No, no, I think that’s a great idea. I have to admit I haven’t played in many years, but it’ll be fun. How about each time one of us drops the ball, the other gets to ask any question they want.”
He arches a brow and cocks his head to the side. “Are you trying to hijack my plans?”
I twirl the ball around. “Just enhancing the fun.”
“Fun,” he chuckles darkly. “Alright, hit me.”
I set the ball to him and he bumps it back effortlessly. The sand slips between my toes as I shuffle to the left to return it but end up hitting it off the side of my arm, and it plops to the ground.
“Guess I get to go first.” He grins. “I’ll go easy on you. Favorite snack?”
“Psh, easy. Clementines.”
“Clementines?” His nose scrunches up. “What kind of snack is that?”
“Only the best one ever. I could eat a whole bag of them in two days.”
“Well damn, guess I should’ve added those to the grocery order.”
“You would’ve done yourself a favor.” I bump the ball back to him and after a few volleys, he drops it. My turn to ask a question. I also ease him in with an easy one. “What’s your favorite song? And any of yours don’t count.”
He scoffs. “Like I’d be so vain as to pick my own songs.”
I arch my brows and he flips me off.
“I mean, fuck there’s a lot. I guess ‘Sweet Child O’Mine’ is one of the first songs I remember hearing and falling in love with the guitar. It’s what made me want to learn how to play, so I guess I gotta go with that one.”
I miss the next ball and he asks me the same question.
“‘Limits,’” I say, feeling heat creep up my neck and to my cheeks. “The acoustic version.”
A knowing look grows on his face. “Any particular reason?”
I roll my eyes at him, which he can’t see behind my sunglasses, but I’m sure he can sense. You know damn well why.
I do, he says silently. Then out loud, he argues, “The regular version is better.”
“Wrong, but whatever.”
“Not wrong, but whatever.”
We hit the ball back and forth again, and he’s the one to drop it this time.
“Where’s your favorite place you ever visited on tour?”
He takes a moment to think about that one. “Ah, there’s been a lot of really cool places. Maybe Tokyo?”
“You’ve been to Japan?” I gape.
“Yep. We did a small East Asia tour after our second album.” His posture relaxes and I can practically see the memories flashing across his face.
“It was one of the coolest experiences we ever had together. None of us ever would’ve thought we’d have the reach to go overseas, and yet we sold out every single show that tour. ”
“Do you miss touring?”
His face shutters and he bats the ball back in my direction. “One question at a time.”
I drop the next pass and he asks, “If you had to pick a brand new job tomorrow, and it could be anything you want, what would you do?”
It’s only the question I’ve been trying to answer myself for the last few years. I open my mouth to argue just that but he cuts me off.
“Don’t overthink it, just say it.”
“But I don’t—”
“Say it!”
“Something with animals!” I blurt out. A satisfied grin stretches across Reid’s face and he waits patiently for more.
“I guess I’d like to do something with animals.
Maybe work for a non-profit, or manage fosters.
” If there’s one bright light for me at the end of every day and the beginning of each morning, it’s Macaroni.
We hit the ball back and forth for what must be close to an hour, judging by the quickening descent of the sun.
“Okay, last one, then let’s have some food. Sound good?”
I brush my hands against the rough material of my shorts. “Sounds good. I’m starving. Hopefully you packed some good stuff.”
“Like I’d deliver anything but the best.” He pops the ball over to me and I bump it back.
We go back and forth a few times but when my return falls slightly short, Reid isn’t quick enough to bend forward and grab it. It falls to the sand and I raise my arms triumphantly.
“I win!”
“There’s no winners,” he grumbles.
“Well there certainly is a loser,” I tease. “Okay, final question, but more so a challenge for you.”
He adjusts his glasses after bending over to grab the volleyball. Tucking it into his side, he waits expectantly.
I gather up a lungful of air to press out the question before I can second guess it and overthink his potential reaction. “Besides pure stubbornness, what’s stopping you from reaching out to Walker? Or to Hayden?”
He stiffens, spine going ramrod straight, but he doesn’t interrupt me. I take that as a greenlight to keep going.
“Is it because you truly don’t want to resolve it and want to be through with the friendship now that you don’t have the band tying you to them? Is it because you’re scared they’ll reject you? Is it because you don’t know how to try to make amends? What is it?”
“I don’t know—”
“You do.”
His fists clench and every muscle in his body coils tight. “Maybe it’s all of the fucking above, okay? Maybe I just don’t want to. Maybe I don’t know how. Maybe I’m too scared to dial their fucking numbers and find out that they have me blocked.”
My chest clenches at the rawness of his voice. “You’ll never know unless you try.”
He stares out toward the ocean, jaw razor sharp beneath the stubble.
“Will you think about reaching out to one of them?” I prod.
“Why do you care?”
“Because I care about you.” The admission doesn’t feel as scary as it should. “And clearly, you’re harboring all that negativity inside. How do you ever expect to make any progress in your life if that’s constantly holding you back in the past?”
His jaw ticks. “And have you let go of all the negativity in your past?”
My own walls begin to rise. “That’s different. And I’m sure you haven’t let all that shit go either. God, I bet if they cut you open, you’d just spill out toxic sludge from all the shit you’re hanging onto from the past.”
I expect him to fight, to get angry, to maybe even storm off. But what I don’t expect is the loud bark of laughter he lets out and the reluctant curl of his lip. “You’re probably right, Penny. You’re probably fucking right.”
He walks over toward the blanket and I stand there for a moment too stunned to follow. When he realizes I’m not following him, he glances over his shoulder at me. “You coming?”
“I’m just waiting for you to fight with me.”
He turns and strolls backward. It has no reason being as hot as it is. “I’d love to, but I’m trying here.”
Yes, he certainly is.
I join him on the blanket and we both sit facing the ocean, so close our shoulders brush. The waves are a calm, steady rhythm to listen to while he lays out the snacks. It’s a mix of pre-packaged charcuterie items like meats and cheeses, a container of mixed nuts, and a small fruit tray.
“No wine to go with this spread?” I tease.
“Thought that’d be impractical on the beach,” he says and reaches into the cooler to pull out two cans of sparkling water. “Gotta settle for this instead. Lemon or peach?”
“Peach.” I pluck the can from his hands.
“Good, cause I wanted lemon.”
We cheers and I pop the can open. The bubbles burst on my tongue as I take a long swig.
A group of girls walks on the path near where our blanket is set up. I’m preoccupied opening a few of the snack containers, when something catches my ear.
“Is that Reid Keely?”
“No way…”
“Oh my god! Wait, guys—”
Both Reid and I swivel our heads around to look at the girls. Shock and glee burst across their faces as they lock in on the man sitting next to me. “It is him!”