20. Reed
Reed
“When can I get the keys?” I ask the rental agent as I sign the lease agreement on what’s going to be my new kitchen counter.
“As soon as the check clears tomorrow, I’ll call you to pick them up,” she replies as she taps away on her phone screen.
“Perfect.” I set the pen down on the stack of paperwork, not even having a second thought about what I’m doing.
“Are you sure you want to do month-to-month? It’s more expensive that way. We could do a six-month lease if you don’t want to commit to a year.”
“No. I don’t plan on being here that long,” I tell her. “But if I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good,” she says as she gathers up the paperwork, stashing the pen in her bag. “Don’t forget those.” Her eyes move to the box of cupcakes that are half gone.
“Would you like one?”
She shakes her head. “They have the best baked goods there, though. I went through a phase where I couldn’t go a day without stopping there. But somehow, I found the strength to only make the trip once a week.”
“I can understand why.” I smile at her, but I’ve seen the way she’s been looking at me.
She wants me as much as she wants the cupcakes inside that box.
But it’s not going to happen. I’m a married man, and I only have eyes for my wife…
the mother of my child. “I have to run,” I tell her, grabbing the cupcakes I saved for Amelia.
“Great,” she says with a tight smile and a hint of disappointment. “I’ll walk you down.”
“No need,” I tell her, not wanting to get into all the details. “I’m heading next door.”
Her eyebrows rise. “A friend in the building?” she asks.
I nod. “Something like that.”
“Well, have a great night, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I tell her before leaving her behind inside what’s going to be my new place.
But I need somewhere to stay tonight. I could go to my uncle’s, but there is only one place I want to be.
I knock on Amelia’s door, knowing the bakery closed two hours ago. She has to be home by now. My plan was to ply her with cupcakes and compliments until she let me stay on her couch. Hell, I’d do just about anything to spend a little time with the woman who’s also my wife.
We haven’t spent much time alone together at all since the day we met. Hours here and there over a few days. I know vacation Amelia, but not the everyday woman. I don’t know what makes her tick, and hell, I want to.
The door to her apartment opens, and as soon as her eyes meet mine, they widen. “Reed,” she says, nearly out of breath.
“Hey, sugar.” I give her the same smirk that caught her attention months ago.
At home, Amelia looks very different from the woman I met in Vegas. She has on a pair of ankle-length leggings, a tank top that hangs off one shoulder, and her hair’s up in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen.
“Why are you here?” she asks, not opening the door all the way to invite me in.
“I brought you cupcakes,” I tell her, holding the box between us. “Can I come in?”
She stares at me for a moment with those deep brown eyes, and I fully expect her to say no. “Do I have a choice?”
“You have a choice in everything, Amelia. You can tell me to fuck off if you want to, but then I have to eat these all by myself.”
“How tragic,” she whispers. “Fine. Come in.” She opens the door and steps to the side, giving me space to enter.
“I signed my lease,” I tell her when I walk inside and kick off my boots as I hand her the box.
“Oh. Already?” She opens the box she gave me earlier, but only half the cupcakes are left. I’ve had four over the last six hours, and although I am running on sugar, I really need something more nutritional in my stomach.
“Did you eat dinner?” I ask her, walking toward her living room as she closes the door.
“Not yet.”
“Chinese or pizza?”
She stares at me from ten feet away. It’s as if her feet are stuck to the floor and she’s having a war with herself inside her head. “Pizza.”
“Where’s the best place near here?” I take a seat on her extra fluffy couch, nearly being swallowed up by the damn thing.
I don’t have shit furniture, but nothing nearly as lush as this. The things in my home are more about purpose than beauty or comfort. But Amelia lives a different life, and I don’t hate it.
“I’ll order one from the Hook & Hustle. What do you want on it?”
“Whatever you want,” I tell her, patting the spot next to me on the couch so she’ll sit down. “You’ve been on your feet all day. You need to rest.”
She sighs and moves to the couch, sitting as far away from me as she possibly can. If she could disappear into the arm of the couch, I’m pretty sure she would. She doesn’t look at me as she types away on her phone, and I watch her. “Ordered. It’ll be here in thirty.”
“Perfect. How did the rest of your day go?”
She stares at me as she places her phone down between us, like it will somehow keep us apart. “It was fine. Days are getting harder because I’m getting more tired.”
“I could come and help you some days.”
Her eyebrows rise again. “You’d do that?”
“I’m part of the reason why the days are getting harder.”
“You’re the only reason,” she corrects me, adjusting her legs like she’s physically uncomfortable.
“I didn’t do it alone,” I remind her.
“When do you move in?”
“Tomorrow.”
She tilts her head, staring at me like I have three heads. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. As soon as my check clears, I get the keys. We’ll officially be neighbors. I never thought I’d live next door to my wife.”
“We’re legally married, but…”
“But we barely know each other. I plan to change that. We’re going to be in each other’s lives forever after all.”
“Forever,” she whispers as she leans over and rubs her calf. “That’s a long time.”
I watch the motion, appreciating the shape of her calves. I wish I remembered touching them in Vegas. I wish I remembered anything about that night. “Are your legs sore?”
“A little, but my feet are worse. I don’t know how I’m going to be on my feet all day as I get further along. Pregnancy is the worst.”
“I’m sorry,” I say since I’m partly responsible for the situation she’s in. “Gimme.” I motion toward her legs. “I can help.”
She gawks at me and doesn’t move. “I’m okay.”
“Come on. My hands are strong.”
“I don’t doubt that,” she says but still doesn’t move an inch. “You don’t need to massage my legs.”
I raise an eyebrow as I rub my hands together. “I know I don’t need to, but I want to.”
She eyes me suspiciously before she straightens her legs across the couch, placing her feet near me. “Just for a minute.”
I grab her feet, lifting them so I can sit closer, and place them in my lap.
“What are you doing?” she asks, pushing herself upward to glare at me like I have ulterior motives.
“You want a great foot rub or a mediocre one?”
“A great one,” she replies, dropping back down until her head hits the throw pillow. “Just don’t get any ideas.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I wrap my hands around her small feet and squeeze.
She instantly moans. “Oh God.”
And I swear to hell, my dick jumps inside my pants. “Good?” I rub harder, squeezing and pressing all the spots.
“Fucking amazing,” she whispers with rushed breaths. “Don’t stop.”
If I closed my eyes or were eavesdropping from the hallway, I’d swear the two people inside this apartment were having sex. The little moans and gasps are loud enough to carry through what I assume are paper-thin walls.
“Do you know if we’re having a boy or a girl?”
I haven’t thought much about it since I heard the news, but as each day ticks by, I’m getting more and more curious.
“I’m hoping to at my next ultrasound.”
“Can I come?”
She cracks open one eye. “You really want to?”
“Sugar, it’s my baby too, and I want to be there for everything.”
The muscles in her legs stiffen, but I keep rubbing, not giving her a chance to lock up completely. “Let’s start with the next ultrasound. We’ll take it one step at a time.”
“I’m good with that.”
She closes her eyes completely again. “You don’t have a choice.”
She’s not going to make anything easy for me. But that’s okay. I’m not the type of guy who gives up easily. I’ve never been in this situation before, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her rattle me or push me away.
“Can I crash on your couch tonight?”
“Can’t you stay at your uncle’s?” She tries to pull her legs away, but I don’t let her.
“I can’t rub your feet from there, though,” I tell her, hoping it’s enough for her to agree to let me stay here for the night. “I’ll rub them all night if you say yes.”
“And if I don’t?” she asks.
“If you don’t—” I pull my hands away from her “—then I should go.”
“But the pizza,” she protests, glaring at me from the other end of the couch and wiggling her toes.
She wants more. I knew she would. “Is it a yes or a no?”
“Yes,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “But only if you keep rubbing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a chuckle.
“You don’t fight fair.”
“Never claimed to.”
I take the time to look at Amelia. Really look at her. Her eyes are closed, her face soft and relaxed. She’s truly beautiful and looks so damn innocent. There’s a small bump where our baby is growing inside her.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, her voice sleepy.
“Just admiring how beautiful you are.”
She covers her face with her hand. “I’m a mess right now.”
“You look great to me.”
“You’re not very picky, are you?” she asks, peeking at me through her fingers.
“Stop talking so negatively about my wife,” I warn her. “She’s a stunner.”
“She was,” she answers, glazing over the first part of my statement.
“Still is. More beautiful than ever, honestly.”
“God, you’re a shit liar.”
I stop rubbing but keep my hands firmly locked around her feet. “I’m not lyin’, Amelia.”
She drops her hand from her face and looks down the length of the couch at me. “Are you flirting with me, Reed?”
“I’m always flirting with you.”
Her face turns the softest shade of pink. “That’s how we ended up in this situation to begin with.”
“It’s my fault?”
She nods. “If you weren’t so damn handsome in that ridiculous cowboy hat, I would’ve never even noticed you.”
“Liar,” I whisper. “I saw that twinkle in your eyes. You’re smitten.”
“Were,” she corrects.
“Are,” I argue. “I know I still am.”
She snatches her feet back like my words burned her very flesh and sits up, her body tense all over again. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Do what?” I smirk, knowing exactly what she’s saying. She wants me, but she doesn’t want to.
“We can’t.”
“Can’t what?” I ask.
“Reed.”
“Amelia.”
“You’re impossible,” she whispers.
“I’m a sure thing,” I tell her, inching my body toward her a little. “Don’t you want to relive that night? Maybe put a memory where one should be.”
She shakes her head. “It’ll muddy the water.”
“What water?”
“My feelings, Reed. My head is a mess right now, and I don’t know if I can handle separating my feelings about you from this situation.”
“Am I so bad?” I ask her.
“That’s the problem,” she says, glancing down at her hands in her lap. “You’re too good.”
I turn toward her, sliding my arm around the back of the couch, nearly touching her shoulder. “I’m just me, Amelia. This is me. Is it so awful that we like each other? We are married. We have a baby coming. Life would be easier if we were together.”
“People would think we’re crazy.”
“Screw what other people think. All that matters is what we think and want. What do you want?”
Her lip quivers as she stares at me. “I don’t want to do this alone, but I’m not ready for more.”
“Then I’ll be here when you are,” I promise her. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be next door whenever you need me. For whatever you need, including unlimited foot rubs.”
“What about my legs?” she asks with a hint of a smile.
I’ve got her.
It may not be quick, but there is definitely a path forward for us, and I’m not going to stop until we carve it out.