Chapter 19
Reed and I sit in the dark, parked on the street outside my aunt’s house.
LA to NJ is a long day when you factor in the three-hour time change. I can write and brainstorm from wherever tomorrow, but I need to be back in New York for the monthly pitch meeting Wednesday morning.
I sent Whitney the video I took of Glenn with his rum bottle as we were pulling out of the beach parking lot so she’d be mentally prepared when I rang the doorbell with him, like a policeman who’d found a stray, twenty minutes later.
Glenn apologized to me as we made the short trek from Reed’s car to my aunt’s house.
My theory checked out: He has trauma wrapped up in confrontation.
He was scared Whitney would want to leave him after she found out about his previous marriage, so he left to prevent her from being able to do so. I told him to find a therapist.
Whitney mouthed an emotional thank-you to me on the front steps as Glenn hobbled drunkenly into the house. I nodded and retreated back to the blue Mercedes parked along the curb.
And here we are. A slow sadness is oozing through me from the top down.
I really like this man. So much so that I’ve agreed to a dating pact.
Now it’s going to be weeks, months, ages before I maybe see him again.
At any given moment I can receive a text that says The Sunrise Away bag is lost, and for no apparent reason, this will just be over.
I’ve never entered into something like this before.
It feels like playing the slots. The chances of him actually following up with me when he’s on the East Coast, despite the rules we agreed on tonight, are probably like 5 percent.
No amount of kismet and physical connection can make up for living three thousand miles apart.
“So when do you go back?” Reed asks.
“I have an 8:30 a.m. flight tomorrow.”
His brow shoots up. “Will you need a ride to the airport?”
I eye him skeptically. Locals despise driving to LAX. Some people don’t even drive their spouses. It’s a running joke out here. “Where do you live?”
“I have a place with my brother right in Sherman Oaks.”
That lands like a swift kick to the ass. He’s ten minutes from my mom’s house. It’s like I forgot to update my home address with the universe before I asked for a match.
“Where?” I ask again.
He rattles off an address on Greenly Street, right off Beverly Glenn Boulevard. I know the exact neighborhood. Jordyn’s dad rented an apartment in that area back in high school.
This is a second date. He’s not allowed to drive me to the airport.
“It’s all right. My aunt gets up early for work tomorrow. She’ll take me. You don’t have to put yourself through driving to LAX.”
He tilts his forehead toward me. “I’d be happy to.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t offer if it were bullshit.”
I wave him off. “I’m good, it’s already 1:00 a.m. Go home, get some sleep.”
He juts out his bottom lip, eyeing me carefully. “There’s a good chance I’ll be out in New York in about two months for work. See you then?”
Two months. That’s a century in dating years.
I bob my chin, icy disappointment spilling through my veins. “Yeah.”
“Text me when you get home safe?”
“Yeah,” I say again.
He leans over the center console, and I shift to meet him in a wholesome, quick goodbye kiss. It’s still too good.
“Wait—” I blurt.
Reed grins, settling back into his seat. “What?”
I huff a bland laugh. “Um, I just had a thought—for the pact. I don’t think we should text when we’re not in the same state.”
Surprise flits across his face.
“I just think with a two-month gap, this could get really messy before we even got the chance to hang out again. You know? I don’t want that to happen. It’ll be cleaner, I think. With texting off the table.” Safer.
He purses his lips, pensive for a moment before he nods once. “Okay.”
“Cool. You know, unless we’re ever in a place where we’re going to make this something real. I think this is the way to go.”
He closes his eyes, schooling his serious war-hero expression back into place. “All right, throw it on the constitution.”
“All right.”
Reed leans forward and kisses me again, but this time he grabs my chin, pulling me to him across the console. His mouth parts my lips hungrily, sending my insides spinning. When it breaks, he studies my eyes. I get lost in his for a moment before I hastily stumble out.
The window zmmms down as I shut the passenger door. “See you at the airport, Renee.”
I turn to blink at him, confused for a moment before the meaning hits.
The anti–Away bag is lost.
I snort. “TTYL, Derek.”
Reed [7:50 a.m.]: Still in California?
Me [7:51 a.m.]: Yep at my gate, should be boarding soon!
Reed [7:52 a.m.]: Have a safe flight! <3
Whitney [7:55 a.m.]: Can you do some couples therapy sessions with Glenn and I like over zoom or something?
Me [7:56 a.m.]: I’m not actually supposed to take on family members as couple’s clients
Whitney [7:57 a.m.]: What if you don’t charge us? Just like four sessions or so? We’re postponing the honeymoon while we work on our communication skills and conflict resolution
Me [8:00 a.m.]: Sure
Whitney [8:01 a.m.]: Thank you thank you! What’d Reed get on his report card?
Me [8:01 a.m.]: 98%
Whitney [8:01 a.m.]: holy gods marry him
Dad [8:15 a.m.]: Next time I need to know when you’re going to be out of state, Rikki. I was scheduling painters to come in and do the apartment.
Me [8:17 a.m.]: Okay! Could you please let me know when they’re coming?