Chapter 28
REED
Durango, Colorado
Age Sixteen
Reed still couldn’t believe his luck every time Taylor White took his hand.
They’d been dating for three months now, and it still didn’t seem real.
She didn’t seem real. The only reason she was with him was because he played football.
Everyone at school knew it, but he didn’t care.
She stirred something in Reed he’d never felt before.
With her light red hair and eyes the color of a mountain lake, something about her made him ache.
But it was a sweet ache, like the fire in his core after a solid workout—an ache he wanted to feel again and again and again.
He was acutely aware of her presence everywhere he went.
She was the first thing he looked for when he went to school or to a football game.
He scanned the sidelines the moment he hit the field, hungry to see her smiling among the cheerleaders.
Anytime she was near him, his skin tingled.
They hadn’t gone all the way yet, but they’d come as close as you could without slipping over the edge.
Taylor said her dad would kill them both if they did, and Reed believed it.
Judge White hated him.
It didn’t matter how many times Reed crossed paths with Taylor’s father or how respectfully he spoke to him; he knew the man would never consider him good enough for his daughter.
And Reed couldn’t really argue with that.
But it wasn’t enough of a reason for him to stay away from her, either.
And he didn’t have a choice; being apart from her hurt.
If Reed went for more than a day without seeing Taylor, it felt like a death of sorts—like she’d yanked out a piece of his heart.
But when they were together, like they were now, things were perfect.
He’d convinced her to ditch eighth period, and they’d driven down to the river in her car. They came here sometimes to get away. Every time they did, all Reed wanted to do was kiss her, but today Taylor wanted to talk.
“Where do you think you’ll go to college?” she asked.
Reed’s heart dropped. He hadn’t thought about college yet.
And he didn’t want to think about it now.
They’d barely started their junior year.
Didn’t they have forever still? Besides, he couldn’t afford college.
His grades weren’t anywhere close to good enough for him to land a scholarship.
The only way he’d be able to go was if Aunt Beth paid the tuition, and there was no way in hell she’d ever do that.
That woman was hard—nothing but a collection of straight lines and edges.
The only reason she’d taken Reed in after his father had been sentenced to seventeen years for manslaughter was because he’d begged her to do it.
Begged and begged. Reed spent an entire year in the foster system before Aunt Beth finally relented.
When she did, she made sure Reed knew how much of an imposition he was.
She bitched at him every day. He made such a mess.
He was so goddamn ungrateful. He took all her money.
Blah, blah, blah. That’s what Aunt Beth was to him at this point: nothing but white noise.
“Well?” Taylor prompted.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ll go.”
Her perfect mouth pulled into a glossy knot. “What? Why?”
“I can’t afford it.”
“There are scholarships, Reed.”
“Yeah, I know, but my grades aren’t exactly great.”
“There’s still plenty of time to get them up.”
“Maybe.” The truth was, he could improve his grades.
He just didn’t want to. School was boring.
And what was the point, anyway? Aunt Beth constantly told him he wasn’t smart enough to go to college.
Well, not exactly that, but she was always talking about how it made a lot more sense for him to become a mechanic or to go into a trade like plumbing where he could make money instead of wasting it on some worthless degree.
But Reed didn’t want to become a mechanic or an electrician or some shit like that. He wanted to play football.
“What do you mean ‘maybe’?” Taylor asked. “There totally is.”
He gave her a tight smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try.”
They watched the river flow past for a while, quiet until Reed asked, “So what about you? Where will you go?” The question hurt. He didn’t want her to go anywhere.
She bit her lower lip in the adorable way she always did when she was lost in thought. It drove him crazy. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably Fort Collins if I stay in state. CSU has the best vet program if I can get in. Cornell or Ohio State if I don’t.”
“Really?” he asked. “That far away?”
Her nose bunched. “Aww, are you saying you’d miss me?”
He grinned. “Possibly.”
She traced her nails down his arm and then slipped her fingers into his. “Come with me, then. You can try out for the football team.”
Reed considered this. He’d scored more touchdowns than anyone else this season.
He had good hands and rarely dropped a pass.
And he was fast. Really fast. Reed might not get an academic scholarship, but if he kept playing like he was, Coach Halverson said he’d definitely be in the running for an athletic one. It wasn’t a bad idea.
“You really think I could make it?” he asked.
“Totally,” Taylor said, “but you’d have to study too. Have you thought about what you want to do for a career?”
“I want to play in the NFL.”
She laughed in response—a single, quick giggle she immediately cut off when she noticed his wince. “The NFL isn’t a real choice, Reed. No one gets to do that.”
“I bet I could.” He regretted how pitiful the statement sounded the second it left his lips.
“Maybe,” Taylor replied, but he knew she didn’t mean it.
“What does it matter?” he snapped back. “Why are you grilling me like this, anyway?”
“I’m not grilling you.”
“Yes, you are. And it’s not that easy for me. Not everyone has their entire life handed to them on a silver platter like you, Taylor.”
Her eyes sparked. He’d crossed the line, and he knew it.
“Fine, whatever,” she said. “Forget I asked. Let’s just go.”
She started the car, but before her hand hit the wheel, Reed sighed and took it.
He had to fix this before it got out of control.
“Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.
It’s just …” He trailed off, thinking about what to say next.
He could try to impress her, make up some bullshit about wanting to go to college to become an engineer or a doctor, but it would be a lie.
When they’d first started dating, Taylor had made him promise to never lie to her.
Even if the truth hurt, he shouldn’t lie.
If he did, it was over. Simple as that. So, he hadn’t lied.
Not once. And he wouldn’t start now. He tried again.
“The truth is, I’ve never really thought about going to college. ”
Her features thawed, the lines in her forehead smoothing. “Why not?”
“I don’t know, I …” He fumbled for the right words. “I guess I didn’t think it was a possibility for me. I’m not sure I’m smart enough.”
“Are you kidding?” She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. “Reed, you’re the smartest person I know. You can do whatever you want. I believe in you.”
For a second, he thought she was joking, but her gaze told him she wasn’t.
She did believe in him. No woman in his life had ever believed in him.
Not his mom who’d thrown him away when he was just a kid.
Not Aunt Beth, who thought he wouldn’t amount to anything and wanted him out of her house as soon as possible.
Certainly none of his teachers, all of them women who looked at him with sour faces every time they handed him a C like an average life was exactly what he deserved.
Not Taylor, though. She’d never once stared at him like that. She’d only ever looked at him like she was looking at him now—holding his gaze in a way he knew she meant every word.
You can never trust them, Reed. They’ll betray you.
His father’s voice blew through his mind like a cold wind.
He thought of the girl in third grade, Ashley Parker, who’d told on him for stealing the answer book.
He thought of his mom and Aunt Beth and the woman in Texas who’d screamed for her husband to come outside and ruined Reed’s life.
In a way, they all had—every single one of them.
But not every woman could be that bad, could they? Wasn’t Taylor proof?
“Do you really mean that?” he asked.
She tilted her head, her eyebrows curling up like she couldn’t believe he was questioning her. “Of course, I do. Remember our deal? No lying.” Then she cupped his cheek and kissed him, and Reed decided to forget everything his father had ever said.