I look away, suddenly unable to meet the intensity of his eyes. “Yes.”
He pushes off the wall, glaring down at me. “You can come by tomorrow for your car, by the way. And I’ll need these,” he says, snatching the keys to my Camry off the key rack on the wall.
Without another word, he turns, slamming the door behind him. I’m left breathless in the hallway, staring after him. What was that? For a minute there, I thought Reid Riggins was actually thinking about kissing me, or more than that. And for a minute… I think I wanted him to.
I shake my head, going upstairs and making a point of not looking at my newly dinged and dented furniture that still needs to be arranged. I hop in the shower even though I just showered about two hours ago before I left for work. I need to clear my head. I need space, time, and I need every last bit of Reid’s scent off my skin. I don’t need little reminders of him catching me by surprise throughout the day.
I squeeze out shampoo and wash my hair, whether it needs it or not. I’m undoing all the work I did of getting ready this morning, but that, admittedly, wasn’t much. I slapped on some mascara, concealer, and just brushed the tangles out of my hair, letting it air dry on my walk to work. It’s not like I have anyone to impress.
Except Reid.
That thought rises up, unwelcome and frustratingly pleasant at the same time. I rub the soap to a furious lather, thinking about Reid and the way it felt to have him against me. I turn my back to the faucet and rub the soap across my chest, cupping my breasts as I do, feeling a tingle of warmth that has nothing to do with the water.
My hands slide down my stomach and I rub myself between the legs, eyebrows drawing down, imagining his hard cock is pressing into my belly, throbbing. His body is hard against me, lips only inches from mine. Vivid images of him pumping into me, groaning with pleasure flash in my mind and I’m soon leaning against the wall, working my fingers fast, riding the waves of my shameful climax.
I shut off the water and towel off, feeling the guilt from what I just did seep deeper and deeper. Even if Reid wasn’t a total asshole, he’s Tara’s ex. Even if she has changed recently, I’m still her best friend. I lost track of how many pints of ice cream we shared while she talked through her problems with Reid to me. I never really looked at their relationship objectively though. I always looked at it through the lens of being Tara’s best friend. I took her side. That was my job.
Now, I think back on it and realize that she was horrible to him. She always came to me and complained that he was a deadbeat who didn’t want to make enough to support her, that he didn’t love her enough to make the life she wanted. And what did I do? I defended her. I told her she was right, and that he should have goals beyond just doing what makes him comfortable. I can’t help feeling like shit looking back on it. As much as I love Tara, she didn’t know Reid at all. He may be the most abrasive asshole I’ve ever met, but he seems to know what he wants and he’s devoting himself to doing it, regardless of what the world says about it.
A lot like me.
The realization gives me chills. Did I just compare myself to Reid Riggins? I sigh, wrapping a towel around myself and heading downstairs to pour myself some wine. I really could use a good buzz right about now. Who cares if it’s not even past noon. When I think back to the notice folded in my purse I feel like I could actually go for something closer to black-out drunk. Anything to forget. Anything to put this all behind me, even for a little while.
Well, at least the solution to my problems is simple. I just need to come up with about twelve grand on short notice. Yeah. No big deal.
5
Reid
I wipe the sweat from my eyes and squint toward the road at the sound of an approaching car. A six cylinder, by the sound of it, and poorly maintained. I can practically hear the pistons struggling to pump from here. Once the car pulls into view I realize exactly who’s driving.
My little brother, Mark.
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s one of the last people I want to see right now. Even on a good day I wouldn’t really want to see my little brother these days. I practically raised him, and he thanked me by shitting all over that as soon as he got his fancy college diploma and the fancy job that came with it. I was proud of him, too. Even with the ungrateful attitude and the bullshit he put me through, I was glad my little brother was making something of himself.
Until grandpa died and Mark showed his real colors. He thought the garage should have been left to him. He thought he could sell it and use the money to jumpstart his real estate empire.
The car door opens and Mark steps out, dusting off his dress shirt like just standing in front of my shop is sullying his fancy city clothes. He makes a show of squinting his eyes and looking around to take everything in, like he didn’t spend the first half of his life growing up here. He’s tall, but still shorter than my six-foot-three frame. He was always a little more prone to carrying weight, and now he has a slight gut and a fullness to his cheeks. His most prominent feature is the expression he wears though. It’s as if he spent so long sneering that one corner of his mouth froze that way.
“The fuck do you want?” I ask, setting down the carburetor I was working on and start wiping the grease from my hands.
Mark sniffs. “A shower, for starters.”
“Get to the point, before I kick your ass off my property.”
“Fine,” says Mark, pulling out a pair of expensive looking sunglasses and putting them on. “I’m working with the mayor to turn this shithole into something useful. We’re going to demolish old dumps like this place and build a strip mall. There will be thousands of middle and upper class families looking to move here, and we plan to have the infrastructure ready before they are. In five years, you won’t even recognize the place. I just thought I’d tell you in person.”
I drop the rag I’m wiping my hands with and step closer to Mark. “Let me make sure I understand you,” I say, voice low and deadly. “You think you’re going to take my shop from me?”
Mark shakes his head, sighing. “This isn’t the Old West, Reid. It’s the development business. It’s happening all over the country. No one has a use for rinky dink towns like this anymore. There’s a population explosion and we’re just trying to keep up with the demand for houses and entertainment.”
“Yeah? Well maybe people should stop fucking, then, because the only way this shop is getting torn down is over my dead body.”
Mark makes a face to show he’s unimpressed. “You know, if you violate the terms grandpa left, it’ll be--”
“So you’re the one?” asks Sandra.