That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(28)

“Reid, I suggest you step away and let me out.”

“No.”

I look up at his determined face, and a cold anger grips me with each second that passes. Fine, I decide. If he wants to talk about this, then we’re gonna talk about it.

I fold my arms over my chest and face him. “Do you really think I care about what you do or where you live? I’ve known you forever, Reid. Your life isn’t a mystery to me. It’s not like I’m just starting to get to know you.” I poke his chest. “I know you. So it’s insulting for you to accuse me of being embarrassed of you. I’m not embarrassed. I just wanted this to be between us for a bit before we have to start dodging all the town gossip. I wanted time with just you.”

His face softens, and he lets out a long breath before pushing both hands through his hair. On an exhale, he mutters, “Fuck,” and then pulls me into his chest, his strong arms spreading warmth through my body. “I’m sorry, Eve. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I start to thaw from our fight. “I’m not good at this shit. I’m sorry.”

At least he’s good at apologizing.

I cling to him. “Please don’t accuse me of thinking poorly of you again. It’s hurtful. My opinion of you is so much higher than you could even fathom, and it has nothing to do with what you do or where you live but everything to do with the heart that beats inside your chest.”

“Damn, Eve, that’s some serious talk.” He chuckles but then pulls me in tighter and lifts my chin so he can press a sweet kiss against my lips. “Thanks, babe.”

“Back to babe, huh?”

“Yeah, and since we just had a fight, you know what that means, right?” He raises his eyebrows, and I’m about to roll my eyes when he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me up the narrow staircase to his bedroom loft.

He tosses me on the mattress and reaches behind him to pull his shirt up and over his head. The fabric drops to the floor, and my eyes sweep over his sculpted body, taking in every glorious inch, every corded muscle, and every ripple in his abdomen.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe we really should fight more.



“I like that you don’t wax your chest.” I run my fingers through the trimmed hair scattered over his brawny pecs. It’s minimal, the perfect amount, and super sexy, topping off the masculine appeal he seems to carry so easily.

“Don’t have time for it. Do you know who does?”

“Brig.” I don’t even have to consider my answer. I think that deep down inside, Brig considers himself a hero in a romance novel and attempts to embody that role every chance he gets—and waxing his chest is just one of the necessary tasks in achieving his Fabio aspirations.

“Yup,” Reid answers, his hand plastered against my ass, keeping our naked bodies as close together as possible.

Reid Knightly has always been devastatingly handsome. From his blue eyes to the swagger in his step to the curve of his jaw, he’s never failed to make my heart skip a beat whenever he stepped into a room.

But Reid Knightly in the bedroom takes it to a whole new level. The dirty talk, his naked body . . . his penis. God, just thinking about it makes my stomach flip with excitement. He commands control, handling me with care but also with an edge of possession, and when he sinks into me, his face shifts to pure bliss. It’s beyond fulfilling, knowing I can take down such a strong man.

“Brig is something special.”

“He lives in another world.” Reid laughs. “I always wonder what it would be like to live his life, live in his head. He’s a smart motherfucker and has built an amazing company, and I think a lot of it has to do with the land he lives in.”

“The land?”

“He doesn’t worry about real things. It’s like he lives in a land where unicorns deliver mail and cupcakes grow on trees. The real world is tinted by the rose-colored glasses he seems to wear all the time. The only true worry he has is whether he’s going to die alone. He’s told me he’s had nightmares about it.”

I giggle. Oh, poor Brig. “That’s a valid concern. But hey, if Griffin and Rogan can break the curse, there’s hope for you two.”

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Can we not talk about that shit?”

“Come on, do you really think you’re cursed?”

He’s silent for a second, just the smooth sound of his breathing filling the calm as his hand slowly strokes my skin. I’m surprised he even has to think about it.

“Do you know that happened the same night I found out about the restaurant?”

“When what happened? The curse?”

He nods. “Yeah. Right after, actually. We were at a bar, getting pretzels, still kind of reeling over the encounter.” He presses a kiss to my head. “It was weird, Eve. I still don’t know what to make of the whole thing. We were drunk, so the incident feels a little fuzzy to begin with, at least the before part, but I still can’t get over the look in that lady’s eyes. It felt so real in that moment, like something was really shifting in our lives.”

“And what about after?”

“We blew it off. Yeah, it was some coincidental timing with the wind and all that shit, but who really wants to believe in a curse? At least I tried to not believe in it.”