Getting Schooled (The Wright Brothers #1)(40)

“Mr. Bestseller.”

She nodded. “Is that the one who was with you at the bookstore that day?”

“Yeah. Arranging a signing that he’s going to do for an upcoming book.”

“Oh wow!” She took another slow sip from her glass. “I’ve never read his stuff before, is it good? And tell the truth.”

I laughed. “What? Yeah, his stuff is good. I wouldn’t claim his ass if it wasn’t.”

“What does he write? Nonfiction? SciFi?”

I tipped my head to the side. “Uhh… hard to say, actually. He writes in a couple of different genres. Some literary fiction that deals with relationships, a couple of thrillers. One big review called him a cross between Walter Mosley and Eric Jerome Dickey.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wow. Those are some pretty big comparisons.”

“Yeah. He hates that shit, but it comes with the territory I guess. Real talk though, he’s good. I can bring you some.”

She shook her head. “Nah, I’ll purchase. Support his art. But I’m coming to your ass for my money back if I don’t like it.”

“Why me?!”

“Cause you made the recommendation. Is there any sex in his books?”

I laughed. “Yeah, in a couple.”

“Write those titles down for me. That’s what I wanna read.”

“Are you serious, Reese?”

She giggled, then took another sip from her glass. “Hell yes! It’s getting cold out too? One of my most favorite things is curling up right here, with some wine, and a good book – if there’s good sex in it, even better. So if your brother fucks up my vibe, you’re gonna hear about it.”

“Alright, alright. I can accept that. I’ll get you a list.”

“Thank you.”

Neither of us said anything for a few moments, and Reese finished off her glass of wine. She grabbed the bottle, topped off my glass, and then poured the rest for herself. As she sipped from her fresh glass, her eyes raked over me, and then settled on my leg.

“May I?”

I didn’t really know what she was asking, but I nodded anyway, finishing off my glass in one big gulp as she reached for the leg of my sweat pants. Her eyes stayed on my face as she tugged it upward, exposing my prosthetic.

“Is it weird that I think this is really cool?” she asked, cautiously running her fingers over the stylized metal.

I chuckled, watching the wonder on her face as she examined it up close. “Not really… mine is purposely designed to look badass. I had a few friends from my army days who did mechanical engineering once they left the military. They spun that knowledge into the biomedical field. I reached out to them, and let them basically experiment with me. Ended up with this prosthetic, that I actually haven’t had that long, and a more functional one that I use when I go running.”

“Running? So, you’re pretty well acclimated to using it then?”

“Yeah. I’ve been using a prosthetic for about two years. I’ve only had this particular one for about six months though. But back to your question, trust me. I’d rather you think it looks cool than some of the other reactions I tend to get.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Which are…?”

“Freaking out. Feeling sorry for me. Treating me like I’m frail.”

“Oh whatever, Jason. You look like the fucking Terminator, nobody is treating you like you’re frail. I don’t believe that.”

I shrugged. “You’d be surprised then. The incident was a little under three years ago. I’ve been through surgery, physical therapy, learning how to use the prosthetic, all of that, and I’ve seen a lot of different reactions throughout that time.”

“You did all of that here?”

“Nah. When they sent me back stateside, I was out in Cali. I actually loved it out there, and the engineering industry is booming. I came back home to be with my family while I do the school thing, but I might accept an internship, and go back when I’m done.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I’d been watching her fingers as the traveled over the lines and grooves of my prosthetic. But something about her inflection over those last words made me look up, and there was marked dejection in her eyes as she turned toward the fire, and swallowed the last bit of wine in her glass.

“Hey… what’s up?” I asked, reaching for her hand, only to have her pull it away.

“Nothing.”

I wrinkled my forehead, and that turned into a full-on frown when she suddenly got up and walked in the kitchen, grabbing the empty wine bottle and glasses as she went.

What the fuck just happened?

I followed her into the kitchen, grabbing her at the waist to turn her in my direction. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you right now?”

She gave me a crazy look, like she didn’t know what I was talking about. “I’m good.”

“But tell me what’s on your mind anyway. You’ve never had a problem doing that.”

“It’s nothing, damn!” She pushed her way out of my grasp, then stalked over to the corner to toss the wine bottle in the recycle bin. “Just thinking too hard.”

I chuckled a little. “No such thing.”

Reese sucked her teeth, shaking her head as she turned to face me. “Um, yeah. There definitely is.”