My Favorite Half-Night Stand(16)

On the outside Reid is totally cool—nodding and following along while I speak—but I know him well enough to understand that he’s cataloging this scrap of information and slotting it into the gap in his Millie Bank where most of my pre–Santa Barbara history remains blank to him.

“What about yours?” I ask. “Your parents’ vineyard?”

Reid leans back in his chair and scratches his chin—the questionnaire forgotten for now. And I love this about him—how his love for connecting with people makes him the easiest person to hang out with. I wish I were more like him in this way. “Maybe,” he muses. “Or the drive to San Gregorio? It’s hilly, and full of redwoods. Totally gorgeous—and even better if you can do it on a bike.”

“Who did you do that with?”

“Friends in grad school, mostly. Chris and I did it once, and Dad met us on the beach with sandwiches and contraband beer.”

“Is that when Chris and your father fell in love?” Chris and James Campbell have a famous bromance that makes Ed and Alex sick with jealousy.

Reid laughs. “Probably.” But then he blinks, and grins at me like he sees through my deflection. “Next question,” he says, lifting his chin to me. “First kiss.”

“Hmm.” I stand, gathering our plates and carrying them back to the kitchen. I feel Reid’s attention on my back the entire way, and want to rub a hand down my neck or call him on his intense stare, but that might lead to him asking why it makes me uncomfortable, and what would I say? It makes me uncomfortable to talk about myself because I’ve always been either tragic or boring? Or maybe, It makes me uncomfortable to talk about myself with you watching me, because I still remember the way you looked down at me in my bed and I shouldn’t be thinking about you like that anymore?

“I was fourteen,” I tell him. “I had this weird worry about our noses hitting, so I just opened my mouth and spun my tongue around a few times. His name was Tim Chen and he looked a little confused when we pulled away but didn’t complain.” I grin over my shoulder. “I assure you I’m a much better kisser now.”

“Oh, I know,” Reid says with a hoarse laugh, and then seems to realize what he’s said as soon as I do. “Shit, there it is.” We go silent and he adds, “I made it weird.”

My laugh is a sharp, awkward bark into the room.

“Okay, no, that noise made it weird,” he says, rounding the counter and moving to stand next to me. “What was that?”

“A laugh?”

He sets his empty glass in the tray and when I look over I notice his lashes, and the feathery shadows they leave on his cheekbones. I’ve never really noticed things like eyelashes on Reid before, but now I’m remembering the way they looked with his eyes closed tight, head thrown back and the muscles of his throat straining.

I shut off the water. This tension is exactly the kind of thing the Morning After/Are We Okay? cupcake was meant to eradicate—it was supposed to provide sexual closure.

Get it together, Millie.

“We’re always pretty weird,” I say, using my metaphorical broom to gather all sexy thoughts and sweep them under the metaphorical rug. “The sex just made us weirder.”

“Our half-night stand?” he asks, and his smile is an adorable concoction of self-deprecating and sweet.

I shake my head. Must resist the cute nerd. “Stop. You can’t pull off internet lingo.”

“Come on,” he says, laughing, “you guys act like I’m my dad’s age. I’m thirty-one! I am the internet.”

Reid sidles up beside me, reaching back and gripping the edge of the counter. I swear my pulse rockets forward when I catch the scent of his soap. I’m not sure I’ve ever thought about sex this much—even when I’ve been in actual sexual relationships with other people.

“And I’m glad things aren’t actually weird between us,” he says.

I manage an easy smile of agreement.

Nope.

Not weird.

Not even a little.

He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s different, but not weird. I didn’t mean to bring it up again, though.”

I reach out, booping his nose with my index finger. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll say something way more awkward the next time I make us something with eggplant.”

“You said eggplant, not baby carrot. I’m not going to complain.”

“Oooo-kaaaaay.” I dry my hands and walk back into the dining room. “How about we finish these on our own and call it a night?”

Read: How about if you stop being cute and leave me to my vibrator?

Reid is obviously pleased with himself. “Too far? How about cucumber? No? White asparagus?”

I close his laptop and place it in his hands. “Good night, Reid. Thanks for feeding me. If you didn’t bring dinner I would have been left to gnaw on a rind of old cheese.”

“You are the frattiest woman I have ever met,” he says.

“It’s Manchego. I defy you to find a frat house with Manchego.”

“You know I love you,” he says, smile straightening as we near the door. My heart clenches a little at the sincerity in his voice. Reid is so good. I could never risk screwing this up over something as trivial as sex.