My Favorite Half-Night Stand(39)

I stand, and we’re so close I can feel the heat emanating from her body. I have a wild urge to kiss her, like I need to confirm that she’s serious. It’s short, just a brush of my mouth over hers, but she chases it a little, eyes heavy. Anyone inside would only have to turn and look out the window to see us, so it isn’t smart to do this here, but I’m too thunderstruck to be cautious.

The first time was the last time, at least that’s what I thought. But has she been wanting this again, and only just worked up the nerve? It doesn’t sound like Millie. Or is it an impulsive thing, to be hosed down tomorrow and put away in storage inside of us again?

Right now I’m not sure I care.





chapter nine


        millie


After the briefest brush of his lips, Reid takes a step back, leaving what I assume is a platonic amount of distance between us. But I’m a little woozy from both the wine and his proximity so I chase him, stopping only when his eyes swing to the picture window where the rest of our group is congregated inside, loudly playing cards.

Right. Witnesses.

Reid takes my iPad, turning it over in his hands. I send up a silent prayer that I closed the app before locking the screen. For a second, things get too quiet; I think he’s going to gently remind me that we’re not doing this again.

That we should definitely not do this again.

But then, he looks up at me and half grins, eyes dark. “Why don’t you head up first?”

Static fills my bloodstream. “Okay. My room?” At the end of the hall, it makes the most sense.

Nodding, he says, “I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

I take my iPad, grab my blanket, and head inside before I can say something that will make one or both of us change our minds. I have no idea what we’re doing. All I know is his messages are sweet and it felt good to open up a little. His family is amazing and his house is so relaxing and I like spending time with him more than with any other human on the planet. He likes Cat, and Cat is me, and we’re going upstairs to have sex.

I’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.

Inside, I’m hit with a wall of sound as soon as I open the door.

“Oh good.” Ed’s face brightens when he sees me, and he steps forward, gripping my arm and pulling me into his conversation. “Mills, tell them about that girl I met on the cruise. The one with the leg,” he says, and motions for me to take the floor.

His cheeks are pink from what I can only guess is a case of beer, and he’s got that cartoonish grin plastered on his face. I don’t have to see Reid to know he’s watching me with amusement from outside, wondering how I’ll extricate myself from happy, tipsy Ed. Once he gets going it’s almost impossible to get away.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, I have to get in and out before anyone notices I have my I’m about to have sex! face on.

I frown. “Actually, I think I’m heading to bed.” I rub my stomach. “Feeling sort of . . . oof.”

Sharon stands, and the look of concern on her face is so similar to her son’s, I’m momentarily thrown. “You’re not feeling well, honey?”

I wave her off, wishing I’d been stealthier when sneaking in. In hindsight, hopping the fence to come in through the front door seems a lot easier than this. “I just really enjoyed the ribs, I think.”

Ed’s face falls, and Rayme sticks out her bottom lip in a sweet pout that is thoroughly catalogued by every nonrelative male in the house—including, I notice, Chris.

“But you’re not really even drunk yet,” she says.

I point to Ed. “He’s drunk enough for both of us. Can’t let that one out of your sight.”

With that, I’m allowed to make my escape.

Unfortunately, victory is short-lived, because once I’m in my room, panic descends: what tripped my mood wasn’t just how sweet Reid was being, it was the sudden, heated flash of awareness that if Daisy and Reid hit it off, Daisy will see Reid naked.

I may not have a clue what I want beyond tonight, but I certainly don’t want anyone else to see Reid naked but me.

And then there’s the reality that he agreed so easily. Has he been thinking about doing this again and waiting for me to take the initiative? Am I going to make an enormous knot of confused emotions with my best friend?

I am immediately distracted by something equally pressing. “Oh my God.” I haven’t shaved my legs in . . . ho boy.

Trying to triage this appearance situation—and knowing I don’t have time to shave all my parts before Reid gets here, even if he does get waylaid by Tipsy Ed—I pull my hair out of its bun, fluff it, but then tie it up again. I throw off my clothes and pull on my pajamas, but then start to put all my clothes back on again so I don’t seem too . . . eager? I manage to get my shirt on before I catch my reflection in the vanity mirror, noting the eyeliner situation currently pooling beneath my lids.

I pull out a makeup wipe, trying to scrub away the mess, but then Reid knocks, walks in, and does a mild double take in reaction to the mess of my mascara all around my eyes.

“Wow. What’s up, Rocky?” His eyes drop to my shirt, which I’ve put on backward, and my bare legs beneath. “You . . . okay?”

“Shit.” I scrub at my eyes. “Yes.”