Throttled (Wild Riders #1)(25)
“That was after I managed to convince them that I wasn’t the spawn of Satan you’ve been painting me as the past few years,” Reid said proudly, his smile not wavering. You would have thought he’d just solved the world hunger crisis by the way he was gloating.
I stood tight lipped for a moment. “That has yet to be determined.”
“I had to tell them that it was actually your suggestion that I stop by for a visit,” he explained. “Remember today in your office when I said you should come,” he paused and my eyes went wide when he wet his lips. Was he seriously making a sexual innuendo in front of my parents? Sure my mom was at the kitchen sink and my dad couldn’t see Reid’s face, but he could see mine. And, yet I still couldn’t stop myself from feeling the effect of his words rippling through my system—blood pumping, heart racing, ovaries threatening to burst. “I mean you said I should come see them,” he laughed. “These cookies are so good, Becky, I can’t even think straight” He chuckled, holding one up and taking a bite. He continued chewing, staring straight into my eyes and had yet to wipe the smug smile off his face.
“There’s plenty more, dear,” she said, taking another plate over to the table. “I’m just pleased that the two of you were able to put the past aside. I know you’ve probably missed each other terribly.”
“Mom,” I blurted out, nearly spitting a drink of water from my mouth.
“I know I’ve missed her,” Reid replied. As I stood there slack-jawed and dumbfounded by how this entire thing was playing out, it hit me. I had to be living in an alternate universe. Or maybe I was on a hidden camera show. My eye scanned the room for some sign that said this was all a bad dream. “Now if I could just convince her to stop avoiding me,” he added.
My mother’s lips threatened her input, but I shook my head and she kept it to herself. I know that my mom had always had this high school sweethearts love story in her head for Reid and me, but I thought when we’d broken up she’d buried it the same way I had. Just because my parents had been together practically since birth didn’t mean that my path was paved with the same everlasting love.
“Quite a lot of accomplishments for a Halstead boy, don’t you think?” my Dad asked, pulling me back to my actual reality and thankfully changing the subject. My mother might have been ignoring the tension that seemed to follow me into the room, but I could see by the look on my Dad’s face that he understood. I’d wondered why he didn’t shoot Reid the second he’d stepped onto their property. I remembered him promising a seventeen year old version of me that he would. I thought about calling him out on his lie, but my focus was drawn to the scrap book sitting in front of Reid.
“What are you doing with that?” I asked, pointing at the book.
“Reminiscing,” he said with a dreamy look in his eye. “Care to join us?” He pulled out the chair next to him.
“I think I’m good over here,” I pulled out one of the barstools from the island and sat.
“Oh, you look so pretty in this picture,” my mom beamed, pointing down at the book. “Your first prom. You remember that white dress?”
How could I forget it? Reid held up the book so that I could see. There I was, strapless white dress, my hair curled loose and pinned to one side and smiling like some love-drunk fool up into Reid’s eyes. Seeing a picture of him from back then allowed me to see exactly how much he’d changed. A bit taller. His shoulders had broadened out and everywhere he used to be lanky, he was now solid muscle. I turned my eyes from him and the picture the second I felt my resolve start to crumble.
“That’s great,” I said under my breath.
My mother would have had a stroke right there in the kitchen if she knew that white dress she loved so much ended up on the bedroom floor of the Travers’ cabin where we had our after party. And that her sweet daughter lost her virginity to the overachieving motocross star sitting at her kitchen table enjoying her chocolate chip cookies. There was a passing thought of mentioning the post-prom events, followed by one where my dad actually shot Reid dead for deflowering his little girl, but I decided against it. That night, those memories, those were actually ones I wanted to hold onto.
I remembered how nervous I was. How nervous Reid was. Both of us inexperienced and unsure. We’d been perfecting making out for quite some time and both of us thought we were ready to take the next step. He’d planned such a sweet, romantic evening—candles, roses, soft music—everything a girl dreamed about. I remembered thinking just how lucky I was to have such a terrific boyfriend. One who cherished me and made sure that I was comfortable with every move he made. While that memory was all well and good, the ones that followed that next summer were not.
“You looked like a princess,” she continued to gush. “Didn’t she look beautiful that night, Reid?”
“She looks beautiful all the time.” He responded to my mother, but his eyes were on me.
“I’ve got to get back to my run,” I said, standing abruptly. He had to quit saying things that made me forget to hate him. He was making it entirely too hard to stay mad at him and I was really good at it. I was the Be-Mad-At-Reid State Champion, seven years running.
I kissed my mom on the cheek and patted my dad on the back as I darted out the back door. I pushed myself harder on the second part of my run, needing to get as far away from that house—and him—as I could.