Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths #4)(102)

“To a kid who sees that day in, day out, it can be everything.”

“I guess.” She sighs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why Mom didn’t boot his ass out years ago. We all would have been better off. I mean, look at Josh. It’s like he tumbled right out of the mold. Did you know he was seeing that other woman for two months before Karen found out? Thank God she dumped his ass. He deserved it.”

“At least he’s trying to get help for the drinking,” I offer half-heartedly.

She sits up slowly. “The rest of us aren’t much better. Rita wants Jake to propose now that she’s pregnant, and he won’t. I’m a suspicious freak.” She throws a casual hand my way. “And look at you.”

“Look at me, what? Hey, I haven’t lied or cheated on anyone. I’ve made zero commitments.”

“Yeah.” She turns to look at me, the moonlight highlighting the sadness on her face. “And you’re going to miss out on all the wonderful things that come with committing. Just think how nice it would be to have one person that you trust so completely.” More matter-of-factly, she states, “Reese was here on Sunday. She saw it all. She’s a part of this, whether you like it or not. You should ask her to come up for Friday.”

I hold up my phone. “I did. No response and I know she’s read it. Maybe she doesn’t want to come. I wouldn’t blame her. It’s a funeral, Elsie. Not a party.”

“What’d you say to her?” Elsie frowns as I let my phone fall into her hand. Scanning the text message, she groans and then flicks me in the ear. “You’re such a dumbass.” Tossing the phone at my chest, she stands and walks toward the door, shaking her head. “Tell her you barely noticed the girl and that you want her to come. Good night.” The door closes softly behind her.

And I’m left staring at my phone, wondering if Reese is already asleep. Listening to my big sis, I quickly type out:

I didn’t screw around with anyone and I want you to come to the funeral. Please.

And I wait.

Chapter 31

REESE

I stare at the screen of my phone as my brain begins to process what my heart has already figured out.

I have a real thing for Ben.

A thing that made my insides clench up when I read that awful joke he made about women throwing themselves at him; that made disappointment swell when he told me his mother wanted me at the funeral, and then made my entire being melt in relief with this last text.

Friends go to their friends’ parents’ funerals. That’s normal. I’m sure Ben will have lots of friends there to support him. That’s why he’s asking me to come. It’s a f**king funeral! His father’s funeral!

And I know that I want it to mean more.

Okay. I’ll be there.

I stare.

With my chin resting in the palm of my hand, I stare out the glass, over the cubicles, to the empty, dimmed office, picturing that giant guy with his deep, adorable dimples, walking by my office with that big grin, throwing me a wink.

And I keep losing my train of thought as I picture myself hopping on my bike and going to see him. To see how he’s doing. To make sure he’s not reacquainting himself with the neighborhood’s female population.

“Oh God,” I groan. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” The cool wood feels soothing against my forehead as I gently bang my head against my desk. Jack was right. Here I am, already bringing it into the workplace. What if it means nothing? Then what? What happens when he comes back? What happens when another stripper strolls in? Or I see him flirting with another woman? I feel like I have something to lose here.

Ben has wormed his obnoxious self into my heart. I’m actually starting to feel sorry for Mercy, and all the other girls he has surely left in his wake. The scariest thing is that he does it by being himself—a kind, funny, easygoing guy who sends a text to say hi and calls to ask a girl to sing to him because he wants to. He doesn’t hide who he is; he doesn’t lie or promise anything. He doesn’t play stupid head games. Whether those girls are completely clueless and fall into the accidental trap or stand on the edge and knowingly do a swan dive into it, like I just did, we all eventually fall for Ben’s charm.

And now I can’t breathe under the weight of those consequences. I need to get out of here.

“I got you an extra-big piece!” By the giddiness on the waitress’s face, you’d think she was serving a movie star.

“Thanks.” With a sigh, I break off a chunk and slide the tangy filling into my mouth, letting it melt over my taste buds.

Ben was right. Sometimes, change is good.

“And?” It’s so sudden, so close to me, and so unexpected, that I jump. “What do you think? Isn’t it the best key lime pie you’ve ever had?” Good grief. She’s actually watching me eat. It’s beyond irritating.

Maybe that’s why I decide to be a complete bitch and say, “I’ve had better.” It’s true. I have. At a lovely little citrus grove about two hours north, surrounded by laughter and love and friendship. But when she turns and leaves, a deflated frown on her face, I instantly feel guilty.

“Reese?”

My stomach drops at the sound of his voice. I turn back to find familiar green eyes staring down at me. “Jared?” This is so not what I need to deal with right now.