His Reverie (Reverie #1)(10)

Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I want to know what it’s like to be wild and free. Maybe I want to ask Nicholas if he’d take me out on a date. Maybe I want him to kiss me…

He looked mad when Evan picked me up. I thought he knew I had a brother but maybe he hadn’t met Evan yet. We went into town and bought Mama a birthday present and Evan let me sneak in a special dress for me to wear at her party. She’s a Fourth of July baby. I came two weeks after and she likes to call me her late birthday present. When I was little we would have joint birthday parties but now she wants one all to herself.

I think she likes all the attention. She says the fireworks are just for her and Daddy agrees. I think he says that to keep her happy. Not much else does lately.

I love fireworks. The bright lights and the way they sparkle. The colors and the loud boom that rattles through my chest, throughout my entire body…

A book I read a few months ago said that the perfect kiss felt like fireworks. I want to know what that’s like.

With Nick.

6

Weak: not strong.

June 30th

I’m at home alone, hiding out in the living room with the lights off, the TV off, everything dark. Except for my phone. I’m curled up on the couch with an old quilt my grandma made when I was little, Google becoming my best friend as I do a search for Reverend Harold Hale.

There’s so much on the guy it’s unbelievable. He has an entire channel on YouTube. He has a dedicated website, numerous magazine articles about his ministry, television features, his TV show…the works. He’s everywhere. I had no idea how popular he was.

I remember that disclosure statement they had me sign when I first started working for him. That I wouldn’t release any sort of information to the media, not even the color of the guy’s socks, or else I’d put myself at risk for being fired.

Now I totally get why. He’s a media sensation. Everyone wants a piece of him.

So then I decided to Google Reverie Hale.

There’s not nearly as much information about her and most of it is old. Seems like the Hale kids fell out of the spotlight a few years ago. Reverie and her brother Evander don’t even make appearances on the television show anymore but there’s a lot of old footage out there. And pictures. Tons of pictures. My favorite is of a cute little Reverie in a white dress, her hair pulled back and topped with a snowy white bow, a shy smile on her face as she stood with her family.

She was adorable. And on such blatant public display for most of her life along with her brother…then they weren’t. I wonder what happened. What changed that? Why were they taken out of the public eye so fast?

I can’t ask her. It’s none of my business.

There’s a knock at my door but I ignore it. It’s late, past eleven at night and I’m definitely not expecting any guests. I keep it low key because I’m living on my own since Mom died and I’m still underage though I don’t feel it. Child Protective Services would probably try and throw me into foster care until I turn eighteen or something stupid like that and that is the last thing I need. I don’t know why they haven’t come sniffing around already but whatever.

CPS isn’t knocking on my door this late at night though. Who the hell could it be? And why are they so persistent? The knocks just keep on coming, getting fiercer with every attempt.

“Nick! I know you’re in there,” a voice yells from the other side of the door and I sit up straight, surprise and irritation coursing through me.

I recognize that voice. It’s my neighbor, Krista. She’s my age. We’ve known each other forever, since elementary school. She was my first kiss. My first real girlfriend. The first girl I had sex with. I had sex with her right after I got out of jail too.

She called it my welcome home present.

“Nick! Open the damn door. I can see the glow from your phone through the window, ass**le. Why are you avoiding me?”

Krista is super classy too. Though I really shouldn’t bag on her. We’re the same, Krista and I. We grew up in the same neighborhood and our moms were acquaintances. It’s a natural progression, Krista and I ending up together. I broke up with her in the middle of sophomore year and she got so pissed at me. I blew her chances to go to prom, she accused. I didn’t really care. I got sick of her neediness. And her disloyalty to me.

Two months later, I’m accused of a crime I didn’t commit. By my very best friend—the same guy she screwed around with that eventually led to our breakup. My life changed completely.

And she wasn’t there for me. She was before. She definitely was after. But during the hard stuff, when I struggled and I needed a friend to stand by my side? Nope. Krista disappeared.

She knocks again, rattling the cheap-ass door so bad I’m afraid she’s gonna punch a hole through it. I climb off the couch and go to answer it, wrenching the door open to find Krista standing on my doorstep, looking practically naked in a red string bikini top that barely covers her tits and the tiniest white shorts I’ve ever seen.

I immediately think of Reverie. What would she look like in an outfit like Krista’s? Fucking hot, is what.

“There you are.” She reaches out, plants her hand in the center of my chest and shoves me as she walks inside, slamming the door behind her. “You’re looking good, Fairfield. Where ya been?”

“Krista. Wassup.” I grab hold of her bare upper arms, telling myself I need to stay immune to her charms. Because she’s got them. The girl is sexy and she knows it. All that wavy brown hair, the pretty, sometimes overly made-up face and the tempting curves. She is stacked. And her ass is pretty damn tight.