A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(40)

“Together,” I repeat. “What does that even mean? Your life is in California. Mine is here.” I take a step to the side and turn back to my meal preparations. “We’ll eat at the counter.” I was going to lay out the food on the coffee table, but I don’t trust myself on the sofa with him.

Reed takes the hint and begins sliding pizza slices onto plates. I get two sodas out of the fridge, and we sit down on my kitchen stools like any two friends sharing a meal.

As if it were that simple.

“You’re right,” Reed says after a few bites. “I love my job in California, but I let it take me away from this place for too long. I won’t be doing that again. I’m going to visit more often. It’s not right to stay away for so long.”

“Cool, cool,” I say. “So I can look forward to more emotional whiplash whenever you randomly show up to use the hot tub?”

Reed puts down his slice of pepperoni and props his handsome face on one hand. “I don’t have all the answers, Ava. But I’m trying to ask the right questions for once. Avoidance hasn’t worked for either of us. Just ask Harper.”

My chest squeezes at the thought of that beautiful, successful-looking woman showing up here. I shove a bite of Caesar salad into my mouth to cover up my discomfort. Then I make myself ask a polite question about her. “How long were you two together?”

He shrugs. “Maybe we went out half a dozen times? But we’re in the same circle of friends, so I’ve known her a while. She’s a great lady, but she didn’t stand a chance. Because she’s not you. Ten years ago, I left my heart on your doorstep—and never got it back.”

Oh boy. I wish he wouldn’t say things like that out loud. Not that it doesn’t accurately portray my own romantic disasters of the last ten years. I’m starting to realize that Reed and I broke ourselves so completely that we might never be right again. Like that coffee mug on my desk—split right down the center.

“That sounds familiar,” I admit quietly.

“Look, I don’t want to put words in your mouth,” he says. “But I did a terrible job of moving on. And you’re not the only one in my life who probably noticed. I have a shitty relationship with my brothers. I dated a string of women like Harper, good people who I never gave a chance. Even my dad seems to have his shit together like a champ these days. But I spent the last ten years thinking I was the functional one, and he was the wreck. I don’t want that for you.”

Jesus. This new Reed—the one who admits his mistakes—is a little hard to take. “Don’t worry about me. I’m…” I was about to say fine. But fine isn’t really living, is it? “I’m coping. This job has been good for me. Except…” A slightly maniacal laugh honks out of me.

“Except what?”

A frisson of hysteria jolts through me and I laugh for a minute more. God, I am so tired right now. This has been one of the most exhausting days of my life. I take a deep breath. “Except I wonder what a therapist would say about my life choices. It’s totally normal to secretly relocate to your ex’s small town to work for his father. Right?”

Christ, I walk past his photo on the wall of Mark’s office every morning.

Reed grins, but he’s kind enough not to comment. He finishes his pizza instead.

I eat mine in a fog of intensifying exhaustion. And then I yawn so hard that my jaw cracks.

“You look beat,” Reed points out.

“That’s flattering,” I grumble. But we both know the reason I’m so tired is that I stayed up late being sick last night.

“I can sleep on your couch,” he offers. “Not my first choice, of course, but I don’t want to be presumptuous if that’s not what you need from me.”

I get up and put our plates in the dishwasher. Then I return to stand right in front of the stool where he’s finishing the last of his soda.

Why does he have to be so attractive to me? The connection that blossomed between us all those years ago is still there. Touching him seems so natural that I have to clasp my hands together to avoid it.

He sets the can down on the counter and studies me. “Are you okay, Ava?”

“I’m too tired to answer that question. Complicating my life with you again is scary.”

He takes my hand, lifts it to his mouth, and kisses my palm. The brush of his whiskers gives me goosebumps, and the tenderness in his eyes isn’t helping the flutter of confusion in my chest. “I think we did all the complicating already. The way I feel about you tonight is awfully simple.”

Oh boy. I’m having some pretty damned simple thoughts about him, too. But I don’t give in to them. “What I need right now is eight hours of sleep. And you probably do too.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, dropping my hand gently.

“But you can’t get that on my sofa. It’s too short for you. You can stay in the bed, and we can resume what I’m sure will be an emotionally fraught discussion tomorrow. With the possibility of additional bad decisions afterward.” I clear my throat. “Tomorrow.”

Reed grins. “Tomorrow, huh?”

“Right,” I say firmly.

His smile is that of a man who just won a prize. “Well, okay. I’m going to brush my teeth and get ready for bed.”