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My comings and goings in the kitchen don’t go unnoticed. As I’m frying my eggs, Reese comes in. “Morning,” he rumbles.
I glance over at him. He looks as rough as his voice sounds. I might have felt bad for him—if I’d suddenly suffered some blunt-force-trauma-to-the-head-induced amnesia and completely forgotten the last month of our lives. Unfortunately for him, my memory is working just fine, so as far as I’m concerned, he’s made his bed and now, he has to lie in it.
“Mm.” I go back to my eggs.
Reese sighs. I know he wants to say something, but he holds it back. Rather than speak to me, he goes and pours a cup of coffee. To my surprise, he slides it over to me when he’s done. I peer into it. A splash of half-and-half, a spoonful of sugar. That’s my mix. He made it for me.
“Thanks,” I mumble begrudgingly.
“No problem.”
As I finish up my breakfast, he makes his own coffee. I don’t offer to make him food and I sit at the dining table to tuck in myself. He seems to realize after a moment that there’s no food for him.
With a resigned sigh, he leans against the counter, looking at me. “I have something I’d like to talk to you about,” he begins.
I shove a sausage in my mouth and look him dead in the eyes as I chew. “Oh, you’re including me in plans this time? How thoughtful.”
Reese grimaces. “I don’t want to keep up making the same mistakes that I’ve been making the last few weeks.”
I scoff. “Took you long enough.”
“Don’t be like that, Olivia. I know I fucked up. I’m working on fixing it, okay?”
I shrug. “So what’s the master plan this time?”
“Well, I think we can both agree that things are a little tense,” he says. “I don’t think the usual haunts are the best place to be right now.”
“Are you suggesting another romantic cabin getaway? Because I think I’ll pass.”
Reese shakes his head. “No. I was actually thinking about a penthouse that I own. It’s in the city, closer to the rink. Means I’ll be able to get to you quicker if I need to and, since it’s not so isolated, it’ll be harder for someone to sneak around and do weird shit.”
I raise a brow. “You sure have a lot of random places stashed away I never knew about.” I don’t like the uneasy churn my stomach does at the thought of exactly why a rich, famous, good-looking hockey player might own romantic cabins in the countryside and clandestine apartments in the city. “What was that cabin for, anyway? And this penthouse?”
He looks at me, confused. “Why does it matter?”
“Answer the question. I’m tired of finding out new things about you that I feel I should have known a long time ago.”
Reese sighs and pushes his hand through his hair. “Fair enough. “The penthouse was an impulse buy shortly after I got signed to the Bulls. It was my ‘Look, Ma, I made it’ purchase. I think I’ve spent a total of two nights there ever since. The cabin… I got that when I was seriously trying to kick the drug habits. It was secluded, I didn’t have easy access to people who’d help me make shit choices, and it was peaceful out there. I could just walk for miles on the property and not come across anything. If you’re gonna quit coke cold turkey, there are worse places to do it.”
My brows furrow. “Why did you never tell me about that?”
“It’s not a nice part of my life, Olivia,” he explains in a hollow croak. “It’s been years, but that defined my life for a long time. It follows me. Hell, before you, I was still partying even if I wasn’t getting high. I got to a point where I felt safe out there and figured that you would, too. Clearly, I was wrong about that in so many ways.”
I regard him through squinted eyes. I don’t know what to say to that. Part of me is more curious about Reese’s time in the cabin. The other part of me is burned that the only interaction that I’ve had with that part of Reese’s life was forced on me through lies.
“I see.” I take another sip of my coffee and peer at him over the rim of the mug. “So you want us to stay at this penthouse,” I continue. “Am I allowed to go where I want? Do what I want? Or do you expect me to sit there on my hands in solitary confinement the whole time?”
“You can do what you want. I just want you to have your phone on you.” He tilts his head. “And be alright with some armed security.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is it going to be Blondie and Bozo again?”
Reese fumbles, blinking at me. “What?—?”
I shrug. “It’s what I named the guards since they wouldn’t talk about me the whole time.”
Reese chuckles. “Makes sense… But, no. It won’t be either of them. It’ll be a more discreet guy. He won’t even be in the penthouse proper.”
“Good. Being around those goons was fucking creepy.” I shove another sausage into my mouth. “I’ll agree to all this—on one condition.”
