Page 100 of Reeves

Reeves doesn't notice. He's already turning toward the door, one hand finding the small of my back to steer me around the older couple coming inside.

“Thank you,” he answers easily, his voice perfectly normal, as if nothing unusual just happened.

As if he didn’t notice that we both stood there a beat longer than necessary.

Maybe he didn’t.

Reeves shifts slightly beside me, and when the automatic door opens, he rests his hand at the small of my back to guide me through. The touch is light, almost absentminded, just enough pressure to steer me around the older couple coming inside.

His hand drops away again once we’re clear of the doorway, but the brief warmth of it lingers.

The danger isn’t the groceries or the easy conversation or even the casual way Reeves’s hand found the small of my back.

The danger is how easily we slip into it.

TWENTY-THREE

Reeves

The Break:The cut arrives without warning and without ceremony. It is abrupt. It is unmistakable. Nothing sounds the same after it.

I carrythe heavier grocery bags in my left hand through Charli's front door while she manages the lighter ones.

The house smells the same as it did this morning when I used her shower. The scent is clean and warm, and one I never want to let go.

It isn’t perfume or candles. It’s her, the way her space exists.

"Benjy, go wash your hands before you start handling food," Charli calls as she sets her bags on the kitchen counter.

"Can I help with the burgers?"

"After you wash up. Use soap."

He disappears down the hallway, and I start pulling items from the bags without being asked. Ground beef first, then the buns and cheese. My hands move automatically, sorting through everything we bought.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

I didn't plan to be standing in her kitchen, seasoning hamburger meat like this was the most normal thing in the world.

But here I am. And it feels normal.

I press the patties onto a plate covered with a paper towel and head outside to the small patio where her grill sits covered under a blue tarp. The propane tank feels solid when I check the connection. I turn the gas on and light the burners, adjusting the flame until it burns steady and even.

The grill needs a few minutes to heat up, so I go back inside for the rest of the food. Charli has the frozen fries spread on a baking sheet, ready for the oven.

"How long do those need?"

"Twenty minutes. Maybe twenty-five if you want them extra crispy."

I nod and head back outside with the meat. Heat rises the second I lift the lid.

Benjy appears beside me as I uncover the plate.

"Why do you make them flat like that?"

"They cook more evenly."

"How do you know when to flip them?"