Page 105 of Reeves

Charli steps back as I move into the hallway. She pulls Benjy's door mostly closed, leaving it cracked just enough to hear if he calls out.

We stand there in the narrow space, not speaking for a moment.

"He went down easy tonight." Her voice is barely above a whisper.

"The helicopter book probably helped."

She nods, but she's still looking at me. "You're good with him."

My grip tightens slightly at my side. I hold her gaze a second longer, then drop it, like that might take the weight out of what she just said.

Charli shifts her weight, and the movement brings her a step closer. Close enough that I catch the faint scent of her soap again. Without thinking about it, I inhale it deeply and close my eyes for a moment, holding on to all of the feelings that are attached to it.

I look back up.

Her eyes flick to my mouth and then back again so fast I almost miss it.

The space between us is thinner now. Charged.

For a second, neither of us moves.

I’m close enough to see the way her breath inflates the little dip at the base of his neck. Close enough that it would take nothing to close the distance.

My hand flexes at my side.

I’m close enough to feel the heat coming off her. If I shift even a fraction, I’d brush her.

Staying here tonight might be the most dangerous decision I’ve made in years.

Because standing in her hallway, looking at her like this, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop what's coming.

TWENTY-FOUR

Charli

The Release:After the cut, mourners look at one another. Some laugh. Some cry. In New Orleans, most do both at the same time.

The hallway is way toosmall for two adults to stand in it for any extended amount of time without touching. Reeves is close enough that I’m aware of every inch of space between us, the quiet weight of him after the story he just finished reading.

Neither of us says anything until I move.

“Should we get out of this dark, awkward hallway before one of us accidentally leans on the light switch?”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that.

“Surely there is a less awkward place for us to go.”

We move at the same time, stepping toward the kitchen. The house is different now that Benjy is asleep. We no longer have him to ease the tension between us.

I lean against the counter while Reeves pulls his arms behind his back and stretches.

"I've noticed you seem to favor your left shoulder. Are you injured?"

He looks a little surprised that I asked or even noticed. I quickly add, "I'm an occupational therapist. I notice these things."

He huffs out a quiet breath, like he’s deciding whether to brush it off or answer honestly.

“Old injury.”