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I drop the subject of the secret I told him, happy to move away from it. I’ve spent a long time thinking about the fight before Mom’s accident, and I still haven’t forgiven myself for what I said to her. I’ll carry that heartbreak and guilt with me until the day I die, and I’m okay with that. Sometimes it feels like I need to carry it with me, to remind myself never to take love for granted again.
And I meant what I said. I truly am grateful to Reese for keeping my secret, even when he and the other Icons decided they hated me.
But I still don’t know if I can trust him. Maybe he had his own private reasons for not turning my confession around on me and using it to destroy me. I can’t let one moment of kindness blind me to his capacity for cruelty.
As the washing machines hum beside us, our conversation keeps going from light to tense, tense to light—but that’s to be expected between me and Reese. It’s always been that way. And I do sense that he cares for me, but there's so much other fucked up stuff between us that I don’t know if it matters.
Over an hour later, Reese opens up the dryer that just wobbled to a stop. “I’m almost done here.”
“Me too.”
“I’m feeling like the king of the wor
ld right now, what with so many fresh shirts,” he says with a grin.
I roll my eyes at him, chuckling. “King of the shirts, maybe.”
“Hey. As long as I’m the king of something.” He waves a shirt around in the air like a flag. “All hail the king!”
How is it that, no matter what happens between us, Reese can always make me laugh? It’s like his fucking super power or something. Honestly, I think that he uses it to his advantage, lulling me into feeling more comfortable with him than I should, by all rights. But he’s the one I’m most at ease with out of the three Icons, and that’s saying a lot.
“Do you always come to this laundromat?” he asks.
“Are you trying to say, ‘do you come here often?’” I joke, and Reese’s easy laugh settles in my chest, way too close to my heart.
“I guess so.” He grins, pulling his full bottom lip between his teeth. His green eyes gleam with amusement and… something else. Something heavier and hotter. “So, do you come here often?”
“No.” I twist my hair around my fingers. “I usually do my laundry at my dad’s, but only when he picks me up. I don’t have a car, and it’s hard to bike with a basketful of laundry. It’s only a ten-minute walk here from campus, so I can walk.”
“You walked?” He looks vaguely impressed, like I trekked up a mountain to come here instead of just walking a few blocks.
“Yeah.” I fix him with a fake scowl. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m not that much of a delicate flower.”
The heat in his eyes burns brighter, and his voice drops a little. “Oh, I know, Ems.”
Flushing under the burning warmth of his gaze, I stand up to start gathering my things. “I only walked tonight because I didn’t want to bother Dad. I figure he’s spending so much time with Claire that I have to give him some space.”
The real truth is that I find hanging out with my dad and Claire incredibly awkward. I can’t look at her without thinking of Trent, and that sends a confusing mix of emotions spiraling through me.
Reese raises his brows. “Trent’s mom?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s all that going?”
“I—I think they’re in love. It’s crazy. I just wish things between me and Trent were more…”
Shit, what do I say?
“More?”
“Calm.”
“Things seemed calm this past week,” Reese replies, and there’s a dark seriousness in his voice.
“I guess so.” I grab my basket, looking down at my folded clothes so Reese can’t see my shame.
I’ve done a good job this week, all things considered. In our Team Six meeting, I tried like hell to keep it from being obvious that anything had happened between me and Trent. I’m determined to pretend that’s the truth—to act as if nothing happened.
