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“Best sushi in Clearwater,” he murmurs as we grab seats at one of only a few tables in the whole place. “Best in SoCal, probably. This place is amazing. I found it on my second day at Sterling Minor, and I’ve been dying to bring someone here. I’m glad it’s you.”
A blush works its way up my cheeks, and I look away from his striking eyes to focus on the menu. If he were anyone else, I might think he was laying it on a little thick with his sweet words and intense glances.
But with Reese, it’s not like that. He’s not putting on an act. If anything, it’s like now he can finally say all the things he’d been wanting to for a long time. Like he’s been holding all of this inside his heart for too many months, too many years, and now it can finally come out.
“I didn’t know you were such a discerning foodie,” I say, nudging his foot with mine under the table as I grin at him.
His answering grin sends a wave of butterflies cascading through my stomach. “Oh, there are definitely some things you still don’t know about me, Ems.”
“Really?” I cock an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“When I was little, I once wore a ninja-turtle costume to school three days in a row.”
A laugh bursts out of me, filling the small restaurant with the sound. “Oh, I knew that. West sold you out a long time ago, buddy.”
Reese rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “That fucker.”
Still chuckling, I pick up my menu. “Hey, isn’t that what friends are for? To know you better than you know yourself?”
Reese goes quiet for a moment, and my amused grin slips a little. Shit. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned their friendship when things are so strained between him, West, and Trent.
I’ve finally come to accept that it’s not my job to try to preserve their friendship—they need to do that on their own—but I doubt calling attention to how close they used to be is helping anything.
“Yeah,” Reese says finally, reaching across the table to tangle his fingers with mine. “It is what friends are for.”
The conversation shifts to other topics, and a few minutes later, a waiter comes by to take our order. We talk and laugh and eat so much sushi I swear I’ll have to be rolled out the door afterward, and as we’re finishing up the last roll, it strikes me how much I like this.
All of it.
I like spending time with Reese that’s just about enjoying each other’s company rather than dealing with some crisis or rehashing the fucked up history between us over and over again. I like how easy and right this feels. I like the way he watches me while I speak, as if he’s absorbing everything about me, and the way his sharp wit matches my own.
He used to be my closest confidant back in high school, and after the Icons turned on me, I never really found anyone else to fill that role. It feels like I’ve been missing an essential part of myself for years, and now I’ve finally found it again.
It feels incredible.
Reese pays for lunch with cash since the guys are still sorting out the shit Leslie did to their credit cards. When we step outside and start heading back down the sidewalk, I veer toward my bike, but he catches my hand, tugging me back toward him.
I go willingly, unable to resist the almost primal urge to be close to him, to feel encased against his muscular body. But I wrinkle my nose as I meet his gaze.
“I should get my bike. And you have to go back to campus, don’t you?”
He shakes his head, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Should. Don’t have to. Don’t want to.” He reaches up to tilt my head a little more toward his, his fingertips lingering on my chin. “Will you stay with me, Ems? Come home with me? I’ll come back for your bike, I promise.”
A shiver works its way through my body at the clear need in his words. If I say “no,” I’m sure he won’t force me or give me a hard time. But I can hear how much he needs me to say “yes.”
And in truth, it’s all I want to say.
So I do.
“Yeah.” I smile, catching his gaze. “I guess I can support you playing hooky for one day.”
His fingertips play across my waist as we turn away from my bike. He holds the passenger door on his car open for me, and when he slides in behind the wheel, another memory flashes through my mind—the first time Reese and I had sex. He was sitting in that exact seat, the car parked in a small, hidden lot behind my dorm building.
I had never had sex in a car before, but it wasn’t even a question that night. I needed him too badly to even think of stopping.
Similar feelings are building inside me right now, and I shift a little in my seat, a slow ache building between my legs. Reese doesn’t miss the movement, and his pupils dilate as he starts the car with a rumble of the engine. Then he whips out of his parking space so fast I swear we leave a trail of burned rubber in our wake.
We don’t speak as we drive back to the Icons’ house. Our conversation at lunch felt so easy and natural, but now I don’t trust myself to say a word without giving away the feelings rampaging around inside my chest.
