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31
Aunt Helena drops me off at the house and leaves again. Eager for a moment with Reid, I mosey down the passage to his door, knock, and wait. He doesn’t answer.
I enter the room and observe his space. It’s way more mature than back then. I like the gray walls, dark curtains, and black furniture.
Setting his king-sized bed against a wooden accent wall is a great look. And I like the sleek gray built-in shelves displaying books, awards, and certificates.
On the nightstand by his bed are pictures of him with Aunt Helena and the last photo we took together at eleven. The sight of it warms my heart.
I peek into his large bathroom, upgraded and modernized; very clean with gleaming white marble tile and a large shower and tub. Next is his walk-in closet chockful of formal and casual clothes and an immense collection of shoes.
“Damn,” I murmur.
At the sound of the door, I step back into the bedroom. Reid pauses when he sees me, intrigue filling his gaze.
I act innocent. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey.” He shuts the door and locks it, asking in a sexy tone, “Do you need me?”
“I was just bored. Where did you go?”
“For a ride.” He moves forward and encircles his arms around my waist.
I squint at him. “For a ride on the bike your mom told you to get rid of?”
A sly expression veils his face. “I left it at Mark’s.”
“Geez.”
He conquers my mouth with a hungry kiss, backing me up until we tumble onto the bed.
“I just want to hold you,” he clarifies as if he senses my nervousness. He shifts over and heaves me into his arms.
We lie in silence for a minute before I ask, “How come you chose a bedroom at the back of the house instead of upstairs with the rest?”
“Cause Grandfather didn’t want me upstairs.”
I crease my brows. “What? When did he say that?”
“When Mom brought me home. I like this room. It was easier to sneak you in here back then, and it’s easier to sneak out at night without using the stairs.”
“Hm.”
We fall quiet again.
“So, how was the visit to the company?”
A smile curls my lips as I recall the enlightening tour. “Pretty cool. I learned a lot.”
“Would you work there after college?”
“Um, who knows. I haven’t thought about the future like that.”
We’re quiet again until he says, “Tell me something you haven’t told me yet.”
I consider it, then turn to him and say softly, “I wrote you letters for every birthday, up until your sixteenth.”
Reid scrunches up his face. “I never got letters.”
