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Okay, sure, I may have stalked the band’s social media pages a few times.
It’s not like I was checking up on him, not really. I just wanted to see his face and maybe also see if he’d been recently photographed with anyone new. Anyone with, you know, a vagina, my dear friend Dee, the vagina of most concern.
But alas, Reed Devlin had seemingly stayed out of the spotlight the entire time they were away, his face only popping up occasionally at a signing or a red carpet event, and in those photographs, he was always alone.
I tried to distract myself with work and setting up my new website, but my thoughts always ended up drifting back to Reed. Just the thought of him makes my heart flutter.
I hate you, heart.Why don’t you have my back?
Reed Devlin is an enigma. A gorgeous, tattoo-covered paradox that screws with my head on a daily basis. It’s like a knife twisting inside my chest every time I think about what we shared together. So intimate. I miss him kissing me. I miss touching him. I miss his smile. I miss his eyes. I miss the way he’d whisper my name right before he fell apart inside me.
I miss everything about him.
I miss us.
And most of all, I miss what we could have been if only things had been different between us.
My phone ringing startles me, snapping me from my hazy Reed fog, immediately dragging me back to the present and out of my very private pity party.
Setting my laptop down on the coffee table in front of me, I glance at the screen. It’s an unknown number. I normally wouldn’t answer a number I haven’t got saved in my contacts.
But what the hell?
I don’t have much else going on right now. If this is the extent of my Sunday night entertainment, I guess I’ll have to take it.
“Hello?”
“Brinley, sweetheart… it’s Ruth.”
I pause.Ruth?Who?
“Reed’s mom.”
“Oh… uh, hi.” This is a little awkward. How did she get my number?
“Have I caught you at a bad time?”
Panic suddenly works its way through my muddled brain, and I sit up a little straighter. “No. Not at all. Is everything alright? Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”
I sigh with relief.
“I know there’s so much for us to talk about and so much history we could spend endless nights trying to figure out. And I’m really so sorry for what you’ve been through. What you and Maggie both had to go through. But… I need you to turn on the television. Can you do that for me?”
“Sorry?”
“The television, Brinley. Turn it on and put it on channel ten.”
“What, why?”
She huffs with a short laugh. “God, he said you were defiant, and he’s not wrong. Just do as you’re told. Put the television on right now. Enough is enough. It’s time, Brinley. Please, sweetheart, do it for me.”
And then she hangs up.
I stare at my phone for a moment.What the hell was that all about?
Slowly, resigned, I point the remote at the television screen before flicking through the stations until I get to channel ten.
