“I did spoon you. You hated that.”
“I did not. I liked it.”
She shrugged her shoulder as though she knew full well that I’d liked it and had just wanted to hear me say it. “You liked it until I’d throw my leg over you, and then you’d bitch about feeling crowded, and somehow you’d always end up on the floor.”
Actually, I’d liked it when she’d done that too. Liked how it had made me feel owned. I’d only ever moved out of the bed for her – because she was a restless sleeper, and I’d always ended up feeling like I was in her way.
Those weren’t things I needed to admit though. Not now. “So, I’ll take the couch.”
She laughed. “When I’m better though,” she said, her expression suddenly serious, “I’d really like to talk to you. When I’m sure I won’t fall asleep halfway through the conversation.”
“I’d really like that too.”
I slept fitfully on the love seat, and when Brent came to relieve me at a quarter to four, I didn’t feel the least bit ready for bed. My head was too buzzed and my emotions too tangled. For several minutes, I stood outside of Reeve’s closed door, wishing I had the courage to knock or just go in.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I grabbed slippers and a blanket from my room, then tiptoed downstairs and out to the front porch.
It was warm for Wyoming in April, or so I’d been told, meaning that the crisp early morning temperature hovered around forty. Wrapping the blanket around me, I took in a deep breath of air and let it out with a sigh. Why did I feel so miserable? Amber was alive. And I was with her again. It was what I wanted, why I’d started down this whole path.
I leaned against the railing and stared up at the stars. If only my head could be as clear as that night sky.
“She used to talk about you.”
I straightened at the sound of Reeve’s voice behind me, knowing immediately the “she” he referred to. I didn’t turn around, too scared that he’d stop talking when I so badly wanted him to say more.
He went on. “Bragged about you, actually. When she saw your picture in the magazines she’d beam with pride. ‘That’s my friend, Emily,’ she’d say. ‘I always knew she’d be a star.’”
She’d talked about me.
All the time I’d assumed she’d moved on with her life, never thinking about me at all.
I pivoted slowly toward his voice and found him sitting in the shadows on the porch swing. He brought a beer bottle to his mouth and took a swallow.
My cheeks warmed as I realized what else he was telling me. “Then you always knew who I was. From the very beginning.” God, what a fool I’d been, thinking I’d pulled anything over on Reeve Sallis. He could have silenced me real quick if he’d wanted to. “Why did you even get mixed up with me?”
Though I couldn’t make out his face, I saw his head tilt, felt his eyes piercing through me. “I knew who you were. I didn’t know what your game was.”
I was silent as I tried to put myself in his position. He’d had a bad breakup with Amber, and she’d left him to be with his enemy for no reason but to piss him off. Then, I’d shown up and flirted my way into his company. What the hell must he have thought I was after?
“At first I thought she’d sent you,” he said, as if reading my mind. “To test me or to mock me in some way. When you started asking questions about her around the resort, I decided you were trying to pin something on me. Either on your own or with her, I wasn’t sure.”
“No.”
“I figured that out soon enough. You were gone by then.”
I’d left because he’d scared me off. No wonder he’d been such an asshole to me at his resort – he’d thought I was the one who’d been cruel.
I leaned back against the railing. “Then you bumped into me at the award show.”
“I came looking for you at the award show. I did some investigating and tied your questions to the ones that a certain private investigator was asking and realized that you’d been looking for Amber. Which meant you didn’t know where she was. I helped you out by sending the picture of her with Michelis to Joe. Do you know which one?”
The anonymous picture that Joe had received of Amber with another man. It had proved that she’d been alive after she’d left Reeve. “Yes. I know which one.”
“I thought that would lead you in another direction. Get me off the hook, so to say.”
“Why did you even care?”
“Because I wanted you. And I didn’t want her to be the reason you wanted me.”
Goose bumps skated down my skin that had nothing to do with the cold. I pulled the blanket tighter around me anyway.
I liked this, though – this talking. Sharing. Trying to understand each other. It was worth exposing myself when he was doing the same. Somehow it felt even more intimate than anything we’d done with our bodies. It made me hopeful. He was trying and that meant… well, it meant something.
“I’m guessing the photo didn’t work.” He ran his palm up and down on his thigh.
Was he warming his hand up? Or was he nervous? “It almost did. Except I recognized the ring on his finger, and I’d seen pictures of you and him together.”
“Clever.” He sounded impressed. But then a beat passed, and when he spoke again, his voice was low and raw. “I didn’t know. I thought you’d let your search go.”
He’d thought I’d been with him honestly. I was surprised how much it stung to watch him realize I hadn’t been. “I’m sorry.”