13. Petra

Chapter thirteen

Petra

By the time we’re finished with dinner, Reed is an entirely different person. He’s surprisingly normal. I tried to reconcile eel-sauce-guy with Daddy Knight, but Reed is both and neither. He’s a doting uncle, steadfast brother, and nature conservation enthusiast. He insists on paying the check, and when we walk to his car, I’m in a great mood.

“Why did you move to LA in the first place?” I ask.

“The Hollywood dream. To write screenplays.”

I’m surprised, though writing was the reason I’d moved, too. “Makes sense. I suppose that’s what you do now.”

“Oh, please, I’m much more. Writer, actor, director, producer, foley artist —you know what that is?” He winks at me. “All those sounds you enjoy?”

My face heats. “Shut up.”

“I do it all. Commercial voice overs, too. I’m popular with insurance companies, pharmaceuticals, and macho cleaning supplies.”

I laugh, because I have no idea what constitutes a macho cleaning supply. “And all that makes you happy?”

We stop next to the passenger door, but Reed doesn’t move to open it. The moonlight siphons all the color from him and his stubble catches the light, turning him into a hero from an old black-and-white film. “It did. I enjoyed DKP. It was creative, freeing, and allowed me to live my ideal lifestyle, with time to pursue side projects.”

“Was? ”

Reed sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex wasn’t who I thought. She was a fan, and everything she did to get close to me was a calculated lie.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” Suddenly, it’s imperative he knows that’s not the case. “I promise, I’m not—”

“I know. Trust me, I know. I can tell you about my sister and not stress out too much because, if anything, I’m stalking you.” He shakes his head, a shadow lurking in his eyes. “Kinley didn’t take the breakup well. The restraining order doesn’t—can’t conceivably—keep Kinley from being a patron. Knowing she’s listening taints the whole thing for me.”

“Restraining order?” Holy shit. “Why do you keep going?”

“The new uploads are all part of past recording batches. I’ve got one more and then I’m shutting DKP down. I’d be flaying myself open with each new scene if I tried to make more. It will become an archive for a while. Passive income. And then I might remove them altogether.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I’m sorry she ruined a passion for you. Maybe closing it will allow you to rediscover one of your other loves.”

“Maybe. I didn’t think I wanted to write again, but…” His mouth tips up to one side. “You’ve been a muse. I wrote this morning. The first time in months.”

A scene for a scene—I wrote about him and he wrote about me. Knowing it’s mutual has my heart pounding fast, and my rapid breaths brush our chests together. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He pushes my hair away from my collar with a smirk that leaves me trembling.

I’m shivering from the cold, and the frogs are an intense chorus all around us, but it doesn’t matter. Standing next to Reed is like curling up in front of a fireplace: welcoming and desperately needed after being caught out in the snow. He tugs me into his chest and I wrap my arms around him. Touching him is natural. Easy.

“You’re an amazing woman, Petra. Tonight was supposed to help you live, but you remind me that I can too. That I have value beyond DKP.”

He’s anything but inconsequential. He woke me up. He brought sunshine back into my life. “Your value has nothing to do with your job, Reed Alexander.”

Reed squeezes and lets go. “Can I repay you?”

“Oh please, I owe you. I didn’t need to see the bill to know how expensive dinner was.”

Reed shakes his head. “For my newfound hope. I have an idea: a limited sexual experience to help you explore that side again. Before you protest, it doesn’t involve sex or seeing you naked.”

A thousand scenarios flit through my head that make me dizzy. “There’s a lot we could do without you seeing me naked.”

Reed smirks at me with that damn dimple. “Is that an offer?”

“No!” I push him away so he can’t notice the way he heats my skin.

“Just consider it. You already listen to my voice, which makes it easy. You get in the bath and relax, the way you always do, but this time it’s me you’re listening to. Real life me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“C’mon, Petronia.” His soft caress of my name throws me. “It’s harmless. Pretend you’re listening to a recording.”

“But you would hear me.”

“I would.” His nod is serious. “You’d be dipping your toe into the water. Literally.”

I clear my throat, searching for logic. “That’s a terrible pun. I—we can’t. I live with my parents—”

“I have a bathtub,” he says, and I freeze. He grows taller, as if my pause boosts his confidence. “I’ll be outside of it. Just talking.”

My breath comes out in clouds, but under my clothes I’m as hot as August in Los Angeles. His hand glides up my neck to my jaw, jostling Natalia’s name as he goes. It cuts through the haze obscuring my reasoning. I remember his rule about pretending. “ No. Goodnight. Not-a-date is over, Reed. Take me back to my car.”

There’s a flash of pain across his face that I don’t understand, but Reed shrugs and opens my door. “Of course. Forget I brought it up.”

Once I settle into my seat, my brain overloads. I’m quiet for a couple blocks as I consider what I want. What if I can move past the awkward? Attraction isn’t a problem, and we’d win awards for chemistry. Reed already knows more about my sexual preferences than Nate did. But Livi messed me up with the kissing questions. I miss being kissed more than anything. More than sex.

I want to be kissed as though I’m the most important person in the world. I’m not that for Reed, but he blurs the world out of focus. He’s white noise, but in a person. Comfort. Safety.

“Okay,” I rasp.

“Okay, what?”

“Take me to your hotel.” If he protests, I’ll overthink this. “Are you taking back your offer?”

Reed grins at me. “No way.”

“Are you going to attempt to convince me to have sex with you?”

“I mean, oral sex. But auditory-oral not oral -oral,” he teases. His dimple is extra deep with joy.

I burst out laughing. “God, tonight would be completely different if I weren’t an audiophile. Alright, let’s test your idea.”

Reed reaches over to lace our hands together. “It’ll work—your fork mishap at dinner has me convinced. And while you might be an audiophile, you definitely have an aural fetish.” I flush, and Reed brings our hands up to kiss my knuckles. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Petra. I do too.”

I fight to keep my nerves at bay as we walk through the lobby to his room, hand in hand.

“I don’t have wine,” he says as he unlocks the door, “but I do have puppy chow.”

He’s not laying it on thick, and it’s a relief. “You know what? That sounds great. ”

He puts the flowers in water and then passes me a bag of puppy chow, grabbing a handful of the sugary cereal snack for himself. “Not the same as home,” he notes. “But close.”

My anxiety turns the treat into ash in my mouth. “Maybe this isn’t—”

“You’re in control here,” he affirms. “But if you want to semi-break your fast, this is the best way. Pretend it’s my voice on a speaker.”

“It is your voice,” I grumble. “And that’s the problem.”

Reed is gentle as he touches my hair. “We can call it a night, Pet. I can take you to your car, or we can go get ice cream—”

I’m not listening. Pet. Not like a dog, or a servant. A version of my name, so imbued with affection that makes my heart flutter. “Just…wait to come in until the curtain’s closed.”

He hesitates, then leads me to the bathroom. “Knock on the wall when you’re settled?”

“Sure.” And before I can change my mind again, Reed turns on the water, steps out, and closes the door behind him. “You’re insane!” I hiss to my reflection, but I pull my top over my head.

I can’t pretend it’s one of his audios. It’s him and it’s me, and my body will be in that bathtub while his will be one swath of fabric away.

I fold my clothes carefully, but it doesn’t calm my nerves. After a moment’s indecision, I unclasp my necklace and secure Natalia’s name snugly into the pocket of my jeans. When I step into the full tub, the heat of it creeps up my leg and burns away some of my embarrassment. With a shaky hand, I pull the white curtain closed.

Reed is going to walk in that door. Not a recording that will get me off and then cease to exist. A man. Am I ready for that?

I touch my lips, desperately missing the human connection that sex is supposed to provide. Though there will be a curtain between us, I won’t be alone. I get to push away the loneliness without actually having sex. It’s the best option Reed could’ve offered, and he doesn’t even know why.

I raise my hand and rap my knuckles twice against the wall.