25. Reed

Chapter twenty-five

Reed

Petra’s heaving sobs subside into shuddering gasps, and then into quiet tears. She looks up at me with red eyes, but the second she opens her mouth, I cut her off. “Don’t apologize. Please. I know you, Petra. This was hard for you, and I’m grateful you let me in.”

Her voice is raspy from crying. “You’ve known me for a week, Reed. You don’t know me.”

I can’t take it personally. She’s pushing me away, trying to get mental space since I won’t give her physical. If I let her pull back too far, she’ll put up more walls to keep me out.

A secret for a secret. She was vulnerable with me, she deserves that much in return. “My tattoo is a coverup. It used to be an interlocking KH. Kinley’s initials,” I confess. Petra grimaces, as if that was the bad part. “She spiked my drink one night and found an unethical tattoo artist to do it. She never wanted me to forget who I belonged to.”

“She what?” Petra gasps, horror written all over her face.

Oh, no. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel worse . “No, never mind, forget I—”

“You’re not hers.” She reaches for my black-inked forearm to hold it to her cheek, a fierce fire building in her eyes. “You don’t belong to anyone, Reed. She—I don’t have any words for how awful she is.”

She has no idea. Waking up to it, among other things, scarred me for life. When I let Petra sleep in my bed the first time, it was a leap of faith she had no idea I took. I’ve broken all my rules for her .

“I’m serious, Reed. If she gets within the same city limits as you, I will end her.”

Funny, that’s exactly how I feel about Nate Fitz.

“You turned your tattoo into something beautiful,” she says, her tear dripping onto my arm. “You will be seen, loved, and embraced for all you are. You’re shaking off the darkness, Reed. You don’t want me to shut down? I’ve seen you do it, too. But your light is powerful. Its radiance shines on the lackluster world around us and sets it ablaze. I’ve seen it in action. Your dawn will burn the shadows away. I believe it with all my heart.”

I’m going to fall apart if she keeps looking at me like that. “You’re a more poetic writer than I am. I’m jealous.”

“I can’t imagine there’s much to wax poetic about when you’re writing from the point of view of a naughty stepbrother,” she jokes. Her fingers are gentle as they smooth over my skin, transferring heat to the tattoo that leaves me cold with every glance. “Don’t change the subject, tesoro mio . It’s okay to show your scars. I know how much they can hurt.”

I don’t know what that means, but the tender way she says it soothes me. “I know you do. That’s why I told you. Come on, let’s get waffles.”

“Who’s prickly now?” Petra mumbles, but presses her lips to the ink. Her kiss sinks beneath the scratchy surface and spreads, like a balm, across my arm. Her eyes are so open, so kind, as she kisses me tenderly. “Someday, when you might want to share the whole story, I’ll be here to listen.”

We’re both raw as we dress in relative quiet, but I don’t let her get too far away. I graze her arm, her back, nudging her shoulder with mine as we brush our teeth and she wrangles her hair into a bun. When she’s ready to go, I give her a quiet, lingering kiss. “Petra? Tell me you’ll come back tonight. I want you here. No strings attached, no expectations.”

She hesitates, biting her lip. “I’m going to hold you to that ‘no expectations’ thing. ”

It stings that she doesn’t trust me. “I wouldn’t pressure you, especially now. I won’t cross your boundary, no matter how good we’d be together—and we would be phenomenal.” I tuck away a stray bit of curl that has already slipped loose over her ear. She’s still gorgeous this way, quiet and reserved. “I want to kiss you and laugh with you. I like who I am with you.”

“Me too,” she admits. When I reach out my hand, she takes it, and we head out to the car still linked together. It takes coaxing and a stack of waffles, but eventually we shake off the gloom and get back to a steady place. “You know, you could narrate books. If you’re keeping a running list of new career paths.”

“I’d narrate yours,” I offer. She looks up, and her eyes mist again when she understands I’m serious. “When you’re ready to share, I’d love to read it.”

When I drop her off in front of the grocery store, I’m not ready to let her go. “I’ll pick you up at six, and I’ll take you out unless you’d rather eat in. I can cook anything in the frozen section that requires being heated up in a pan.”

She laughs, and it’s beautiful to see some of her radiance come back. “Let’s go out, my treat,” she says. “You’ve already extended your stay by a week. I don’t know where all your hotel money comes from, but apparently my twelve dollars a month does a lot for you.”

“Some people patronize my higher tiers, you’re just cheap,” I tease with a wink.

“Reed!” she scolds, but she’s laughing again, and it’s worth it. “For that, dinner is on you.”

“I don’t mind that at all.” Our lips meet in a final kiss that I wish could last for hours. “See you soon, Pet.”

“Can’t wait.”

It’s hard to drive away without knowing I’ve fixed it. Not that there’s anything to fix. What happened was a long time ago, though her grief is still palpable. I’m reeling over her past, and I don’t even understand it. The closest I’ve gotten to a pregnant woman is Amanda .

I turned my phone off so it wouldn’t be a nuisance during dinner with Petra’s family, so the barrage of notifications as it boots up is overwhelming. There are hundreds of social media comments and messages, emails, and dozens of voicemails from my least favorite person. I can’t deal with the enormity of it right now, and I don’t try to. I clear them all and tap Amanda’s name.

“Ree-ree,” she answers. “How did meeting the mystery girl’s mom go? You never told me her name. She’s the girl from your story yesterday, right? She’s pretty. Not exactly who I was expecting you to go for, but—”

I’m going to get the full sister treatment if I let her gain momentum, and I head her off with the question that’s really bothering me. “How far along is twenty-five weeks? I mean, mathematically it’s more than half, but you used to do all those fruit pictures. What fruit is that?”

“Reed. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Kinley’s not preg—”

“ No! God, no. It’s Petra. The woman I met here in Swift River. She had a miscarriage. I can’t—I just need to know what that means.”

“No,” Amanda gasps. “Oh. Reed.”

My heart plummets to my feet. “How far is it?”

“It’s unfathomable.” I can tell Amanda is holding back tears. “Nearly her third trimester. It destroyed me when I had one at eight weeks, between the girls. This is…Reed, half of the babies born at twenty-five weeks grow up to be healthy adults.”

All the words stick in my throat. I hate that Petra—beautiful, tenacious, giggling Petra—was shattered by this. All those times I watched her sink into herself.

“You better not be playing with this girl,” Amanda threatens, “or I’ll disown you.”

Petra was a shy, bold, hysterical girl at our first meeting, but she’s a woman with a past and wounds that run deep. Scars that I might be tearing open simply by being here .

“I can’t stay away from her. I can’t stop thinking about her. And you, only hearing that one thing about her, knowing what she endured but is still kind and wonderful, should know why I can’t.”

Amanda has her mom-tone front and center. “Reed, she’s not a puppy you found and need to take care of. You’re not being rational. How long have you known this woman?”

“Five days.”

“That’s not the foundation of a relationship.”

“Isn’t it?” I ask, defensive. “I’m not saying I’m in love with her. I barely know her.” That’s a lie. After hours of conversation, I know her better than anyone. But that also sounds insane. “Just wanting to spend more time with her? That’s not crazy at all.”

I don’t confess the rest of it. That I love having Petra in my arms. I love how her eyes blink shut as she gets tired, and her first smile of the morning. I love the way she blushes or laughs when she’s uncomfortable. The way she puts up with my shit with a good sense of humor instead of knocking me on my ass, as she should. Her insatiable hunger, even with her scars, to learn and experience everything she’s missed.

“It’s idiotic as hell,” Amanda retorts.

“How long before you knew you wanted to be with Ethan?”

There’s a long pause, after which Amanda sounds resigned. “From our first date. Does she know about what you do?”

I wince. This is going to be a hard sell to the family. “She’s a subscriber.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“She’s not Kinley.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “I’ve pursued her every step of the way. I stole her diary the day we met! All those red flags I should’ve recognized with Kinley? They’re me this time.”

“You what? ” Amanda yells. It’s the reaction I should’ve gotten from Petra. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I know, okay? I’m not good enough for her, but I’m trying to be. Doesn’t that count for anything? That I want to be a better person for her? ”

“Reed.” Amanda sighs. “You are a good person.”

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t making my own decisions. I was running and reacting. But Petra? I’m choosing her.” The words aren’t enough. I want Amanda to know her the way I know her. “Petra laughs when she’s nervous, but tells me when I overstep. She’s a horrible liar. She loves reading fantasy and writes it, too. Her head’s too full, all the time, and she tries to drown out the noise because she hasn’t learned how to listen to herself. Trust herself. She needs me in her corner, and she’s always in mine.”

“It’s been less than a week!”

I bulldoze over her. “She loves to argue with her sister, has a deep relationship with her dad, and has a brother who cuts through the crap. And honestly, her mom scares the hell out of me. But they welcomed me in . I never met any of Kinley’s family, probably because they know she’s insane. But Petra…she has a messed up ex and a miscarriage that haunts her to this day. She’s not perfect, and her life hasn’t been either. She’s handled all of that and is still kind—to a fault. Petra is headstrong and beautiful, and knowing how much pain she hides below the surface only amplifies those traits.”

Amanda is quiet.

“You told me, that day in LA, that my life wasn’t going to end there. And it didn’t. But choosing Petra is me finally living again.”

“You’re not allowed to use my words against me like that,” Amanda grumbles. “Alright. So you might be falling in love with this woman. Petra. What are you going to do about it?”

The burden of my feelings lessens. I might be crazy, but at least Amanda understands. “Isn’t that the fucking question? I mean, I’m selling the house in LA, but she loves it there.”

Amanda chokes. “You’re not planning to move there together? You wanted out. Reed, it’s only been days!”

“Of course not,” I lie. I hadn’t planned on it. But now that she’s put the idea in my head…maybe there’s somewhere Petra and I could both be happy in the future. “I don’t want to live there, and she wouldn’t want to live here if I stayed. ”

“You’re already contemplating the long term. Can’t you just date her and worry about the rest later? What if you get bored in a couple months?”

I laugh before I can hold it in. It’s not a question for me. I’ve never been surer about connecting with someone.

“Be reasonable,” Amanda scolds. “You’re jumping into the deep end right after you drowned! You need to learn and not repeat the past.”

My hackles rise, unreasonably defensive. I don’t care if she’s right; I want her on my side. “Sure. Pretend you weren’t planning your wedding after your second date.”

“I was nineteen and in nowhere , Iowa!” she yells. “Of course I was! You’re a grown-ass man with your own thriving business.”

“I’m closing DKP.”

“Jesus Christ!” she yells. “Because of a girl you’ve known for a week? Sorry, honey, Mommy’s okay. ”

“No. It’s nothing to do with Petra. She wants me to love whatever I do.” The rest of my words gouge like broken glass in my throat. “But I know Kinley takes whatever new audio there is and makes it about her. She’s warped enough to let it feed her fantasy. Do you know what that’s like? To have someone stalk you and assault you, and then be able to fantasize and fetishize you because of your work?”

There’s a long pause. Amanda hiccups, a sign she’s holding back tears, and guilt sears through my chest. “You’re right. You have so many incredible talents, and you built DKP from the ground up. You know how to do it again. I know you can.”

“I’ve got options, but I have decisions to make.” And Petra’s a big one. “I know I’m crazy, Manda.”

“Love is crazy,” Amanda grudgingly admits. “And makes us do crazy things. But I want to meet her before you do anything too stupid.”

“Too late for that,” I joke, hoping it lightens her mood. It doesn’t work .

“Come home. Just for a little while. To remember that you have a whole bunch of people here who love you. You don’t need a woman to be complete. Okay?”

It’s not a terrible idea. I miss Amanda, the kids, and Mom. It would be healthier for Petra and I than just diving in headfirst. If nothing else, we’d see how our instant chemistry adjusts to change and distance. “I can do that. Will you pick me up from the airport? I’ll leave my car here.”

“Sure you’ll go back?”

I’m glad Amanda can’t see my smirk. Just because I’m giving Petra and I space to grow doesn’t mean I’m reconsidering. “I might want to live out here. Portland is a hell of a lot cheaper than Los Angeles. I’ll book a flight and text you the info. Love you, Amanda.”

“Love you too.”

I hang up, and when I check my email, there are several from Isaac. There are multiple offers waiting for me, including a cash offer that makes my eyebrows climb up my forehead. He’s either a beyond-fantastic realtor, or it’s truly a seller’s market. There’s a clock ticking down to a decision, and I hope I’m making the right one.

“Hey, Isaac,” I say once he answers his phone. “Is that number for real?”

“Reed! Yep. It’s a couple with new money. The wife invented some software a few years ago, and now they’re ready for the next step. House, kids, the works.”

I blow out a harsh breath. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Should we accept it?” he asks.

“Yes.” The word comes barreling out. I’ve wanted to say it for months. I won’t have to step foot there again, and Kinley won’t know where to find me. I roll my shoulders back, lighter than before.

“Done!” Isaac says, enthusiastic. His commission is going to be a hefty chunk of change. “Now, let’s talk about buying. I sent some listings for San Diego, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Chicago. How’re those going? Finding anything? ”

I sigh. “They’re all fine, but I don’t know what I want anymore. I need a bedroom and an office for recording, but do I want guestrooms? Do I want Portland or San Diego? Do I want to live there for a year, or five, or ten?”

Do I want a beautiful kitchen in which Petra and I fumble our way through dinner together? A shower that’s perfect for pinning her to the wall under the spray? It’s too early to factor Petra in, but how could I not?

“Does it have to be either/or?” Isaac asks. “This offer is twice as much as a bigger house in the suburbs of Portland. You could easily buy a place there, and that house I know you love on Citrus. Whichever way life goes, you’ll have a place to stay while renting the other to pay the mortgage.”

He’s right. I love the house in San Diego County. I love its bright, hacienda style, with high ceilings and extra rooms for a studio, guests, or kids. The huge outdoor area surrounds a pool with crystal blue water where we could have family barbecues. I could have both, a back-up plan, and a passive income. “That’s genius.”

“That’s why you have me,” Isaac jokes. “That house on Citrus is going to go fast. If I were you I’d put an offer in ASAP. I’ll send you all the paperwork for the sale. Congratulations, Reed. You’re starting a new chapter. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Isaac.”

I hang up, send off a quick email, and make plans for dinner. Now it’s about more than just showing Petra possibilities. I want her to want to be with me.