27. Reed

Chapter twenty-seven

Reed

As the sun dips below the horizon, the wind picks up, clear and cold. Petra shivers beneath her heavy jacket. “I don’t want you to freeze,” I say. I lace our fingers together, keeping her hand warm as we walk to the car.

It’s a long trek to Portland, so I offer to drive. I crank up the heat until she strips off her coat and blouse, revealing a thin camisole that clings to her and is both distracting and delectable. She takes over the radio, and her taste is all over the place. Eighties music, nineties, rock, pop, metal, folk, hip-hop. There’s no rhyme or reason to why she loves the songs she does.

We drive through the city, her unblinking eyes soaking it all in, and park on a side street. “What are we doing now?”

“Bringing LA to you. C’mon.” I wait until she’s bundled up again and lead her from the car, tucking her tight to my side to ward off the cold until we get to a group of food carts.

“Street food? I love street food!” Her eyes are big, beautiful, and happy. We try everything, sharing basket after basket of cuisine from different parts of the world. She doesn’t seem to notice the cold, and she does a happy wiggle after each bite. “This is the best date I’ve ever been on. Not that, I didn’t mean it was a date .”

“Darling Petra, it’s a date. Does it beat The Riverfront?”

Petra shrugs. “That was beautiful, Reed, but I don’t need fancy very often. This kind of experience, though? It’s my favorite.”

I steal the bite out of her hand to keep irrational words from jumping out of my mouth. She laughs and pushes me away, but then offers me the next bite as well. Once we’ve tasted everything, we drive across town and park in the garage of a tall building. Petra shoots me a look as I gather our bags and walk through an opulent lobby filled with glass doors and glittering chandeliers.

“This is one of those really fancy things,” Petra mutters as we step into the elevator. I laugh, and she smacks my shoulder. When we step out into the hallway, I locate our door and punch the code into the keypad.

“I’ll note the frequency, then. Welcome to our home for the night.”

Petra steps through the door as if there’s a monster lurking inside. The whole apartment is white and wood—modern and sleek, but warm. She carefully winds around the furniture in the living room, headed straight for the floor to ceiling windows.

“Wow.” The view is stunning, with two bridges crossing the water and the lights of the city spread out below us. She tears her gaze away from the view. “You did this for me?”

I shrug. “It’s not where you want to be, but it’s still a taste of big city life.”

“I was in a rundown one bedroom apartment in a not-great complex. This is amazing, tesoro , but I would be happy with you anywhere. Is it a full apartment?”

“Two-bedroom. Want to go pick out your favorite?”

“Whichever has this view,” she admits. She heads for the bedrooms while I hang up her jacket. I find her in one of them, sitting on a chaise in front of the window. I sink down beside her and she leans into me with a happy sigh. “I don’t want to know how much this cost for the night.”

“Does it matter? It’s research for me, too. I might want to live in a place like this in the future.” I’m free here, not only with Petra, but away from the hustle of LA. The green, the rivers, the clouds. All of it breathes new life into me, the way she does.

“You’d want to live in an apartment in Portland?” she asks.

I avoid her gaze, trying not to consider her as part of the deal. “I love the community here. This view is spectacular, but I’d prefer a house. ”

Petra nods her agreement. “Especially if you want kids in the future. Not that you do—I meant—whatever you want from your life is what you should go with. You know what I mean.”

I watch her silhouette as her hand comes up to fiddle with her necklace. It’s important to be honest but careful with her here. “I love kids. I love my nieces. But…”

“But what?” she asks. “You’re the best parts of your dad, Reed. All the joy of hot cross buns without the addiction. You won’t repeat history.”

I’m not as confident as she is. She didn’t watch my family fall apart under the weight of Dad’s decisions. I still her restless hand and weave our fingers together. “I won’t do it on my own. If my partner wants them, I’m on board. If she isn’t into it, then I don’t need kids to have a complete, happy life.”

“I’m terrified of trying again,” she admits quietly. “Genetic testing will make it less risky, but I desperately want kids and I’m terrified of being pregnant.”

I bite back promises I’m not ready to keep. “When you’re with the right person, or you feel safe again, it’ll happen for you. You don’t have to get pregnant to have kids, Petra.”

She nods and lets go to smooth her necklace down. “I should hop in the shower. I’ve got sand in too many places.” My rubber-girl, always deflecting her feelings. But she hasn’t shut down or withdrawn, and I’m proud of her.

“Oh? Am I not invited?” I ask. She grins. Mission accomplished.

“I should’ve made my invitation clearer.” Our shower takes a while, because I can’t stop kissing her long enough for her to wash her hair or anything else.

When we get out, I’m determined to make the most of the time we have left. “The night is young. Where do you want to go?” I ask as I tug on clean clothes. “Dancing, movies, escape room, roller derby, arcade?”

Petra scrunches the water from her wet hair. She’s in trousers and a blouse that shows off the swell of her hip. Her thighs are invitingly soft and sweet. “What do you want? ”

“I asked you, Pet. Dream big. What did you enjoy doing in LA?”

“Eating, mostly,” she says, laughing. “And quirky little places. Innocuous strip mall restaurants that are worth twelve Michelin Stars, hidden bars, magic themed coffee shops, storybook cat cafés. There was always something weird going on, and I loved that.”

“According to my research, there is a Wonderland Speakeasy nearby. There’s a mermaid themed café, too, but I think they’re closed already. There’s also a three story brewery and arcade, a wishing tree, a vegan strip club—”

“For lesbians?” she asks, eyes creased in delight. “Because there’s no meat allowed! Oh, I wish Silla was here for that one! I’ll have to text it to her.”

The joy written all over her face is magnetic, and when I kiss her, we’re both smiling. I brush her hair back to kiss below her ear and down her neck. “I wish I could record every moment with you.” I didn’t mean for her to hear it, but she does.

“I don’t mind if you want to set the mic out for a minute.”

I shrug, but my chest throbs with the unfairness of it all. Kinley robbed me of a lot of things, but my distance from DKP is a continuous theft. “I haven’t been able to do any audio of myself. Hence the nature recordings.”

“I’m sorry. I hate that she took away your joy.” Her fingers stroke the back of my neck in a soothing rhythm that makes my eyes fall shut. I’m safe, so safe with her.

“Would you try it with me? Some simple noises, kisses down your neck?”

She tenses in my arms. My skittish deer. I’m going to frighten her away. “Would you publish it?”

“No. Only for me, Pet.”

She takes a deep breath, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “Okay.”