Page 211 of Tell Me Something True

Reed was in her yard, in the dark, at midnight, tossing pebbles at her window.

And he’d brought his dog.

The light went off, but she knew he was still there. Waiting for her to make a choice.

Be smart, ignore him, and stay in her room.

Or be an idiot, give into her curiosity, and go see what he wanted.

She sighed. Rapped her forehead a few times against the glass, not caring that he could obviously see her. Then, she straightened and crossed her room.

Idiot it was.

She opened her door a crack, looked left, then right before stepping into the hallway. Tiptoed to the stairs then hurried down them, footsteps light, Bella racing past her, tail wagging at this new, fun, nighttime adventure.

She walked through the house to the living room. Held her breath as she unlocked the French door, then opened it and stepped out onto the patio, the concrete cold under her bare feet.

Bella took off like a shot, disappearing around the side of the house.

Triggering the motion sensing light at the corner of the patio.

Crap.

Verity picked up her pace, jogging across the damp grass, only to skid to a stop when she rounded the back corner and saw a shadowy Reed in a crouch, one arm around his dog’s back, his other hand petting Bella’s head. Verity could hear the quiet murmur of his deep voice as he called Bella a good girl. A pretty girl.

Bella vibrated with excitement, pressing against his side as if she couldn’t get close enough, her feet dancing in place.

As if sensing her watching him, Reed lifted his head. He was far enough away from the house that the light didn’t quite reach him, keeping his features hidden.

Knowing him, he was smirking at her.

Couldn’t say she was sorry to miss seeing that.

“For someone who wants nothing to do with me,” she said, infusing her low tone with a hefty dose of prissiness, “you seek me out quite often.”

Titus ran over to her while Reed stood, his movements slow. Jerky.

She narrowed his eyes. Was he drunk?

“I need a place to crash.”

Okay. Definitely possibly drunk if his mumbled, slightly slurred words were anything to go by.

“And this concerns me, why?” she asked, patting Titus’s head, hating that she was in the light. That Reed could easily see her ratty hair tied up in a bun, her snug sleep shorts and baggy Penn State sweatshirt.

Hating how he could study her to his heart’s content, while he stayed in the shadows. Hidden.

Just out of reach.

Story of their whole relationship, right there.

Such as it was.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Well, walked might not be the best word. More like he lurched, his steps unsteady, his gait listing to the left. Titus whined and, after looking up at Verity as if for permission—or maybe in reprimand, dogs were judgy that way—he trotted after his human.

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