Page 102 of Audiophile

“Want to see my new house?” Reed smiles, and it brightens his whole, worried face. “I’m renting it until we close. They dropped my pod off the other day and moved in the big furniture. Told you I was serious when it comes to you.”

He kisses my knuckles, and my little mushroom of a dream springs up from its place in the dirt.

I follow his directions until we park on a quiet, residential street that’s mostly older homes. Some are renovated and others havewear and tear, but Reed points out one that’s a sweet shade of creamy yellow, with a porch across the entire front and a storage pod in the driveway. The yard is overgrown, and the trees and bushes are bare and leggy. Once they are pruned and bud out, they’ll be beautiful.

“Do you like it?” Reed asks, but I can’t read him.

“It’s charming. But what doyouthink? Worth the buy?”

“Pet.” He brushes our lips together and leaves me aching for more. “It was worth the buy just to be near you.”

We walk up the path, hand in hand. Reed leads me to the side door, where he enters a code on a lockbox. It opens, revealing a set of brass keys. Reed shoots me a grin that sends tingling warmth down my arms, and unlocks the door.

A mud room/laundry room combo opens into a large kitchen and dining space. There is a small formal room in the front half, but the back half is made up of a bathroom and living room with huge windows that overlook the backyard and the river beyond. The whole place has a light, airy feeling, with wood floors and high ceilings. The movers placed furniture haphazardly in some of the rooms—a dining table, sofa, loveseat, and desk.

“So?” I prompt.

“I love it.” He grins at me, happier each passing minute. “Could you see yourself spending time here? Date nights? Dinners?”

“Breakfasts?” I joke.

His eyes crinkle as he pulls me in close. “So many breakfasts.”

He lifts my chin, kissing me as if we’ve got all the time in the world. Everything fades except for the tingle against his lips, the taste of him, the smell of soap that clings to him. His teeth slowly, confidently, press into my lip before his tongue swipes over the indentation, and I’m lost. His hand is hot as he slides it under my blouse and across my back, pressing us tightly together.

I haven’t been kissed like this in years.

Millenia.

Eons.

Ever.

It’s a kiss that starts wars. Ends wars. A kiss Shakespeare wrote about before it happened. Reed kisses me until my heart stops and is replaced with his own, because obviously I’m his.

I’ve always been his, since the moment the suns collided and scattered stardust across the universe.

I love you, Reed.It comes out as a sigh, thank God, because I’m not foolish enough to tell someone I love them after seven weeks of knowing them. But when Reed pulls back, his eyes dark and insatiable, it has to be written all over my face. He groans, and we meld together once again.

What feels like hours later, his phone vibrates in the pocket that’s pressed against my hip, and we break apart. “Do you need to get that?”

“No. Ignore it.”

“Kinley?” I ask. He nods and hands me his phone. The entire screen is filled with missed calls. “Ninety-two?”

He swipes to another screen. “Nearly two hundred texts.”

I wince. “Time for a new number?”

“Yes. I was waiting until we could do it together. I didn’t want to lose my bridge to you. I’ve changed it twice, since the whole…” Reed gestures at his tattoo, and I smooth my hand over it, marking my territory, erasing her from his skin. “It helped, but then she got my new number from someone and the cycle started all over again.”

“That’s awful. And the restraining order doesn’t stop her from contacting you?”

Reed grimaces. “She doesn’t care. I can only send so many cease and desist letters, or call the police. They’re not exactly sympathetic. If our genders were reversed, it would be a different story.”

I don’t know how to comfort him, because he’s not wrong. I watch as he screenshots the missed call log, visual voicemails, and the text messages, and sends them all to his attorney. “What do they do when she violates the order?”

“She’s fined. She pays it and keeps going. She’ll probably have to hurt me for anyone to take her seriously.”

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