Page 30 of Audiophile

Reed isn’t easy to be around. His salacious attitude flusters me with zero effort, and he delights in my discomfort. But he’s also theeasiestperson to be around. He doesn’t pity me or consider me fragile, doesn’t judge me for my…recreational habits. He leaves me embarrassed, happy, tense, relaxed, and enthralled, all at the same time.

“You pick the wine,” Reed suggests once we’re seated. “You know your way around them better than I do.”

In my family, wine says a lot about a person. “What do you normally prefer?”

“Water, sometimes coffee, or hot tea for my voice.”

Shocked is an understatement. “You don’t drink?”

Reed shrugs, his face earnest in the soft light. “My dad is an alcoholic, and I was scared I would be, too. I’m not.” His smirk sends butterflies careening through my belly. “You drank me under the table last night. But it put me off habitual drinking. I’ve found being sober is a thousand times better than being drunk.”

Yet another way Nate and Reed differ. I’m horrified that Reed drank with me last night when he usually avoids it. “I’m not analcoholic, and dinner without wine isn’t going to kill me. Though, red wine is a family secret for eternal youth so I’m not swearing it off altogether.”

Reed’s dimple winks as he laughs and lifts my hand to brush his mouth over my knuckles. I try not to sway, dizzied by his intensity. “Noted. Thank you for your consideration.”

I tug my hand back to clear my brain. “Was it hard with your dad? Or is that too intrusive a question?”

“I ask plenty of intrusive questions,” Reed says with a Cheshire cat smile, as if he’s remembering all my answers. “It was rough. But my dad is seven years sober and happily remarried, which is better for the whole family. He’s still distant, but it’s better than it was.”

I can’t imagine. Church, Sunday dinners, holidays, they’re all a huge part of how the Diamantes come together. Divorcing and adding more spouses into the family would breed more chaos and tear us apart. Maybe Nate and I never married because I knew it might invite that exact brand of pandemonium. “I’m sure that was hard on you.”

Reed nods. “It took a long time to understand. Longer to accept it. I worry that I’m too much like him.”

“If you are, then you have his best traits, not his worst.” We order water and dinner, making idle chit chat as we go. I’m enjoying it, but it’s almost too comfortable. He hasn’t prodded me at all. “No sex questions tonight?”

His grin is full of trouble. “I was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. I heard you lived in LA? I was over in North Hollywood.”

“I was in Studio City. Nate—” I stop and swallow my words with a grimace. “Sorry. Not supposed to talk about my ex on a date.”

Reed frowns. “He’s the story ready to burst out of you. You’ve stuffed it down so far that you might explode with it.”

It’s a close guess, except the real story buried deep is Natalia. Heart aching, I touch her name against my collar. “Your growing list of talents should also include psychic.”

Reed snorts. “You could go into rubber manufacturing with all the deflection you’ve got going on.”

He always knows how to lighten the mood. “Did you make aphysicsjoke? Reed, are you secretly brilliant?”

“No secret about it. So, Nate?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“A relationship I clung to long after its expiration date.”

His eyebrows climb higher. “You don’t enjoy opening up.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Me either…But I do with you,” he notes, a soft frown pulling at his features. “Alright, I’ll come back to the ex situation later. Tell me something else. Are your names Italian? Petra and Livi?”

“Not exactly,” I hedge. “My mom is American born Italian, but she was into ancient Roman names. Livi, Silla, and I all got them, but my brother inherited my dad’s name. He gets to go by Tommy, like a normal person.”

“And you’re not normal?”

I roll my eyes. “How many Petras do you know?”

His answering chuckle infuses my veins with lava and leaves me lightheaded. “Fair point. I didn’t know Petra was a Roman name.”

I’m distracted by the way his hands catch the light. How can anyone have such attractive hands? “We don’t go by our full names. I mean, Tommaso is par for the course, Livia’s is passable, but Petronia andDrusilla? Ma could’ve used a second opinion on those.”

“Petronia?”

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