Page 31 of Audiophile

It shocks me back into the present. I don’t tell people my full name. “How do you keep getting me todothat?”

“It’s another talent. Fun name, Petronia.” He rolls the word around in his mouth, murmuring and whispering as if he’s tasting it. My name is brand new. Reborn. No one has said it the way he does. “Good plosives.Petronia.Perfect. As unique as you, Petronia.”

Jesus Christ. How does he make my name sound sensuous? It slips over my shoulder and slides down my spine like silk. I must have swallowed a bag of jalapeños by accident, becauseI need someone to pour a glass of water on me. I need Reed to stop saying my name before I leap across the table and down his throat.

“Petra is fine,” I croak.

“Petra, then.” His mouth quirks up at the corner, like he knows that his voice is stretching out across the table to stroke the length of my neck. The power he wields has me at a huge disadvantage. “So whydon’tyou want to sleep with me, if you’re not hung up on Nate?”

I bite my cheek, and the pain brings some clarity. “I don’t even know your last name.”

Reed leans forward with a smile that brings out his dimple. “Reed Alexander. Not as cool as Petronia Diamante. That’s a hell of a name. A world-changing name. Tell me you didn’t consider giving that up for Nate. What’s his?”

“Fitz.” I squint at him. “Is this where you say Petra Alexander sounds better?”

“Of course it does.” Reed smirks at me. “But let’s be honest, Reed Diamante is the clear winner here. Full of flair. I wouldn’t need a stage name. Tell me, Petronia, what’s your real issue with us sleeping together?”

My toes curl at the use of my full name. I try my best to ignore it and search for a reason he’d accept. “I can’t imagine a scenario where I’ll be comfortable getting back into it after this long.”

He smiles like he’s chewing on a secret. “I can. Speaking of imagining—you said you can’t touch yourself in bed. Where do you go?”

I wince, but there are hardly any layers between us anymore. Reed is determined to know all my secrets, but Natalia isn’t one I’m willing to divulge. Distracting him with shallow answers like these is worth the awkwardness. “The bath.”

“Oh?” This is how Reed must feel in my transparent moments, because his eyes flicker down my body and he swallows hard. When his eyes lock with mine, they’re not simply honey; they’re a mix of gold and brown, ethereal in their intensity. My blush comes on in full force.

“The water helps cut the rest of the world out so I don’t have to think about it,” I explain, trying to distract from the stifling air between us. “ASMR, but for my skin.”

“You mentioned that before, ASMR.”

At least the technical side is less embarrassing. “It’s one of the things that sets your work apart. I can find a thousand audios that call me a good girl or whisper goodnight, but you’re sodetailed.Is that the wrong word? The brush of fingers on skin or running through hair? The rustle of fabric, the—” I slam my mouth shut, flushing red all over.

“Yes?” Reed encourages with a smirk. His voice is soft and deep, keeping the topic for our ears only. “All the other noises? Kissing? Heavy breaths? The glide of slick skin?”

My name on his lips is better than kisses down my neck. I can’t breathe. I wish I was back in my bath to cool the fire within me. “You’re not allowed to use my weaknesses against me.”

“I want to use all your weaknessesforyou,” he murmurs, voice husky. “Not pushing, though.”

“Oh yeah, definitely not.” My sarcasm is thick. “Drop Knight’s act. Tell me about Reed,realReed, who’s happy for his divorced parents.”

His surprise flits across his face before he hides it away. “I’m originally from Iowa—my family still lives there.” He laughs at my shock. “I know, sometimes a ‘warsh’ comes out instead of ‘wash,’ but I adopted the LA accent well. Somehow you know about puppy chow up here—I bought some in your bakery section—which was my favorite snack back home. I missed it while living in California. What?”

I’m smiling too much. He’s not who I’d expected him to be. “I’m enjoying listening. Tell me more. What part of LA are you in now?”

Reed winces. “I’m moving out of the city.”

“What? Why? I can’t imagine leaving—I loved it there.”

He frowns. “Is life in Swift River that bad?”

“Yes,” I blurt. “I would go back to LA in a heartbeat, if I could.”

His fingers brush over the back of my hand. “I understand. I refuse to move back home. I haven’t decided where I’m landing yet, but it won’t be Los Angeles.”

His expression tells me not to push. “Is your whole family in Iowa?”

I’m happy to see Reed relax in his chair. “My mom and my sister, Amanda, are near Coralville. Amanda is firmly rooted, married with two kids, but my brother Grant is in Chicago, enjoying the bachelor life.”

“As are you?”

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