Page 26 of Unforgettable

He points at me. “Coupled with those sexy as fuck glasses I didn’t know you wore, I would’ve guessed something to do with books, writing, journalism. Anything with words.” A mixture of pain and awe tugs at my chest at Oz’s observation. A complete stranger seems to know me better than my family ever will. “I’ve seen the way your face lights up when you talk books with the customers. You are not a business and finance guy.”

I remain silent, a wedge of emotion clogging up my throat, making it hard to find the words to disagree with him and defend my parents, like I usually do.

“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” he worries. “Did I overstep?”

“No. No. Firstly,” I try to keep my tone light. “I’m long-sighted. Which means I struggle seeing up close. I prefer wearing my glasses to work, and contacts only when I’m going out. And secondly.” I swallow hard, thinking back to his original observation. “Nobody’s really called me out on the business and finance thing before.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he points out. “I kind of just have a problem with saying exactly what I feel or think in that moment.”

I smile, remembering. “I like that you do that.”

We stare at one another, in a comfortable silence, while my brain tries to come up with reasons not to open up to Oz and comes up empty. “After the summer,” I start, “I’ll be heading back to Connecticut to work for my family’s finance company. Hence the completed college degree.”

Now he’s the one who’s gone silent, and for the life of me, I can’t work out why.

“Hey, are you okay?” I prompt.

“Yeah,” he answers, a little too dismissively. “So, what’s the plan? You’ll just leave here and work for them?”

Since the conversation was originally about me and my family, I store his weird reaction in my memory bank for another time before continuing to explain my plans. “I’ve been trying to gain distance from them for so long, that’s why I went to college in a different state, and that’s why I’m here now instead of home.”

“Why all the distance?”

“I love my family,” I say honestly. “But apart from my sister, they just don’tgetme. It’s kind of their way or the highway. We argued for years. About where I would go to college and what I would study and then what I would do after,” I ramble. “And I’m the son who wants to please them, so I’m always trying to broker a compromise. And that’s what Seattle was. I could go anywhere in the country as long as I studied what they wanted and then went back home to work for them.”

Oz looks at me pensively. “And how do you feel now that the time has come for you to work for them?”

Sighing, I place my elbow on the table and rest my cheek on my hand. “Like I made a huge mistake.”

7

Oz

Listening to Reeve talk about his issues with his family is more than I was prepared for. Yes, he’s gorgeous to look at and our sexual attraction is off the freaking charts. But I did not expect to hear a similar version of my life and my relationship with my parents come out of his mouth.

And why did it bother me so much more that he was just conceding? He was giving them what they wanted without any type of fight. Should I be doing that with my parents?

I envisioned us talking shit, flirting here and there, but the heavy stuff came out, and I now feel both seen and invested.

Aisha returns with a tray of all the food I ordered. As she meticulously places each item on the table, the conversation is on pause, his last admission sitting heavily between us.

It kills me to think he or anybody would sign up for a life they don’t want, but we’re both living proof that you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

When Aisha leaves, I take it upon myself to dish up Reeve’s plate. I give him a little bit extra of everything, worried he’ll be too shy to ask for more if he likes it. I extend my arm over the table, placing his food down in front of him and then raise my eyes to meet his.

He’s staring at me. The edges of his lips are tipped up ever so slightly, offering me a small, warm smile.

“What?” I ask self-consciously.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

I don’t press the issue, choosing to load my own plate up instead. “If there’s anything you don’t like, tell me, and we can grab something else.”

“I’ll love it,” he says softly, his gaze still on me. The adoration in his expression now unmissable.

I don’t want him to look at me like that, but I love that he looks at me like that. Nobody has ever looked at me like I’m worth giving all their attention to. Not in the way Reeve does. Not the way he did in bed, and not the way he is right now. And it makes my chest feel light and my pulse quicken in ways I am extremely unfamiliar with.

He pops a spoonful of risotto into his mouth, and I eagerly watch the change in his features as he processes the different taste and textures. When he finally swallows, I raise an eyebrow expectantly.

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