Page 75 of Unforgettable

“Okaaay,” I droll.

“And I stand by that, but I feel like pointing out that there’s nothing fake about what you and Reeve have, isn’t really telling you something you don’t already know.”

“I know that,” I admit on an exhale. “I just didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“Like what?”

Wonderful. Scary. Perfect.

“I just didn’t expect to like him this much,” I say, downplaying my feelings. “And now that he’s avoiding me, I have no idea if we’re even on the same page.”

“Just talk to him, because the only person who can tell you how Reeve is feeling, is Reeve.”

I repeatedly run a hand over my head in contemplation, knowing she’s absolutely right. But every single part of me knows I don’t want to have the conversation.

If I know Reeve, I know whatever happened the last time we spent time together freaked him the fuck out. I can even pinpoint the exact moment his thoughts went into overdrive, and I anticipated more platonic stipulations as the days progressed, but waking up to an empty bed and finding an impersonal note was like a punch to the gut.

I tried to play it cool, but with every passing day and every short text message, my patience turned into frustration, and now that he’d decided to borrow Murph’s car to come up to the winery instead of coming with me like we planned, my frustration had dissipated and now I was just fucking hurt.

“I’ll talk to him,” I tell her. “But after this weekend. I don’t want to ruin the wedding.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Maddy squeezes my shoulder. “But maybe figure out how to smile again before you come inside, yeah?”

* * *

My phone vibrates.

Reeve: I’m here. Walking to the restaurant.

“Is Reeve finally here?” Kat calls out as I raise my head up from my phone. “Will you finally stop looking like a lovesick puppy without him?”

She’s smiling, so I know she’s joking, but it doesn’t mean that’s not exactly how I’ve felt since arriving.

The rehearsal dinner is more of a formality than it is of purpose. The wedding party itself is only my family and a few of Dixie and Archer’s closest friends. But the house on the vineyard is like an elaborate stone castle, made for romance and fairy tales.

“He is,” I answer, standing up. “I’m just going to go meet him out front and bring him inside.”

Just as the words leave my mouth, Reeve is being led to the table by the maître d’.

“Reevey,” my sisters scream, and the apples of Reeve’s cheeks blush beautifully.

God, I’ve missed him.

My lungs expand as I take him in, as if it’s been years and not days since I last saw him. His chocolate-colored eyes find mine, and a slow, tentative smile spreads across his face.

It reminds me so much of the night we first met. Of that adorably nervous and so very sexy man I met. Except this time, I know what’s underneath his clothes and behind those shy eyes.

Now, I know how he smells, how he tastes, how he feels.

I know how he looks when he’s happy, when he’s sad, when he’s turned on.

I know what he looks like when he’s scared and worried, and that’s exactly what he is right now.

The chatter fades into the background with every step he takes. When he’s closer, I hesitantly reach for his hand, trying to bridge the gap between us. But he surprises me when he closes the distance and cups my cheek.

Wordlessly, with no thought about our audience, he tilts his head and presses his lips firmly against mine. The relief is immediate.

Like a rainbow after the storm.

---