Page 67 of Reverse

Easton lifts to sit as Benji looks between us. “You two hungry?”

“We’ll probably grab something after this,” Easton states, though it’s news to me. I watch as Benji makes a beeline for the back door of the shop, pulling cigarettes out as he goes. The door closes as I stare into the foamy head of my beer feeling Easton’s watchful gaze on my profile, knowing what’s coming.

“Downplaying your need for answers won’t help you get them.”

“He doesn’t know anything anyway. I told you I was going to drop it, and I will as soon as my plane wheels go up tomorrow. I was never here,” I say. “I have to let it go for my own sanity.”

“If you say so,” Easton mutters, clearly disbelieving.

“Hasyourmother ever mentioned my dad?”

“I thought about it last night. Growing up, the stories I paid attention to, no, but I wouldn’t expect her to talk about him if they were as serious as you say they were—”

“They wereengaged, Easton,” I clarify for both our sakes, beating it into my psyche as I try to keep my gaze averted from the living, breathing temptation feet away from me. “It doesn’t get much more serious than that.”

Easton nods as he shifts on the table, clasping his hands between his knees.

“So, yeah, I don’t think Mom would mention him much. If she has, it’s probably been in the context of her old editor.”

I nod. “You could have invited Benji to dinner,” I attempt to change the subject.

“I didn’t want to,” he admits readily, and I lift my gaze to his.

“What pissed you off about the movie?”

“You really don’t miss anything, do you?” I sip my beer.

“You’re really not that great at hiding what irks you. What is it about the movie that bothers you?”

“From what I read in their emails, he helped shape her into the writer she became,” I shake my head. “She didn’t even acknowledge him in the movie. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it was intentional because she didn’t want to hurt him. I wonder if she reached out or just decided to leave him out altogether.” I brave a look at him. “Are you even remotely curious about this?”

“I’m confident in what my parents have and know they’re in a good, solid place, but yeah, I’m growing more curious because it struck you hard enough to get you here.”

“I don’t want to project what I’m feeling on you.”

“That’s a needless worry. I don’t let others’ perceptions change my mind aboutanythingunless I agree with it.”

“It’s that simple for you, huh?”

Silence. That’s my cue to look at him. Right now, I can’t because the beer is not only loosening my tongue, it’s making me more aware of his effect on me.

“Look at me, Natalie.”

Jesus, the way he rasps out my name. It can’t sound so good, but it does.

“Natalie,” he repeats, “look at me.”

I don’t. “It’s not just that he helped shape her as a writer . . . they seemed solid, and I think—”

“What?”

“I think Reid . . . I think your dad—”

“Broke them up?”

“Maybe he had something to do with it. To be fair though, it’s pretty clear from the emails that your mom made a choice because she and my dad broke up months before she moved to Seattle and stumbled upon your dad at that house. I’m just unsure of what broke them up in the first place. After reading in their own words how much they loved each other, it was hard to imagine that anything or anyone could come between them.”

The back door of the parlor slams shut just before Benji closes the bathroom door behind him.

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