Page 36 of Off Camera
Me
Sounds good. Should I wear Crocs?
Reid
You should. We can match.
Me
Do you really own a pair?
Reid
Guess you’ll have to snoop around my place and find out.
Me
Are you giving me permission to snoop?
Reid
I’ve got nothing to hide.
I already cleaned up the bodies.
Me
Nothing screams ‘first date’ like murder jokes.
Is it silly to say I’m excited to see you?
Reid
Even after the murder joke?
Me
Yeah, believe it or not.
Reid
Not silly at all. I’m excited to see you too.
I knockon the door to Reid’s apartment at one minute to six, and it swings open.
He’s standing there with spaghetti sauce on his cheek. His glasses are foggy, and there’s a noodle stuck in his hair.
“Wow. Talk about a warm welcome,” I say. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
“I feel like it too. I overestimated my ability to multitask,” he says. “I’m trying to do my mom’s chicken parmesan and failing miserably. She’d disown me if she could see my kitchen right now. It’s a fucking disaster.”
“Do you want some help?”
His eyes sweep over my outfit. They start at the yellow tank top and work down to the denim skirt I paired it with. He lingers on my white sneakers and the anklet I looped around my left calf. When he finds the ribbon I tied in my hair to keep it out of my face, he blows out a rough breath.
“I don’t want you to get messy,” he says. “You look really pretty.”
“I like to be messy,” I say, and his cheeks flush a dark red.
