Page 39 of Off Camera
“They’re in my bedroom. Do you really want to see?”
“I wouldn’t have said so otherwise,” I say.
“Just keep the jokes to a minimum, okay?”
I follow Reid through the apartment. There are pictures hanging on the walls, and I get quick glimpses into his life. There’s one of him with a woman who has the same red hair as him.
Another of him, Dallas, and Maverick, their arms slung over each other’s shoulders and wide grins on their faces. There’s himon a football field, pieces of confetti in his hair and more stuck to his forehead.
It’s nice to see him celebrating his friends’ successes.
“Do you have any siblings?” I ask.
“No. Only child. What about you?”
“A younger sister. She’s in New York working in fashion and merchandising.”
“The city that never sleeps.”
“Have you been?”
“More than I’d like,” he says. “It’s not my favorite place in the world.”
“What is?”
“Tough question. Seattle is okay. Atlanta in January isn’t half bad. Denver is decent.”
“You’re quite the traveler.”
“Work takes me places,” he says, opening a door to our right. “I get to go to London next year.”
“I love London,” I gush, and I step into his bedroom.
It’s exactly what I thought it’d look like.
Soft beige walls and a big blue comforter on a king-sized bed. A desk to the right with two laptops and a cell phone on top of a stack of papers. A nightstand with a lamp and a charging cable.
The real centerpiece is the array of comic books displayed along the wall.
Three long, clear shelves are tacked to the paint. Each edition is sitting upright and in pristine condition. Half of them still have plastic wrap on them, and I spot publications that must have cost hundreds of dollars.
“Holy shit. Is that the black cover variant ofVenom#1?” I ask.
“Okay, seriously.” Reid leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. I try not to stare at the way the tendons in his forearms flex, but I’m doing a terrible job. “Howthe hell are you so knowledgeable on comic books? The average person doesn’t know shit besides the Marvel superheroes, and you’re over here talking about misprint editions. What’s your secret?”
“I had a crush on a guy in high school who loved them,” I admit. “I made it my mission to know everything about collector’s editions, characters, and storylines so I could impress him. He turned out to be a massive douche, and I ended up falling in love with all the worlds out there. Now I read them for me.”
“Is it too soon to ask you to marry me?”
I laugh. “Sorry. I have a five-date minimum before?—”
I’m interrupted by the shrill sound of the fire alarm echoing down the hall. I jump a foot in the air at the noise and cover my ears. Reid groans.
“I think we might have a situation on our hands,” I yell.
“How do you feel about Mexican food?” he yells back.
I grin. “Sounds perfect.”
