Page 35 of Fall Twice

Reid takes hold of my hands. “By all means, we can catch up more, but want to take advantage of your day off sans Oscar? You don’t even need to get dressed.”

Looking down at the fact that I’m in his shirt, I wonder if it’s strange for him to see me this way. I ruefully shake my head at his comment and then point a finger at him. “You have papers to grade.”

He moves slowly onto his hands and knees, crawling to me across the sofa, approaching me seductively. “I’d rather assess you on all fours while I take you from behind.” His mouth lands on the bottom edge of the shirt and his teeth take hold to drag the fabric up slightly.

“You know, considering this all started because we were celebrating your rejuvenated dick, he really is taking center stage on everything that is transpiring,” I tell him as my entire body curves up against him.

A deep snicker sounds from the back of his throat. “Nothing’s transpiring. We’re just having the reunion we were meant for.”

I have no clue what his words mean, and because he possesses me then all caution is thrown to the wind, especially when he nuzzles his mouth between my breasts.

Reid turnsthe engine off as he parks in front of my place. The whole car ride was silent. Because how do you end a night and day filled with laughter, sex, and a connection I never quite understood?

Slowly I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Thanks for driving me home.”

“No problem. Stranded and tied to my bed will have to wait for another time,” he attempts to joke, and I can see he’s kind of nervous, as his finger taps the wheel.

“Another time,” I sigh. With confidence, I look at him with a wry smile. “Probably let’s not overthink what this was.”

Safe option. That’s the smart thing to do.

Now Reid has to grin. “Good. I guess I will see you soon for coffee, randomly in my lecture, or when you feel inclined to video call in only a towel—just throwing out some options.”

I chortle at him before I escape the car because he makes me feel reassured that we will be alright, and that means my heart may just stay intact.

12

REID

Shaking my head, I don’t know if I should be entertained or fiercely annoyed. My mother bats her lashes at me before looking at the menu on the wall of Ginger & Co. It was my lucky day when I walked out of my lecture to find my mother waiting on a bench, having just arrived for a surprise visit.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she chides as she plays with her long colorful earring that matches her knee-length tunic and tights. She’s proud of herself for throwing me off course.

But in truth, I’m never not happy to see her. My parents have given me a good life, have hearts of gold, and will never be shy about saying what’s on their mind.

“Your father has business in Seattle, and I figured this was a perfect time not to be home alone,” she adds.

“So, you hopped on a plane from Charlotte to Chicago?” I sound skeptical of her spur-of-the-moment plan.

I order our coffees, and we head to a table by the window. Sitting down, my mother can’t stop smiling at me. She reaches over the table to squeeze my hand before she pats my cheek like I’m seven. “You had such a great milestone the other week. I wanted to take you out to dinner or just… see my boy.”

I shoo away her hand and roll my shoulders back. “Here I am.”

“Did you do anything to celebrate?”

Without thinking, I say, “I did. I wasn’t alone if that’s what you’re worried about.” Shit, I realize the error of my ways when I see her interest is piqued. “Just a good bottle of wine.” And hours and hours of orgasms, but I leave that detail out.

She doesn’t press. “You look good. This facial hair thing, I was skeptical, but it’s just short enough. You seem to be in tip-top shape too.” She continues to gush my praises.

I’m thankful when the barista brings our drinks, as it means I may actually get a moment of quiet from my mother; nonetheless, a grin tugs on my lips.

“Would you tell me if I looked like shit?” I wonder.

She waves off my thought. “No, but I swear I’m not lying when I say that you look almost radiant.”

I hum a sound as I take a sip of coffee. I should really ask the owners of this place about investment options, I’m here often enough.

“I can’t complain about life lately,” I tell her, and I feel the smile not fading on my lips.

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