Page 44 of The Rest is History
There’s that look again. Like I’ve done something wrong. He looks at me for too long and I can’t keep my eyes off him.
We go our separate ways. I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
Chapter 19
Sawyer
Reece is already on the gravel road, walking in the direction of his apartment when I fire up the truck. I’m the asshole here, making him feel like he’s done something wrong when the whole problem is that I can’t look at him without remembering all the things I made Asher do and say in bed.
I get the truck onto the road and slow down alongside him. “Reece,” I call out.
He turns, cupping his hand over his forehead to block out the sun.
“Let me give you a ride home.”
He laughs. “It’s like ten minutes. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, well, it'll be a minute if we drive. Come on. Get in.”
“Uh, okay.”
The drive is literally a minute but I manage to fantasize about this man sitting next to me as if time is infinite. So many thoughts in sixty seconds. My body stirs, just thinking about how Asher and I got off this past weekend. My head is nothing but a clusterfuck of thoughts and the only thing keeping my mind from splitting apart is the fact that Asher isn’t divorcing me over all of it.
“Hey, can we stop at the General Store for a second?” he asks.
“Sure. I should go in for some milk too.”
Inside the store, Reece heads for the household essentials section and I grab a half-gallon of milk. We end up at the same checkout, with Reece behind me holding a bottle of dish soap and a jar of peanut butter.
“Sawyerrr.” Deliah Smith’s ruby red lips widen when I step up to the checkout. She rings up my milk, shifting her eyes between me and Reece. “How are you?” She pushes strands of her auburn hair away from her forehead and her eyes burn with curiosity like a light blue flame. She has a red badge pinned to her cardigan that says: TAKE AMERICA BACK.
“Good, Deliah. Hope you’re okay.” Because I can’t risk asking Deliah how she’s doing or I’ll be here till tomorrow.
“Hmm.” She jerks her head toward Reece, and asks in her nasal voice, “Your friend?”
Dotty already warned him about Deliah so he smiles tightly, not saying anything.
“This is Reece Carter. He’s new in town.”
She gives Reece a once-over, her smile turning into a knowing grin. “Oh, I know. Quiet one, aren’t you?” she tells Reece.
Then, before he can answer, she carries on. “I heard Al’s got only three months to live,” she says. “I was telling Mr. Duncan – Gerald – about it and he said he heard it was six months.”
“It’s bronchitis, Deliah. And he’s going to be fine.”
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” She smiles again. “And I hope we’ll see you at the election rally next weekend. No one’s gonna take care of all of us like Trump, honey. I’m head campaigner for Linksfield this year, and I want to see you there.”
I only just manage not to roll my eyes and consider bolting as soon as my milk is paid for, but leaving Reece to deal with Deliah would probably destroy him. So, I wait until he’s been rung up and with a wave, we make our getaway.
“Don’t be a stranger, Reece,” she calls out.
I pull up to the side of Reece’s apartment building. “Thanks,” he says, but before he gets off, he gives me one last look. “Are you sure this thing of me working with you, staying here and all that hasn’t become a problem?”
I wonder what he’ll say if I tell him the real reason I can’t even look him in the face. I want my husband to fuck you and I want to suck your dick while he’s doing it.
Asher used to talk about how anxious he could be. I understand this is just his anxiety acting up and correctly picking up on cues, but he’ll never guess the real reason. So, I should just chill the fuck out.
“No. It’s not a problem.”
