Page 145 of What We Break
30
LAINE
Ipush open Reid's front door. "Reid?"
"Kitchen!" he calls back.
My overnight bag hits the floor and I'm already moving toward that smell. Whatever he's making has my mouth watering before I even round the corner.
He's at the stove in jeans and that gray t-shirt, the one with the hole near the collar that he refuses to throw away. I love that shirt on him. I slip my arms around his waist from behind and press my face between his shoulder blades. He's warm and solid and smells like soap and cumin, maybe. Something earthy.
"Smells amazing," I say against his back.
"Hey." He turns in my arms and gives me a real kiss, the kind that makes me forget there's food involved at all. "Perfect timing."
I should let him get back to cooking. I know I should. But his hands are on my waist and we have the whole weekend with no interruptions. So I don't.
"Blake really left?"
"About two hours ago. Drove to Portland to catch his flight." Reid's grinning. "We've got the place to ourselves until Sunday night."
I can't wait. Blake's mostly been keeping his distance while I'mhere, and there haven't been any more blow ups. But I'm tense. I'll admit it. So having him gone for the weekend feels fantastic.
I hate that, though. I hate that things got so strained between us. But maybe this weekend can be a reset. For all of us.
So I focus on my gorgeous boyfriend and shove the rest of it somewhere I don't have to look at it. I'm not letting it ruin this.
"And you're actually cooking? Like, real cooking?"
He nips at my neck and I laugh, swatting at him. "Don't sound so shocked." Then he turns back to the stove.
"I'm not shocked. I'm impressed. Four months ago you were living on frozen pizza and whatever Blake left in the fridge."
This is officially my longest relationship. I've been in this city longer than I've been anywhere, and so far, it's better than I ever imagined. He's better than I ever imagined a guy could be.
Reid waves his wooden spoon at me. "I've evolved."
"You've evolved," I repeat, grinning. "Look at you, using actual spices and everything."
"Don't get too excited. It's just chili."
"Just chili? Or Blake's chilli?"
Reid turns to face me, looking offended. "There are other chilli recipes out there in the world. I looked one up. I can follow directions you know."
"Do you think Blake would be horrified to think of you making some other recipe? Is he going to need to cleanse the space when he gets back?"
Reid chuckles, shaking his head. "You're joking, but you might not be far off. I'm already planning to text him pictures, just to fuck with him."
"So mean!"
The chuckle turns into a full cackle this time. I love seeing him like this. So carefree. So relaxed. And the thing is, I get this version of him a lot. Other than a few tense moments between us, things have been easy.
Too easy? No. I'm not going there. There's no such thing as too easy. Just because there was drama and pain in other relationships doesn't mean there has to be now.
Reid moves around the kitchen with easy confidence, checking the cornbread in the oven —from a mix I'm sure— and adjusting the heat under the chili. I like watching him cook. He’s different when he's focused on taking care of people - more relaxed maybe. His 'making chili' look is a lot like his paramedic look. Both so hot.
"So," I say, hopping up on the counter, "what does one do with an entire weekend of freedom?"
