Page 130 of What We Break
And underneath it all, a faint trace of Leanne's shampoo, and sex.
The coffee machine gurgles to life. I lean against the counter. What the fuck do I do? I can leave the house every time they fuck. Or I can move back out to the shed.
Hell, if I thought I could convince Reid, I'd buy a trailer and park it at the back of the property where I can't hear or see them being happy. Living their lives.
Reid would lose his shit if I even suggested that.
I pour myself a cup of coffee even though it's not quite finished brewing, then pull a thermos out of the cupboard. I don't plan on coming back here today. Not as long as she's here.
The first sip is bitter and too strong. A few cups of this, and I'll be able to ignore the fact that I barely slept last night.
Footsteps on the stairs. Light. Barefoot. Not Reid's.
Laine.
Too late to run. And yeah, maybe wanting to bolt out of my own house should bother me, but it doesn't. Running's the smart play here.
But it's too fucking late. I turn around and she's in the doorway.
She's wearing his shirt. Slipped off one shoulder, showing that stretch of skin I spent half the night trying not to think about.
My lungs just…empty.
"Shoot," she says, looking for a second like she wants to run. "Um. Morning," she says softly. Her voice is still rough from sleep. From calling Reid's name in the dark.
"Morning," I force out, looking somewhere around her left ear.
Laine's eyes flicker over my appearance. The wrinkled clothes. The exhaustion. She steps closer, and that's when it happens.
She's close enough now that I can smell her—vanilla and underneath it all, the faint scent of sex. But she can smell me, too. I see the exact moment she registers the perfume clinging to my clothes. The floral sweetness that doesn't belong to anyone who lives in this house.
Her eyes widen slightly. Just for a second. Then her expression goes carefully neutral.
But not before I catch something else flickering across her face.
Something that looks almost like hurt.
26
LAINE
Iwake up slowly, awareness creeping in like warm honey. Reid's arm is around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, his steady breathing against my neck. For a moment I just lie there, letting myself feel completely content.
I didn't know this kind of happy existed. This knowing I'm right where I'm supposed to be, feeling totally at home kind of happy.
Reid stirs behind me, pressing a sleepy kiss to my shoulder. "Morning," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
"Morning." I turn in his arms so I can see his face. His hair is sticking up everywhere and there's a pillow crease on his cheek. He looks rumpled and perfect.
"Sleep okay?"
"Better than okay." I trace the pillow line on his cheek with my finger. "You?"
"Best sleep I've had in years." Reid's smile is soft and content. "Though I think we're going to have to buy new sheets."
Heat crawls up my neck. "Why?"
"Because I'm never washing these ones. Evidence of the best night of my life."
