Page 133 of What We Break
"Did Blake make his motor oil coffee again?" Reid asks, grinning at his friend.
"It's not that strong," Blake says calmly. I've got whiplash. How does he go from mean to calm like that? He's so good at pretending.
"Right. And I'm the Easter Bunny." Reid takes a sip and winces. "Jesus, Blake. Are you trying to kill us?"
Blake almost smiles at that, and I watch the two of them — the easy back-and-forth, the shorthand that comes from years of just being around each other. Reid has no idea what just happened.
"I should go," I say, setting down my barely touched coffee. "I needto get home, shower and change clothes. And I have a few things I have to get done before my shift tonight."
"You don't have to rush off," Reid says, frowning. "I was going to make breakfast. I'm getting better at it."
"I'm so sorry. Raincheck?" I can't look at Blake. Can't spend another minute in this kitchen pretending everything's fine.
"It's a date," Reid says, grinning. "I'll walk you out."
I shake my head. "It's okay. I can find my way."
Except I can't actually leave like this. I'm standing in his kitchen wearing nothing but his shirt.
"I need to get my clothes." My voice comes out strained, thinner than I want it to. Why can't I be as good at pretending as Blake? I never wished to be a good liar. Even when I was a kid sneaking treats from the kitchen, I never wished I was a liar.
But now, I wish I'd had a little more practice at faking it.
"I'll come with you," Reid says, frowning, his hand finding the small of my back.
Upstairs in his room, I start gathering my clothes from the night before — scattered across the floor like breadcrumbs leading back to an earlier version of me. That version that thought everything was going to go my way from here on out. So stupid.
My hands won't stop shaking as I pull on my jeans.
"Hey," Reid says softly, closing the door behind us. "What happened down there? You seem upset."
I pause with my sweater halfway over my head. Do I tell him? Do I explain how his best friend just made me feel like garbage? Do I explain that I got jealous for a second? God, what would he think of me? No. I just need to get out of here.
"Blake and I just had a weird moment," I say finally, pulling the sweater down. "It's probably nothing."
"What kind of weird moment?"
I sit on the edge of his bed to put on my shoes, trying to figure out how to explain without sounding dramatic. "I shouldn't have been down there in a t-shirt. That wasn't appropriate. So I apologized for that." I work my foot into the shoe. "But it was obvious he'd been with someone last night, so I asked him about it."
Reid face goes still. "And what did he say?"
"That he was, but it's nothing special." I tie my shoelaces, keeping my eyes on the knot. "But he got kind of... cold about it."
"Cold how?"
"Just... dismissive. Like I was making something out of nothing." I stand up, smoothing down my sweater. "Maybe I was."
Reid sits on the bed and pulls me closer, his hands settling on my hips. "Blake can be intense sometimes. He's not great with... emotional stuff. Or talking about feelings."
"It wasn't really about feelings. But I feel like I stepped in it, and I was just trying to smooth things over. I wanted to make sure we could all hang out normally."
"And I'm sure we can. Blake probably just felt weird about you bringing it up at all." Reid's thumbs trace along my hipbones. "You know how guys are. We pretend awkward moments never happened instead of talking about them."
Maybe Reid's right. Maybe Blake just felt uncomfortable and that's why he came at me like that. Maybe I caught him off guard and he didn't know what to do with it.
God, I hope he's right. "You think that's all it was?"
"I'm sure that's all it was." Reid leans up and kisses me softly. "Blake's a good guy, Laine. He's just... private. And probably still adjusting to having someone else around the house."
