Page 152 of What We Brave
"That conniving little?—"
"He gave us space." I shrug. "Knew I wouldn't make a move with him here. Knew you might not either."
"Still." She pokes my chest. "Sneaky."
"Yep."Thank you, Reid.
She settles back against me. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my stomach. Circles and swirls that make my muscles jump.
"Do you think he's okay?"
She doesn't say who. Doesn't have to.
"Reid?"
"He just... left. Handed us this morning like it was nothing." She's quiet for a beat. "Is he actually fine? Or is he doing that thing where he acts fine?"
Shit.The fact that she already knows Reid does that—that she's already learned to read him well enough to question the performance—is kind of a relief. Like looking out for him isn't just my job anymore.
"I don't know." I catch her hand. Bring it to my lips. Kiss her knuckles. Honest answer, even though it tastes bad. "He's good at hiding it. Better than anyone I've ever met."
"That's not reassuring."
"No. It's not."
I stare at the ceiling. The water stain in the corner that I keep meaning to fix. Reid joked about it looking like Abraham Lincoln last week. Made Laine laugh so hard she snorted.
"He puts everyone else first," I say. "Always has. Even when it costs him. Especially when it costs him. He'll light himself on fire to keep the people he loves warm and then tell you the burns don't hurt."
"That sounds like someone else I know."
I ignore that.
"We need to watch him." My thumb traces her knuckles. Back and forth. "Make sure he's not just... performing okay for our sake. Becausehe will. He'll smile and crack jokes and make it look easy, and meanwhile?—"
I stop. Because I know what meanwhile looks like. I've seen it. Seven years of watching Reid hold himself together with duct tape and bad jokes while the cracks spread underneath.
"Meanwhile what?" Laine asks softly.
"Meanwhile he's the one standing alone."
She's quiet for a long time. Her fingers have stopped their patterns on my stomach. Just resting there. Still.
"He whispered something else to me," she says. "Before he left. When he crouched by my chair."
I wait.
"He said 'don't hold back with him. He needs this.'"
Fuck.
The words land like a punch. Right in the center of my chest where everything's still cracked open and raw.
Because that's Reid. That's exactly Reid. Orchestrating everyone else's happiness from the outside like he doesn't need any of his own.
And I just spent the morning in bed with his girl while he sat in someone's driveway pretending to help move furniture.
"Hey." Laine tips her head back. Reads my face. "Don't do that."
