Page 59 of Already Falling

“You don’t have to ask me twice. Let me know if you guys need anything. I’ll probably be stuck at the registers because it looks like the whole county figured out that we keep it cold in here.” Chloe turns to shuffle back to the registers, where four more people have joined the line since she greeted us.

Reid and I both get large iced green teas from the connected cafe and aimlessly wander the book aisles. We spend ten or fifteen minutes not saying much. He and I follow each other in content silence, occasionally pulling out some books to look at or show each other. He picks up a paperback from the historical fiction section, and I grab the third book in a series I’ve been reading. We take our respective choices to the big armchairs in the corner of the store. We comfortably settle into the chairs and read, not expecting the other to strike up a conversation, just peacefully reading.

I appreciate that he is not saying anything and that we can both happily sit in quiet reading our books. I’ve felt a sense of calm wash over me recently. I recall being so self-conscious of each movement not that long ago. I felt like everyone was always watching me and calculating my moves, judging me. As if my life choices didn’t measure up to the expectations of passing strangers. The feeling now brushes past me, a distant memory. I feel relaxed here. It feels like my place, my home.

I settle deeper in my seat and flip to the next page of my book. As I do, I can’t help but peer up from my book every so often and look over at Reid. Our chairs are side by side with a small table in between, but the chairs are slightly angled toward one another. Depending on what page I’m reading, I can gaze up at him naturally. A motivation to read faster, I suppose. His hair is shorter now since it’s summer, and he can’t stand his hair getting in his face.

I gotta say, I do miss the way his hair would curl around the baseball caps he wears to work, but his shorter hair looks good too. It’s short on the sides, and the top has enough volume that it still flops in front of his forehead. He pushes it back every few minutes. I’m not sure if he is enjoying the book he is reading because his nose is scrunched up, and his thick eyebrows are knitted together. I refrain myself from reaching over and smoothing the tension between his brows. I keep trying to keep my eyes on the book in my hands, but my eyes flick up to Reid each time he fingers his hair from his forehead.

He catches me taking one of those stolen glances and meets my gaze with a soft smirk.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Gomes?” I love it when he calls me by my last name.

“How adorable you are,” Is what I want to say. But instead, I say, “Are you enjoying your book?”

His smirk falls, and he glances over the pages before closing them and setting the book on the side table between our chairs. He turns his body so he’s facing me directly now. “Meh, it takes place in the 1700s, which is the period I’m least interested in for some reason. Give me the 1600s, heck, even the 1900s, and I’m all about it. But something about this pre-United States era is just a big bore to me. What about you? How’s your book?”

I glance down and realize although I’ve read through several pages, I can’t recall any of the words. “It’s good. It’s the third in the series, so I know all the characters. Not much has happened, though.”

“Is that one of those romance books with a cute cover so no one realizes you’re just reading porn in public?” He makes a move to try and grab the book out of my hands, but I pull the book to my chest so he can’t swipe it. I can feel my cheeks getting warm.

“So, what if it is?” I lower my head and bat my eyelashes heavily in his direction. He seems to squirm a little, which pleases me. “I like to live vicariously through characters in the books I read.”

I can see him pause to form a response. I am entering a danger zone, but we still have a while to wait for Chloe to finish up work, so why not shake things up? Maybe a year ago, I would have felt too empty, too unmotivated in life to even bother. But I’m on a warpath to do exactly as I want. And I want to flirt with my new friend. Is that a crime? If it isn’t, it should be because I feel an excitement rush through me, I haven’t felt in years. I could very well ruin the friendship we’ve established in these short months, but maybe I’m willing to risk it.

“When was the last time you were with someone?” Oh, so he’s going straight to the point. I always appreciated Reid’s directness. I look around, and no one in the store is near us. Not like anyone would care. I doubt my sex life is big news in this town.

“Uh, let’s just say it's been a while.”

“Oh, come on, you know about Carrie. Let me in on your past, a lil’ Anni.” He leans forward and softens his eyes. He’s asking as a friend, I assume.

“Well, you were with Carrie in the last six months…for me, it’s been….” I pause, drifting my eyes up, pretending to do the math as if I don’t know that the last time I let anyone inside of me was the worst night of my life. “...it’s been about four years, give or take…” I quickly open my book and bury my face in it.

He chuckles and reaches for my book again, this time swiping it away from my hands. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It just means no one was worth your energy.”

“I mean, the last guy definitely wasn’t worth my energy.”

His stare bores into my soul. “Okay, you gotta elaborate. You can’t leave me hanging on that.”

I swallow and fidget with my fingers. I don’t know if I’ve said my last experience out loud with anyone besides my mom or Chloe, which was immediately after it happened. I’ve grown a lot since then, and I feel like it’s part of my healing journey to not let the experience claw at my insides. I’m bigger than my trauma, and I refuse to let it stop me from finding happiness.

“It’s just so embarrassing and a bad memory…” He sits up and opens his mouth as if to say, never mind, but my mouth decides to word vomit the rest out. “I got really drunk at a club and hooked up with Trey Roberts in the club bathroom. You remember Trey? The yeti? You saved me that one time he had his grimy hands on me. Well, he came at me again four years ago, and I let him. And after, I was alone and embarrassed and felt gross.”

I feel my eyes go glassy and suddenly realize I just told my crush-turned-ex-turned-friend-turned-crush about my last hookup in the middle of a bookstore. I feel sick and decide to curl up in the chair and pretend I’m anywhere but here.

“Hey.” I open my eyes, and Reid is squatting in front of my chair, his hands hovering out to the side.

He smiles, “I thought I told you to call me if he bothered you again.”

When I don’t smile in response, his expression falls. “I couldn’t. I mean it was after we matched on Flame.”

Reid braces his arms on either side of my chair. “Oh, I—I didn’t realize, it was then.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I’m sorry you went through that with Trey.”

I’m quiet for a moment, studying his face. More freckles are speckling along his nose because of the summer sun. I’m sure an abstract drawing would form if I connected them. His face is soft as he kneels next to me. I wish he would move his hands from the chair to my legs.