“As I got older, he added another line. ‘No druggies, boozers, or cons, Becca. They can’t be trusted. A leopard never changes his spots.’”
Reid stiffened. “Cons?”
“Convicts,” I explained. “My dad saw too many bad ones, I guess. Repeat offenders. He begged me never to date one, not that I was interested. I prefer law-abiding citizens.”
Reid didn’t say anything else.
I finished his hair quickly, running my hands through the strands. A tremor went through his body, and his shoulders slumped.
I rubbed his arm, his shoulders damp from the water. “Are you cold?”
“No.”
“What’s the matter?”
His voice was dull. “Nothing.” He stood abruptly. “Are you done?”
“Um, yes. Did you want to take a look?”
“No, it’s fine.”
I reached out to flick a strand of hair off his cheek, and he jerked back, my hand hanging in the air between us.
“I just remembered I have someplace I have to be,” he said, looking over my shoulder.
I blinked. “O-kay?”
He grabbed his bag, heading for the door. “Thanks for the haircut, Becca. And lunch.”
I hurried after him. “Reid? What is it?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” He shook his head, looking anything but fine. “I’m late. I’ll see you on Monday.”
He left, rushing out so fast he forgot to shut the door.
What the hell had just happened?
Becca
After Reid tore out of the apartment, I cleaned the hair from the floor and sat down with a cup of coffee. I was confused and worried.
I traced the edge of the lily closest to me, the velvet texture of the flower soft under my touch. It had been such a fun morning. Reid had been relaxed, patient, and open. I loved hearing him talk. He was intelligent and funny. He was also a great listener and asked a lot of questions, which showed he was paying attention—a rare combination.
Then, he kissed me. The sweetest, hottest kiss I had ever experienced. He was tentative, gentle, and warm. I felt his adoration in the kiss. I also felt the way he reacted. His cock pressed between us left me no doubt of his desire. His quiet insistence we weren’t ready had only increased how much I liked him. The kisses we shared on the sofa, and his reaction to me, made me certain of his attraction. It was mutual.
But he had shut down. I went through our conversation and dropped my head into my hands. I had gone on about my dad. Reid had no parents, and undoubtedly, I made him uncomfortable and upset him the way I blathered on about how close we were. It must have struck a chord within him.
I would apologize on Monday.
I looked around the room, smiling at everything Reid had helped me accomplish. It felt like home now. We had hung my pictures, and the few knickknacks I took everywhere were now displayed. My books were on the shelves, my pole fully set up. Reid had even planned where a TV could go when I was ready. He assured me with wireless technology he could hide the electronic items so it would have a clean look.
The way he kept glancing at the pole made me smile. It fascinated him. I wondered if he, like many other men, found it a turn-on. I wanted to find out.
I finished my coffee and set the empty cup in the sink, once more looking at my flowers. Daisies yesterday, lilies today.
I sighed.
Would there be any others, or had I ruined that chance?
Monday morning, Reid sat across the room from me at the usual, start of the week staff meeting. He was quiet, volunteering nothing until Aiden called on him, and his answers were short. Normally, one of the three BAM men would be telling him to wrap up the technical jargon and move along. There was always a great deal of laughter and teasing during those meetings. Today, it was as if everyone felt the odd vibe in the room. I noticed Aiden looked between Reid and me more than once, but he remained silent. After the meeting, Reid went to his office immediately and pushed the door shut behind him. I got the hint and didn’t bother him. I did my work, talked to other coworkers, and tried to ignore his closed door.
I barely slept that night.
When I arrived at work on Tuesday, Reid’s door was open, but he wasn’t at his desk. When I casually asked Sandy, she told me there was a problem in the server room and he’d been in there all morning. I didn’t hear his voice all day.
For the first time since I arrived, my computer appeared to be in perfect working order. Not a glitch in sight.
Wednesday, out of desperation, I jammed the printer and deleted a file I needed on purpose. Picking up the phone, I called Reid.
“Becca,” he answered in a flat voice. “What can I do for you?”
I ignored his bland greeting. “Reid, I’ve lost a file. I can’t find it anywhere. I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Send me the name, and I’ll look in the system and find it. You probably put it in the wrong drive.”
“No, wait!” I gasped, knowing he was going to hang up.
“Yes?”
“My printer isn’t working.”
I heard his low sigh. “Fine, I’ll be in shortly.”
Typically, he appeared right away. This time, I waited almost thirty minutes until he walked into my office, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else.
“You didn’t send me the file name.”
“Hello to you too, Reid. I hope the rest of your weekend went well?”
He looked shocked. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”
“I see. So that’s your excuse for being rude?”
“I’m not being rude. I’m busy.”
I crossed my arms. “I’ve been here for weeks. Every day, you say hello. Every Monday you sit beside me at the staff meeting. Every day you talk to me, even if it is all about BAM. This weekend, you kiss me, and now you can’t say hello or come close? Did I do that bad a job on your hair I deserve the silent treatment? Or am I that bad a kisser?”
He gawked, his mouth hanging open. He shook his head wildly. “No.”
“No to what? The hair or the kiss?”
He sat down, defeated. Bending forward, his hands clutched between his knees, he lowered his head.
I waited, resisting the urge to drum my fingers on my desk.
Finally, he lifted his head.
“My hair looks great. Even Bentley told me it was an improvement. Usually, he only says something when he hates it. So for the cut, I’m grateful.”
“And?” I prompted.
He glanced behind me, not meeting my eyes. “Kissing you was the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. But it can’t happen again. I think we need to be friends.”
I held my temper and resisted telling him I didn’t appreciate him making the decision for both of us. “I thought we were friends.”
He smiled, but it seemed strained. His eyes looked tormented. “We are, and in order to stay that way, we need to be only friends.”
I had to stop myself from reaching out to him. “Whatever I said to upset you, I’m sorry.”
“You said nothing. I realized, though, that if we attempt anything else and it doesn’t work, it would be too uncomfortable for us working in the same office. So before we make that mistake, we have to stop.” He blew out a big breath. “Friends.”