Reid dropped his hand. Maybe it was too soon to push Sullivan into the dating scene.
He swiftly backed up.
The door swung open and Sullivan appeared, fully dressed down to the whistle, face wretched with emotion.
Reid’s focus suctioned onto Sullivan’s deeply pained expression. Not the first time he’d seen this look. But that didn’t stop the glimpse into the storm wrecking Reid’s fragile emotions. It dumped him in a land far away, where he didn’t know how to orient himself.
Sullivan halted, catching Reid in his path. Sullivan schooled his expression and grew another inch as he straightened his shoulders and laid glistening blue eyes on him. “What are you doing outside my door?”
“Aren’t I always outside your door?” Reid’s gaze fell to the bowl Sullivan balanced in one hand. The soup Reid had attempted to make for dinner. The liquid still sloshed around, barely touched. Like his own bowl had looked. “I mean . . . we should go out. Have a heart to heart. We can save dancing for another time.”
Sullivan eyed him warily.
Reid reached out and patted his arm, thumb rubbing across Sullivan’s hand. He hoped it said: sorry man. It’s okay to feel the pain. Let it out, okay?
Sullivan shifted in the doorway, and Reid glanced over his shoulder into the master cabin. The bed was easily twice the size of Reid’s, though not as tall, with scrunched sheets and a heavy-looking blue comforter.
Sullivan closed the door behind him, and a flush climbed Reid’s neck.
“I was debating heading out for something edible,” Sullivan said, moving past him.
Reid’s stomach lurched in agreement. “Not the best dinner I could have made.”
“Vegan cheese isn’t normally a good fit with carrot and—pasta, was it?”
“Pea pasta. Disintegrated a bit. Too much water, I guess. Shall we get dinner together?”
Sullivan headed upstairs and toward the kitchen.
Reid trotted after him. “You won’t leave a hungry man without food, will you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God. You’re killing me with your compassion and generosity.”
“You’re right.” Sullivan turned, a twinkle in his eye, and handed Reid his soup. “A minute in the microwave should suffice.”
Reid dumped it into the sink. “Don’t make me beg. Or do,” Reid started dropping to his knees.
Sullivan’s nostril’s flared and his eyes darkened. He cuffed Reid’s wrist and hauled him to his feet. They stood close, five seconds of shared air. Of Sullivan debating whether to let him come along or not. Until, finally, huskily, “Okay. Let’s go.”
Reid followed Sullivan to the deck door. “Will we eat in? Or takeout?”
Sullivan chuckled. “I’m quite done with takeout. Aren’t you?”
Reid grinned and flushed with guilt. “No idea what you’re talking about?”
“No idea, hmm?” Sullivan unhooked Reid’s coat from the closet and passed it to him.
Reid avoided direct eye contact and struggled to stuff his arm through the sleeve. “So, eating out. What do you think about paying for both of us? Next time on me?”
“This is not a date, Reid.”
Reid thought about the dire state of his bank account. He sighed. “I wish it was.”
He might squeeze ten dollars out of his card.
He’d have to try.
Sullivan zipped up his own coat, quietly deliberating. Like the idea of dating another guy was outside his comfort zone. Sullivan’s vaguely homophobic behavior was the only quality Reid disliked about the guy.
Reid sighed. “Okay, here’s another idea. We hit Target and you make food here.”
“Or I watch you cook,” Sullivan suggested.
Reid inwardly cursed the smugness overtaking Sullivan’s face. “I’m off the nanny clock. But you can show me what you love to eat. We’ll call it research.”
Sullivan opened the door and a wash of sleeting rain hit his boots. “I never pegged Cancer for being this stubborn.”
“It’s surprising me as well.”
They shopped for ages. Lots of vegetables filled the cart, along with oat milk and muesli, and the whole time Reid chatted, warming up to the meaningful stuff.
“. . . because these last weeks, it’s felt like I’m doing something wrong.” Reid eyed the shelf of chocolate mini muffins longingly.
“Just felt like it?” Sullivan asked, close behind him. “You nearly burned my yacht down.”
Reid flashed him an apologetic grin.
“Have you always charmed your way out of misadventures?” Sullivan asked curiously.
Reid studied the desserts. If he were sure his card wouldn’t decline, he’d buy those delicious-looking vegan muffins.
Full of sugar, of course. And ridiculously priced. “You’re the only person who has ever put my name alongside charm.”
He reluctantly shelved his first choice of dessert. Sullivan plucked it off the shelf. He eyed Reid softly, making Reid want to question who the man standing before him was, and what happened to Sullivan.
Sullivan hummed. “I can’t believe that.”
“Huh?”
Sullivan dropped the muffins into the cart, and Reid couldn’t figure out if a compliment lurked in there.
He shook it off and sauntered ahead. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“Whatever for?” Sullivan said, sounding like himself again.
“Because I’m curious.” Reid turned around, walking backward. “I want to get to know you. Don’t you want to get to know me?”
“Yes,” Sullivan said absently, and then snapped his mouth closed. “I mean . . . better not.”
Delight jumped around in Reid’s chest. “You said yes.” He grinned. “You want to know me.”
“A little.”
“You want to know all about me,” Reid teased. “You want to know me inside out and backward.”
The flash of warning in Sullivan’s eye halted Reid. Reid might be pushing too far. Being in Sullivan’s company longer than half an hour was growth. He had the rest of the school year for Sullivan to warm to him.
If he made it through this trial. Which he needed to happen.
Like, really needed to happen.
“It’s been two weeks,” Reid blurted as they headed toward the checkout. “I’m feeling my purpose with your family.”
He realized the moment it left his mouth that he’d said too much. Anxiety whistled through him. The true weight of what he and Joanna were trying to do with Project Anchor the Storm settled in his bones.
Also, his nape was sweating from that intense look in Sullivan’s eye. Some tension had to give, and that tension would be part of his secret. Enough that he wasn’t deceiving Sullivan; not enough to give Joanna away.
Sullivan halted the cart before a stand of bestseller books. “Your purpose?”
Reid gulped and nodded.
Reid felt Sullivan studying him like a beam of sunshine against his temple. He quickly picked up a romance book and skimmed it. “Want to buddy-read this book?” He waggled his eyes. “Or I could read it to you if you prefer.”
Sullivan readjusted his grip on the cart, frowning. “A book about a woman smothering an airbrushed man?”