There was a single message notification.
Madison, probably. She was the only person he expected to hear from, and that was because he’d texted her on the way back from the training center, a knee-jerk reaction to that damn panic attack. One he clearly hadn’t thought through well. Even as he’d been typing it, Reese knew it was wrong, but his frustrations and embarrassment had pushed him to do it anyway.
Trepidation filled him, but he tapped the screen to pull up the message. Sure enough. Madison had accepted his offer of dinner.
With a sigh, Reese sat down on the edge of the bed. What the fuck was wrong with him? What the hell had made him text her? He had absolutely nothing to say to Madison, knew that having dinner with her would result in mixed signals, and absolutely nothing that would help him resolve his own issues.
For the past few months, ever since Madison had texted him the first time, Reese had been on the fence about talking to her. It wasn’t like he was looking for closure. They’d gone their separate ways after Reese had been stupid enough to propose to a woman he hadn’t really been in love with. He suspected she had turned him down because she knew that, but they’d never bothered to have a conversation about it. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since, other than the continuing chat thread. But those exchanges had been short and uneventful, exactly the way Reese had intended.
Another heavy sigh escaped as Reese stood, carrying the towel back to the bathroom and tossing it on the sink. He glanced at his image in the mirror, let his eyes slide over his bare chest, his abdomen. He paused briefly on the old scars he’d acquired over the years, most of them during his time as a POW. While they were familiar … while he could remember each and every one of them with vivid and painful clarity, Reese wasn’t sure he recognized anything else about the man staring back at him. He certainly wasn’t the same man he’d been a year ago, back when he’d met Brantley Walker and his entire life had changed.
And he’d be damned if that wasn’t the problem. The man he’d been … where the fuck had he gone? How the hell had he changed so drastically in such a short period of time? Those were just some of the many questions he’d been pondering for months now. The ones that were weighing him down, making him crazy, keeping him up at night.
Reese had gone from being single, dating women, and living alone. Sure, his apartment had been shitty and small, but it’d been his. He’d had a decent job managing Walker Demolition, a ton of friends who he’d wanted to spend time with. Now he was in a relationship with a man, living with that man, not to mention working with him, too. He had a phenomenal job with the Off the Books Task Force, plus a dog he’d come to love more than anything. And yeah, he still had a ton of friends, but the only person he cared to spend time with was Brantley.
Looking at it rationally, Reese didn’t see a problem, but something felt off. Something felt … different. Too different. As though he was missing something, but he didn’t know what.
Still standing at the mirror, he took a moment to run a comb over his hair. It was a little longer on top than he liked, but he hadn’t bothered to grab the clippers before they left, so he was stuck with it.
Reese ditched the towel around his hips, snagged a pair of boxer briefs. He pulled them on, then retrieved jeans and a T-shirt from the tiny closet. Socks and boots came next. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his cell phone from the dresser, picked up Brantley’s truck keys. Even holding them made him feel guilty about where he was about to go, who he was about to see. But he was committed, and Reese wasn’t going to back down now. This was the path he’d chosen, and he needed to follow through so he could find the answers he was so desperately searching for.
He snagged the key card from the dresser, then he left. He opted for the elevator rather than march down the long, narrow hall to the stairs. The ride down took all of a second, then he was nodding at the night clerk on his way past the check-in desk and out into the twilight.
No sooner did he step outside than he saw Brantley strolling toward him.
“Hey,” Reese greeted, realizing even his voice sounded guilty.
Brantley’s eyes narrowed on him, slid down to his boots then back to his face. “Goin’ somewhere?”
Reese cut a quick glance at the truck. “I … uh …” He met Brantley’s gaze. “Yeah, goin’ out for a bit. Need to clear my head.”
“Want me to go with you?”
Reese turned away, unable to look at him when he lied. “Nah. I need some time to think.”
The lack of response told him more than he cared to know. When Brantley Walker didn’t have a comeback, didn’t engage in an argument, it meant he was retreating.
What sucked was that Reese was making him, and he was too confused at the moment to care.
“Later,” Reese muttered as he strolled over to Brantley’s truck.
Without looking back, Reese climbed in, shoved the key in the ignition, and turned the engine over. He was backing out when he looked up again, saw Brantley still staring after him. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve sworn that was pain etched on Brantley’s face.
Too late now. He was committed.
*
Brantley absolutely detested the tightness he felt in his chest as he watched Reese drive away in his truck. He could’ve been a dick about it, demanded the guy take an Uber, but he hadn’t. He couldn’t.
What hurt the most was the fact he’d given Reese an opportunity to come clean, and he’d lied to his face. Needed to clear his head? Not likely. Certainly not while he was on a date with Madison Adorite.
Even thinking her name had shards of pain lancing his heart, which only pissed Brantley off. He rubbed at his temples, feeling the first warning signs of an oncoming headache.
When his truck disappeared around the corner, Brantley marched into the hotel, through the lobby, up the stairs. By the time he reached the room, he was seething. Still, he managed to slide his key card into the slot, unlocked the door. He pulled out his phone as he headed for the closet.
The first thing he did was pull up his Uber app to get a car to the airport. Once that was set up, he placed a call to JJ, popping the pain medicine for his headache and downing it without water.
“Hey, boss man,” she greeted with a smile in her voice.
“Hey. Can you keep an eye on Tesha tonight?” he asked, not quite sure why he was so concerned with Reese’s dog’s well-being.
“Of course. Everything cool?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “Reese went out to take care of a couple of things. You can touch base with him in the mornin’.”
“Brantley, what’s wrong?”
He should’ve known JJ would hear the anger and frustration in his underlying tone.
“Nothin’. Just a headache, but I’m good. Check with Reese in the mornin’, would ya?”
“Why him? Why not you?” she countered.
“Just do it, would ya?” he snapped.
“Of course,” JJ said slowly. “Sure.”
He didn’t bother with more pleasantries, disconnecting the call and shoving his phone in his pocket.
It pained him that he was keeping things from JJ. Being that they’d been friends since childhood, he knew she would’ve been there for him, allowed him to bounce his frustrations off her. Unfortunately, he wasn’t even sure what to say the problem was, so he didn’t see the point in bothering her with it.