The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (20 page)

“It was very nice to meet you,” she said. “I mean, it’s about time. I’ve heard so much about you from Whitney. And she was right, you are a total hottie.”
 

Reid raised an eyebrow and glanced at Whitney, who’d turned a very pretty shade of red. “Is that so?” He leaned against the doorjamb to the kitchen, no longer in a hurry to give them privacy. “What else did she say about me?” he teased. Whitney’s face flashed to a look that even he knew meant business. Fortunately, it was aimed at Kat. Reid took the hint. “Maybe tell me another time.” He gave both women a wink and left them alone. But he couldn’t forget the look on Whitney’s face, the face that couldn’t hide anything. Whatever it was, Reid definitely wanted to find out more about what exactly she might have said about him.

The second Reid was out of the room, I hurled a throw cushion in Kat’s direction as hard as I could, which wasn’t very hard and definitely didn’t have the desired effect, but it was the thought that counted and I’m pretty sure I got my point across.
 

She laughed and caught the pillow. “I’m not even going to bother asking what that was for,” she said, and joined me on the couch.

“You know damn well what that was for. What were you thinking?”

“What? Saying that you thought he was hot?” Kat tried for nonchalant even though she must have known I was ready to kill her. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kat gave me a sly smile and my annoyance with her melted. It was true, and she knew it. “So, what happened today?” She changed tacks. “I mean, besides what you told me this morning, which is more than enough to drop anyone to their knees. But what was with the text this afternoon? You okay?”

I sighed and leaned back against the couch. I could tell her all about what happened with William, but she’d totally freak out. She’d been hell bent against William and I together from the very beginning. Kat would totally lose it if I told her he’d asked me to marry him. But it’s not like I’d actually said yes, I reasoned with myself. I’d simply agreed to consider it. Considering a proposal was far different then accepting it. Far different.

I ran my fingers through my already tangled hair. I’d been going around in my head about it all afternoon and I still couldn’t muster up the excitement I knew I should have felt. I also knew that little detail was particularly telling, but it was easier to ignore it. At least for the moment. I dropped my hands and sat up, making the decision not to say anything. Not yet.
 

“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just everything with Grams. It’s getting to me.” It wasn’t really a lie. It was getting to me.
 

 
Kat scooted closer to me and grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry, Whit. I really am.”

The familiar pressure of tears built behind my eyes again but I blinked hard and nodded.
 

“What did your mother say? Has she seen Grams?”

Dammit. Mom. I couldn’t ignore her forever. “She doesn’t know.” I pulled my hand away and tried to smooth my hair. An exercise in futility. “About that…what are you doing tonight?” There was strength in numbers and as they say, misery loves company.

“I wish I could,” Kat said. “You know how much I love the Lusty Lady.” And I did. It was bizarre, but Kat loved the energy of the strip club and there were times in the past I actually thought she might start swinging on the pole herself. I tried to ignore it, but it did mean she was almost always a willing sidekick when I went to visit. “I have a client meeting,” she said, looking more than a little disappointed. “Do you have to go tonight?”

I considered the option of waiting for a day or two. But as much as I’d love to have ignored the problem forever, it wasn’t going away. “No, I should go tonight. I’ve put it off long enough. Grams waited months before telling me. It doesn’t feel right to keep it a secret from Mom.”

“Do you think your mom will visit her?”

Kat always had an uncanny ability to ask the question I couldn’t answer. I shrugged and said, “All I can do is ask, right? I mean, it’s Grams.”

Kat arched her eyebrow. “It’s Patty.”

“True.”

“Maybe you can set it up so they have to see each other,” Kat mused. “Like a dinner.”

“Ha! Like that would happen.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” A chirping noise came from Kat’s pocket and she pulled her iPhone out and glanced at the screen. “I gotta go, Whit.”

When she got up, I followed her like a puppy and trailed her to the door. “Oh, no. You can’t go before you help me with a plan. Not fair.”
 

“Whit. I gave you a plan.” She gave me a dazzling smile and blew me a kiss. “I told you, do dinner.” And with a quick wave, she was gone.
 

I stared at the door for a second after she left. Kat might be right. Maybe trying to get them all in the same room with a dinner party was the best way. There was a good chance Mom wouldn’t be very eager to visit, even if Grams was dying. I knew they loved each other. Well, I assumed they loved each other. But there was so much history between them sometimes they had a hard time showing it. “Stubborn women,” I muttered to myself.
 

“They are, it’s true.” I whirled around at the sound of Reid’s voice. “Who specifically are we talking about?” he asked with a grin.

“Certainly not me. I’m the least stubborn person I know. It’s all the other women in my life. And that includes my traitor best friend who would rather go out with some celebrity client than help me out tonight.”

Reid flipped the tea towel he’d been holding over his shoulder, giving him the look of one of those television chefs. I wondered if I gave him a basket of mystery ingredients if he could whip up a culinary creation. “She said something about that,” he said. “Is she some sort of agent to the stars?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s exactly what she is. But please don’t tell me you’re one of those fame monger types.”

“Fame monger?”

“You know what I mean.” I tried not to look at him because there was something about his smile that drew me in and I had a feeling that if I looked at him directly, I might never look away. “The type of person who just wants to be famous or short of that, be around someone who is famous. A fame monger.”

He pulled the towel off his shoulder again and slid it through his hands. There was something oddly sensual about the action that made me blush and turn away. “Well, I’ll admit,” he said, “I’d love to be a famous songwriter, but I’m definitely not a ‘fame monger.’” He held up his fingers in air quotes. “Don’t worry. I think celebrities are almost all insecure with childhood issues.”

“Childhood issues?”

“Yup. They almost always have something they can blame on the way Dad worked too much or how Mom buttered their bread the wrong way. I have no interest in it.”

I crossed my arms and looked at him closely for the first time. “But you do want to be famous?”

“Correction.” He paused and held up a finger. “I want my songs to be famous. There’s a difference.” Reid stared at me for a minute. The connection with his eyes was intense and I couldn’t make myself look away. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I think you have something. It could be a beautiful song,” he said.
 

It took me a moment to register what he said. A moment in which I was able to look away long enough to refocus. “What did you say? What could be a beautiful song?”
 

“Your poetry, Whitney. It’s…it’s…well, it’s the truth.” He paused and met my gaze. His eyes bored into me and for a minute, the world beyond was quiet. “Whitney, there’s something about what you write. How you pour your soul into every word. It’s just…well, it’s raw. Your words are the raw truth.” There was a hold in his eyes and I felt something inside spark and burn as I held his stare.
 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I finally managed to get out the words. My mind spun and I tried to focus on what he was saying.
 

“Your poems.”

“My what?”

“Your poetry.” Reid smiled and I softened a little. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around what he was saying. My poetry? What?
 

“I don’t understand?” I said after a moment. “You read my poems?”

“You said I could.” The concern that filled his eyes took my breath away for a moment.
 

“I know,” I said quickly. “I did. It’s fine. But…I didn’t think you’d actually read them,” I admitted. “They’re not even really poems, they’re more…just rambling.”

“That’s poetry.” Reid took a few steps, closing the distance between us. He reached out and I let him take my hand. I let his warmth fill me. “And, of course I was going to read them,” he said. “You trusted me with your words. Your spirit.” Something in his voice commanded me to hold his gaze, despite the intensity in his eyes. “That’s huge, Whitney.”

I nodded. It was a big deal, even if I didn’t want to admit it. I’d never let anyone read my journals before. I couldn’t even really explain why I’d let Reid read them so freely. But some things didn’t need to be explained, they just needed to be.
 

“It is,” he said again. Reid squeezed my hand and in the same moment, pulled me close. His other arm wrapped around my back and held me so close I thought I might lose a breath. He didn’t say anything, just gazed into my eyes with an intimacy I didn’t think was possible with a simple look. “Whitney,” he whispered my name.
 

I nodded, but didn’t speak. Our hearts beat together, filling the space between us with an intensity I couldn’t explain and didn’t want to end.
 

“Whitney,” he said again, this time his voice barely a breath.
 

“Yes.”
 

Reid took a breath, and let it out slowly. His lips were so close to mine I could feel the breath as he exhaled, taking his time before he said, “Dinner’s ready.”

***

By the time the dinner dishes were cleaned up, I’d forgotten about the intense moment we’d had earlier, and Reid and I had fallen back into the easy rhythm of being roommates.
 

“So,” I said, while stacking the last plate in the dishwasher. “I need to visit my mom.”

“At the strip club?”
 

I didn’t want him to be like every other male I knew and be enthusiastic about it. I risked a glance at him, but he was still scrubbing a pan.
 

“Yes,” I said slowly, casually. “At the strip club.”

“Cool. When?”

“Tonight. Wanna go?” I paused, waiting for the usual scrambling to jump in the car and ride shotgun to the building where women would be taking off their clothes. When he didn’t respond right away, I froze, dish in hand and stared at him.
 

“What?” he asked when he caught me staring.
 

“Nothing.” I shook it off and finished loading the dishwasher.
 

“No,” Reid said. “It’s not nothing.” He finished the pan and stuck it in the drying rack. “You were waiting for me to get all excited and start drooling about it, weren’t you?”

I wouldn’t meet his eyes and instead focused on unwrapping the dishwasher tab. “No. That’s stupid.”
 

“Ha!”
 

“Fine.” I tossed the tab into the machine and looked him square in the eyes. “I’m waiting for you to tell me how much you want to come with me and how you want to support me in a visit to my mother when we both know you just want to be in a strip club and stare at a bunch of naked women. And if I’m really lucky, you’ll even tell me you were doing her a favor by supporting her place of employment when I find you stuffing money into some poor girl’s g-string.”
 

Reid took a step back and leaned against the counter. I couldn’t tell if he was trying not to laugh at me or if he was just confused by my outburst. “Are you done?”

I nodded.
 

“I don’t want to go to a strip club,” he said. My heart deflated a little bit but I tried not to let him see how much I would have liked him to keep me company. “But…” I perked up. “I’ll go. I’d like to.”
 

I looked up and met his blue eyes. I couldn’t read anything there that wasn’t genuine and honest. “I want to,” he said. “But not because I want to stare at naked women or stuff money into anybody's g-string.” He took a breath and looked me straight in the eyes. “I want to go, for you.”
 

I didn’t even try to hide the smile that bloomed across my face. I’d made the journey to the Lusty Lady alone more times than I could count. But somehow, knowing Reid would be with me, made me unreasonably happy.
 

Chapter 10

“Are you going to pick a radio station?” Reid asked after the fourth time Whitney changed the station, this time landing on Top Forty. “I’m good with this,” he said quickly.

“You like Kesha?”
 

It took Reid a moment to realize she was talking about the singer screaming on the radio. “Um, yes,” he said. “I totally like Kesha.”
 

“Right.” Whitney dragged out the word and reached forward to twist the dial again, this time settling on a classic rock station. Before she could change her mind, Reid reached out and covered her hand with his own.
 

“Leave it,” he said. “It’s fine.”

She pulled back and sat on her hands but didn’t say anything, so Reid returned his focus to the road in front of him. Whitney had given him the address of the Lusty Lady before they left the house so he could input it in his GPS. It occurred to him that she could have given him instructions, but she seemed so jittery and distracted since they got in the car that he thought it might be easier to rely on technology.
 

“Sorry,” she said after a moment. “I’m just…”

“Nervous?” He glanced over at her to see she was giving him a strange look. “What’s going on, Whitney? We’re just going to see your mom, right? I mean, I know what she does for a living so you can’t be nervous about that, right?” She shook her head, but he didn’t believe her. “Is there something else I should know? Some sort of situation between the two of you?”