His album wasn’t even ready yet—he just dropped his single at midnight!
So why are you holding this note and a CD in your hand?! Who else would it be from?
There was no way.
The paper crinkled in my hand as I clutched my fist tightly. My eyes wandered over to the shiny CD as it laid so peacefully on top of the black felt casing. I shrugged, knowing the only way to know if Reid had truly sent this to me was to pop the thing right into the CD player and press play.
If his voice filtered throughout my apartment, song for song, then I’d know it was him.
If some voice—say, Jigsaw from the Saw movies—sounded through, then I’d know someone was messing with me.
Who would even know to do this?
I thought for a moment, knowing very well that next to no one knew I was alone with Reid King all summer. But then again, tabloids had a way of finding shit out, so who truly knew?
My fingers tingled as I fiddled with my old CD player. I plopped the CD inside and closed the lid, my pointer finger hovering over the play button.
I stood still, trying to even my breath as I debated on whether I wanted to go down this path.
Reid King and me?
That was a far-fetched dream.
Not real.
Then, I thought of how his body moved over mine on his living room floor with the shadows of our bodies moving together on the wall. I remembered how his soft lips nipped at mine as I came undone under his mercy.
It was real.
The most real thing I’d ever felt in my life.
I smashed my finger onto the play button and stepped back, covering my ears for a moment before I slowly lowered my hands.
His voice sounded throughout my room with such grace that I had to hold on to the table in front of me. My hand flew to my mouth as the words left his.
Didn’t anyone tell you that I was a beast?
The beast locked in thousand-pound silver, at the very least.
Yet, here you are, Brooklyn,
Unhinging the cage with your innocence.
How can someone be so broken? How can someone be this jaded?
Oh, Brooklyn… how can you be so sweet?
Oh, Brooklyn… you’re pulling me to my feet.
I tried to stop it before it began.
But now, oh, Brooklyn… I can’t stop it now.
You crawled under my skin
Scratching, erasing, healing,
I wasn’t going to let you in.