I smile at him in return. “Yeah, I’m sure it will all blow over,” I say weakly. But I’m not entirely sure. Because I know for a fact that in my family, had this happened, no one would ever be laughing about it.
Hoping Mason is right and this is just a little blip, I snag my coat out of the closet and head outside to find Dylan, leaving the chaos behind us.
Chapter 23
DYLAN
“Doyouwanttostop and grab dinner somewhere?” Reed asks a few minutes into our drive home. I’ve been quiet, doing my relaxation exercises to hopefully convince my brain to quiet down. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still starving. You must be hungry too.”
He’s right; I am hungry. I’m exhausted and wrung out, and my brain feels like a chaotic mess, but I know getting food into my system should help me get back on track. At least it will remove hunger as a stressor.
“Okay,” I say cautiously. “Let’s stop, but I’ll need to head straight home after we eat. I am fucking done.”
Reaching over the console between us, Reed puts his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. Normally—or at least for the past few days we’ve spent together—I get a shot of happy endorphins whenever Reed touches me. But right now, I’m so overstimulated all I want is for him to take his goddamn hand off my goddamn leg and leave me the fuck alone.
Somewhere deep in my is a little part that’s frantically sending warning signals, flashing lights, and sirens, all telling me that the system overload is imminent, but I ignore them, wanting so much to just get through this dinner so this evening can be over and I can fall into my bed and sleep.
Fortunately, there’s a little pub close to my parents’ place that looks like it’s open even though it’s Thanksgiving.
Reed places a gentle hand on my back as we get to the door, causing me to stiffen. Struggling to relax my muscles, I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Being so preoccupied, I forget to ask for seating in the quietest part of the restaurant, and as the hostess guides us to a table, I simply don’t have the mental bandwidth to ask for a different table. This section is a little louder than I’d like, but it’s not too bad. I’m pretty sure I can handle it.
After settling into our seats, a smile plays at the corner of Reed’s mouth, but I am way too tired to try to figure out what it means. “What?” I snap.
Reed has only seen my best side so far. I’ve been taking really good care of myself almost since we met, the day Grace’s baby was born. I’m eating well, exercising, and getting lots of sleep. On top of that, all the happy endorphins coursing through my body since that first time we kissed have probably been helping to keep me balanced. Tonight, everything feels like it’s too much. But I just have to get through this quick dinner, and then I’m home free. It’ll be fine.
“Sorry,” I say when he doesn’t speak for a few seconds. “I’m a little cranky. That whole scene was… a lot.”
“Yeah, it was,” he says carefully. “Mason stopped me on my way out and said everyone will probably be laughing over this soon though.”
I shrug listlessly. “Maybe.” I’m so fucking tapped out that even talking about tonight’s events is way too much.
“I guess there’s always next year, right?” Reed says, and even through the chaos that’s clogging my brain, I feel a spark of happiness light up inside me at his words. Planning for next year means he’s thinking this relationship will last, right? Unfortunately, that happy feeling is chased out almost immediately by the turmoil that’s slowly filling my head.
The server comes back with our beers, and we place our orders. I know a big juicy burger may not be the healthiest thing on the menu, but it’s comfort food, and I’m bloody well going for it. Rolling my shoulders back, I try to focus on the bitter, hoppy taste of the beer, which is one of my favorites.
We don’t talk much as we wait for our dinners. I’m too overcooked for polite conversation, and Reed seems fine with the silence between us. It’s so nice to be with someone who doesn’t have the constant need to fill every last second with chatter and mindless small talk.
This bar is like any other. Sports memorabilia and pictures all over the walls that most people find interesting, but it all looks busy and overwhelming to me. Taking another drink, I hope silently the group of douchey-looking hipster guys the hostess just seated next to us isn’t too loud.
Meeting my eye for a second, Reed says, “Hey, Dyl, I’m sorry. I’m just going to sneak outside for a quick smoke while we’re waiting. I’m stressed and tired too.” He gets up and checks his pocket, making sure he’s got his cigarettes.
“Smoking is really stupid,” I say in a whiny tone. Reed’s eyes widen as he freezes in place, his jacket half-on. “It’s gross, and it makes you stink. You should quit. It’s disgusting. It’s going to give you cancer one day. If you care about such things,” I spit out and then turn back to my drink.
The same part of my brain that’s trying to send out warning signals also tries to remind me that I’m the last person in the world who should be judging anyone for a habit like smoking. Reed smokes to help cope with stress, the same reason I tear paper up into tiny pieces, fiddle with Rubik’s cubes, or gnaw on pen caps. It’s a way to self-soothe, and I know that better than almost anyone.
Reed is motionless for a moment before turning and walking out the back door of the pub without a word.
Clenching my teeth, I try to re-regulate by closing my eyes and counting backward from ten, but my filter is just gone. Anger surges through me like fire.
If I was smart, I’d get up, find our server, and change our orders to takeout so we can get the hell out of here, but I don’t.
Instead, I focus on being pissed at Reed for smoking, pissed at my family for ruining the first time I’ve ever brought someone home for a holiday, and pissed at myself that this kind of thing throws me off my game so badly. Stupid fucking autism.
Smiling politely, the server sets our plates on the table and refills the water glasses. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.” The second I bite into my burger, I realize they’ve screwed up. This is definitely not what I ordered.