Reed looks over in our direction and locks eyes with me. His eyes soften at the corners, and a small smile spreads over his lips. Then he notices Bea, and his face closes off, darkening as quickly as a cloud passing in front of the sun.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Bea whispers.
“Graham’s looking for you,” I say, which causes her to plaster a fake smile on her face and give him a small wave.
My eyes stay on Reed. His jaw is tense. He looks like he’s only just managing not to fly off his chair and storm through the crowd toward us.
“Does he always fuck from behind? Barely kiss you?”
My eyes widen, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing, so I keep them firmly trained in Reed’s direction.
“I have no idea what you’re talk—”
“How about using your name in bed? Or letting you go on top.” Bea lets out a small huff of victory as I stiffen next to her. “Reed’s got issues that only people who’ve known him a long time will understand. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“What do you even want?” I snap, tearing my eyes away from Reed’s and to the empty space beside me. I look through the crowd, but Bea is already making her way over to Graham as he exits the stage now that the session is over.
What the hell does she mean, issues?Reed kisses me all the time, and we have had sex in all sorts of positions. He loves being on top of me. It’s not like he has a weird eye contact thing. He gets as close as he possibly can to me. And the way he talks is so arousing and…
Angel.
Has he ever called me Harley during sex? I can’t be sure, but I don’t think he has. But he calls me Harley or Harls all the time during the day when he’s cuddling me and kissing me. He’s attentive and thoughtful. He brought me a latte to work again yesterday morning after the sloth mug incident. And he even bought one of those re-usable eco-friendly cups to put it in from the coffee place. He told me I could enjoy it without the worry of any sloths being harmed from otherwise having to throw it away.
He’s thoughtful, and he’s funny, and he’s sweet with me.
He’s Reed.
Bea doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.
“Hey, Mrs. Walker.” Arms encircle my waist from behind and I turn inside them and gaze up at him, hugging him back.
Reed pulls me close to him and kisses me in a way that attracts a whistle and the bleep of a camera. We glance to the side as a member of the press gives us a wave. “Another one for tomorrow’s front page?”
Reed smirks and then plants his lips over mine again. My stomach flutters as he cups my face between his hands and lets out a soft groan, only loud enough for me to hear.
“Show pony.” I tut when he pulls back.
He smiles. “Stallion, Angel.”
I laugh as he drops his hand to my lower back and leads me toward where Stuart is waiting.
“What did Bea want?”
“To be Bea.” I shrug.
His voice drops, and there’s an unmistakable edge to it. “What did she say to you, Harley?”
“Just stuff about the past. Stupid stuff that meant nothing.”
“Harley?” There’s an undercurrent of carefully contained fury to his tone. A frisson of unease runs through me as I think about what Bea said.
“She was trying to make me anxious about us, that’s all. Saying it won’t last and insinuating I was just another blonde in a long line of flings. I don’t even know what she thinks she has to gain from saying things like that.”
“Nothing,” Reed states flatly. “She has nothing to gain.”
“I’ve never understood women who aren’t girl’s girls, you know? Ones who lie and cheat to get what they want. Step on other women to get ahead.”
“Women can be sharks, Harley. It’s not just men.” Reed flexes his hand against my back and dips his nose into my hair. “Fuck, I’m going to miss you this afternoon. Will you wait for me naked on the bed when I come home? Get yourself warmed up with your vibrator? Actually, don’t. Do not dare touch yourself until I get there… unless you’re going to film it for me.”