My Fake Fling

“There’s the couple that saved him,” he said, pointing at an older couple that had just come back from the lounge area.

“I’m going to thank them,” I said and jumped up. I approached the couple. “Hello, my name is Thea. You guys helped my friend, Reese.”

“Thea,” the man said. “We know who you are.”

“You do?” I asked with confusion.

“We adopted our little Millie from you about four years ago,” the woman said.

“Oh! You know the shelter!”

“We do,” the man said. “How is your friend?”

“Thankfully, he was blessed with a hard head,” I said. “He’s going to be fine. The nurse is cleaning up the cut over his eye right now. Thank you so much for stopping the attack. You’re very brave.”

“We’ve lived there for fifty years,” the man said. “We’re so tired of what’s happening. We were on our way home when Peggy saw your friend go down. We had to do something.”

“I’m so glad you did,” I said and had to choke back tears. “This could have ended very differently.”

“We were just on our way out,” Peggy said. “We wanted to make sure the young man was okay.”

“Can I get your names?” I asked. “Or a phone number? I know Reese is going to want to personally thank you. You saved his life. You put your lives at risk to save his. That’s a big deal.”

The woman reached into her little black purse and pulled out an old napkin. She scribbled their names and phone number on it and handed it to me. “We’re glad we were in the right place at the right time.”

“Me too,” I said. “Me too.”

“Take care,” the man said.

“Goodnight.”

After they left, I returned to my chair next to Rich. “Those are some good people,” I said. “They could have easily been jumped. It’s not like they are these big, strong people. They saw it happen and stepped in. They are my heroes.”

Reese walked out about fifteen minutes later. He was still handsome as hell with a rugged look about him now.

“How do you feel?” Rich asked him.

“Fine,” Reese said. “It isn’t a big deal.”

“Do you want to come back to my place?” he asked. “Should you be alone tonight?”

“I’m good,” Reese said. “I am ready to go home though.”

“I’ll get you there,” I quickly said. “Let’s go.”

Rich walked us to my car, said goodnight, and promised to check on Reese in the morning. Once in my car, I reached over to take his hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I’ve taken worse hits dumping the jet ski or tangling with my brothers. It looks worse than it is. I don’t have any broken ribs or broken anything. I’m good. Thank you for coming down here. And taking me home.”

“Of course,” I said.

His home was ridiculous. When I offered to take him home, I didn’t actually know where he lived. Rich had mentioned it in the past, but I could have never imagined. “Shit,” I said as I pulled around the driveway. “You’ve moved on up in the world, haven’t you?”

He chuckled before grabbing his ribs. “Come in. I’ll give you the two-dollar tour.”

“No. I’ll come in and get you settled, but to tour this house, we’re going to need hiking shoes and a backpack filled with water and snacks. You’re in no condition to do that.”

The massive Tudor mansion stretched out and up. It had to be three, maybe four stories high. Unlike his father’s mega mansion that I had been to a few times when we were together, Reese’s home was surrounded by green grass and trees. It looked homey and inviting.

“Sit,” I told him when we came to the first living room directly on the other side of the foyer. “Where’s the kitchen?”

“Hang a right,” he directed.

I walked through another area with a Baby Grand positioned in front of massive windows. I didn’t take the time to admire anything. I was on a mission to get the man ice. I walked into the kitchen and paused. “Holy shit,” I breathed.

It was like a restaurant kitchen filled with stainless steel and black. I reminded myself I was getting ice. Three refrigerators lined a wall. After more rummaging, I found some Ziploc bags. I filled them with ice and rushed back to my patient. He was stretched out on the couch with his eyes closed. My heart did a little flutter as I stared at the man. Even in this weakened state, he was still devastating.