Tall, Tatted and Tempting (The Reed Brothers 1)

I look up at him, swallowing hard. “I liked it when you were in the bed with me,” I admit.

His eyes narrow and he looks closer at me than I think anyone ever has. But he doesn’t say anything else.

“I think I’m in like,” I admit softly. That’s probably the wrong thing to say. But I need to tell him. I didn’t just use him for a place to sleep. I genuinely could care about him if my situation was different. But it’s not. And I can’t.

He doesn’t understand the terminology, I think, because he looks confused. “What?” he asks.

“I think I’m in like,” I repeat. But he still looks just as confused.

He looks like he’s going to get Matthew to translate. I stop him by jerking on his arm. “I like you,” I say clearly. “That’s why I’m leaving. I wouldn’t be any good for you or for your brothers. I like you too much to stay.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he says.

Yeah, it’s ridiculous. But he doesn’t know where I come from. He doesn’t know how many people are looking for me and why. And when he does find out – I have no doubts that he will – he’ll hate me for not telling him everything up front.

“Have dinner with me?” he says, his brows shooting up. He looks hopeful, and that’s not what I want for him. He bends his knees so he can look into my face. “Dinner?” he repeats, like I might not have understood him. “A date,” he says. “Go on a date with me.”

I shake my head. I shouldn’t like him so much after such a short time, but I see possibilities there where before I had none. He makes me believe I could have a real connection with someone. Well, maybe if I was someone else. But I’m not. So I can’t.

“Thank you for letting me sleep here,” I say. “And do my laundry and take a shower. I really appreciate it. Will you tell your brothers thank you for me?”

His hand falls away from me, and I feel like someone just untethered my anchor and I’m going to float away. He nods. He walks back over to the table and sits down, and begins turning the pages of the newspaper. He’s not looking at me anymore and I feel the loss like someone chopped off my arm.

I let myself out and lean heavy against the wall outside his door. I can’t bring him into my life. It’s not good for him. Not for any of them. This is the way it has to be.

***

My ass is cold again, even though I’m wearing black leggings under my plaid mini skirt. It’s freezing in the subway, and I’m sitting on my bag to keep my butt off the cold concrete. But it’s still seeping into me. I have made forty-two dollars today, though, and it’s a good day. I must have looked utterly miserable, because people have been putting money in my case like I’m homeless. Well, I am, but it’s not like I’m holding a sign that says “I’m hungry.”

It’s a little after seven o’clock, and I’ve been here since I left Logan’s apartment. My hands are tired, and I can’t help but think to myself that I had better get moving. The after-work crowd has passed, and the drunks tend to come out after dark. So, I never feel safe in the subway when it starts to get late. I gather up my things and put my guitar away. I pocket the money I made today. It’s getting colder outside as fall settles on the city, and I don’t have a coat. So, I can either use the money I have to get a motel room, or I can go to the thrift store and try to find a used coat that I can use to keep warm as the weather changes. If I do that, I’ll be sleeping in the shelter again, provided that they have room.

So, it’s coat, shelter, and back to the subway for me tomorrow.

Someone calls my name as I walk up the steps of the tunnel and I turn to find Bone standing by the lamppost. “How’s it going, Kit?” he asks. His eyes rake down my body, and my insides revolt.

“Fine,” I say quickly. “Did you need something?”

He shakes his head, biting his lips together. “You have somewhere to stay tonight?” he asks.

He asks me this every time he sees me, like he’s going to catch me at a vulnerable moment and I’ll take him up on whatever he’s offering. I don’t even know what he’s offering, but I know it won’t do me any good. “I do, but thanks for asking.”

“Any time, Kit,” he says. He turns and walks away, his arm around some girl’s shoulders. She looks strung out. And I’d be willing to bet that’s how he likes them.

I walk through the city, wandering toward the shelter. I know it’s right around the corner from where Logan works. I can’t help but walk by there. The lights are on inside and there are still people walking around. I slow down, hoping I can get a look at him. I just want to see him. I know he probably hates me. But I want to see that he’s walking around, breathing and maybe even laughing.

The neon sign over the building says Reed’s. Makes me wonder if that’s their last name. Paul walks to the door and lifts a hand at me without opening it. He tilts his head and looks at me. A bit too closely. He pushes the door open and speaks through the crack. “Are you coming in?”

I shake my head. “I shouldn’t.”

He nods. “You shouldn’t. But you are.” He motions me forward. “He’s in the back.”

It’s like my feet have a mind of their own. I walk toward the back of the store, and the girl at the front desk shoots me a heated glance. I ignore her. There’s a curtain in the back of the shop, and I’m guessing that’s where he is. I push it slowly to the side. He can’t hear me and he’s facing away. But there’s a woman on the table who’s naked from the waist up. He’s standing in front of her with his arm wrapped around her; his hand is busy around her right breast.