That Secret Crush Page 9

  “But it’s so cute. You got matching dish towels.”

  “I liked the stripes,” he answers nonchalantly while pouring us each a glass of wine.

  He’s trying not to make it a big deal, and I shouldn’t either, but this is a side of Reid that’s still so new—and almost as surprising as his dirty side. This is his sweet side, the same man who came out and comforted me on the anniversary of the day my dad died.

  I’m so used to his sarcastic wit and joking jabs that I need to realize there’s more to Reid than just the friend I grew up with; there’s a depth that I’m going to guess most people don’t know about.

  “It looks good in here,” I say before taking a bite of my pizza.

  He glances up from his pizza and smiles. “Thanks, Eve.”

  And just like that, my heart squeezes in my chest. Even though I like the boy I grew up with, and I love teasing and joking with him, there is something about this new, sensitive man that I’m growing to like even more.

  After another bite, I say, “When you invited me over for dinner, I almost expected you to make me some kind of gourmet meal.”

  A mozzarella string drips from his mouth. He slurps it up. “I don’t cook anymore. You know that.”

  I tilt my head to the side, trying to understand him better. “You mean, you don’t cook at all?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  “No need. I either eat at my parents’, eat out, or eat something that’s premade. And leftovers from my parents usually last me awhile, too, since they like to make meals for what seems like the entire town.”

  “But cooking was your life.”

  “And it’s not anymore, so let’s not start out the evening with a fight, okay?”

  “I wasn’t fighting with you, but if you want to fight, we can fight.”

  He shakes his head and smirks. “I’d rather not, unless it’s followed by makeup sex. Then put on your gloves, Roberts; we’re duking it out.” He throws a few cute little jabs in my direction.

  “It always comes back to sex with you, doesn’t it?”

  “For all guys, babe, all guys.” He winks.

  “Babe?” I ask, surprised at how effortlessly the word fell from his lips.

  “Yeah, babe. Have a problem with that?”

  “Seems like you’re moving pretty fast. What’s going to happen next week? Are you going to get down on one knee and propose?”

  “No, but I’m going to go down on one knee, throw your leg over my shoulder, and eat you out.”

  I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair. “Seriously, try to go five minutes without talking about sex.”

  “Impossible.”

  “You’re not even going to try?”

  “Nope.” He smiles broadly and takes a brief sip of wine. And oh my, seeing Reid drink wine is sexy, the way he quickly takes a whiff of it, swirls his glass—he doesn’t just drink it; he appreciates it. “So how was your day? Marv give you any trouble?”

  “No, he was good. Tipped well, left at a decent hour, and I didn’t have to shove him out with a broom. It was a win. What about you?”

  He plucks a pepperoni from the pizza and pops it in his mouth. “Nothing too special, just the normal shit.” He stares at me for a few moments and then says, “My family knows.”

  “As in . . .”

  “As in they know.”

  My body immediately heats up, and I don’t know if it’s from nerves, embarrassment, or anger. Maybe all three. The last thing I need right now is the Knightly family knowing that I’m doing it with their son.

  Plus when the Knightlys know, the whole town soon finds out.

  “How? Why? I thought we weren’t telling people.”

  “Yeah, about that.” He looks out the window to the harbor. “I might have told Brig.”

  “Brig?” I shout. “Why on earth would you tell Brig? Out of all of your siblings, you told Brig? Rogan would have been your best bet. He doesn’t care about shit like this. Why on earth would you tell Brig? He’s almost as big a gossip as Franklin.” I’m hysterical—I can hear it in my voice—but the last thing I need is for someone to tell Eric and for him to finally come back to Port Snow . . . angrily.

  “I don’t know, maybe because I’m closest to him,” Reid answers, irritation edging into his voice. “He just told my siblings. I went down to the garage the other day and threatened his life if he told anyone. He won’t say anything, so don’t worry, princess, your secret is safe.”

  “Whoa.” I push back from the table. “Excuse me, but I thought this was going to stay just between us for a bit. Sorry if I’m upset about four people already knowing. And since Ren and Harper are attached to your family, I’m going to guess they already know too.”

  “What if they do?”

  “Are you kidding me? Reid, it would be nice to know that I could date you without the entire town watching us. It’s been a week, and I haven’t even seen you that much. This is supposed to be our first date, and instead of having a nice time, we’re fighting.”

  “Because you’re getting defensive. What’s really going on? Are you embarrassed of dating me?”

  What is happening right now? He can’t possibly be serious.

  “Why on earth would I be embarrassed?”

  He waves at our surroundings. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not what you probably expected when it comes to a boyfriend? A poor fisherman who lives on a houseboat, scores leftovers from his parents, and sells fudge to rabid tourists.”

  Completely caught off guard, I jump up from my chair and head to the door. A week. It’s been a week, and we’re already at each other’s throats. Maybe this was a terrible idea. I knew Reid had a temper, I knew losing the restaurant was a blow to his self-esteem, but him turning that all on me is not fair.

  “Where are you going?” He stands as well and strides across the room, beating me to the door. I reach for the handle, but he presses his palm against the wood to stop me.

  “Reid, I suggest you step away and let me out.”

  “No.”

  I look up at his determined face, and a cold anger grips me with each second that passes. Fine, I decide. If he wants to talk about this, then we’re gonna talk about it.

  I fold my arms over my chest and face him. “Do you really think I care about what you do or where you live? I’ve known you forever, Reid. Your life isn’t a mystery to me. It’s not like I’m just starting to get to know you.” I poke his chest. “I know you. So it’s insulting for you to accuse me of being embarrassed of you. I’m not embarrassed. I just wanted this to be between us for a bit before we have to start dodging all the town gossip. I wanted time with just you.”

  His face softens, and he lets out a long breath before pushing both hands through his hair. On an exhale, he mutters, “Fuck,” and then pulls me into his chest, his strong arms spreading warmth through my body. “I’m sorry, Eve. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I start to thaw from our fight. “I’m not good at this shit. I’m sorry.”

  At least he’s good at apologizing.

  I cling to him. “Please don’t accuse me of thinking poorly of you again. It’s hurtful. My opinion of you is so much higher than you could even fathom, and it has nothing to do with what you do or where you live but everything to do with the heart that beats inside your chest.”

  “Damn, Eve, that’s some serious talk.” He chuckles but then pulls me in tighter and lifts my chin so he can press a sweet kiss against my lips. “Thanks, babe.”

  “Back to babe, huh?”

  “Yeah, and since we just had a fight, you know what that means, right?” He raises his eyebrows, and I’m about to roll my eyes when he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me up the narrow staircase to his bedroom loft.

  He tosses me on the mattress and reaches behind him to pull his shirt up and over his head. The fabric drops to the floor, and my eyes sweep over his sculpted body, taking in every glorious inch, every c
orded muscle, and every ripple in his abdomen.

  Maybe he’s right.

  Maybe we really should fight more.

  “I like that you don’t wax your chest.” I run my fingers through the trimmed hair scattered over his brawny pecs. It’s minimal, the perfect amount, and super sexy, topping off the masculine appeal he seems to carry so easily.

  “Don’t have time for it. Do you know who does?”

  “Brig.” I don’t even have to consider my answer. I think that deep down inside, Brig considers himself a hero in a romance novel and attempts to embody that role every chance he gets—and waxing his chest is just one of the necessary tasks in achieving his Fabio aspirations.

  “Yup,” Reid answers, his hand plastered against my ass, keeping our naked bodies as close together as possible.

  Reid Knightly has always been devastatingly handsome. From his blue eyes to the swagger in his step to the curve of his jaw, he’s never failed to make my heart skip a beat whenever he stepped into a room.

  But Reid Knightly in the bedroom takes it to a whole new level. The dirty talk, his naked body . . . his penis. God, just thinking about it makes my stomach flip with excitement. He commands control, handling me with care but also with an edge of possession, and when he sinks into me, his face shifts to pure bliss. It’s beyond fulfilling, knowing I can take down such a strong man.

  “Brig is something special.”

  “He lives in another world.” Reid laughs. “I always wonder what it would be like to live his life, live in his head. He’s a smart motherfucker and has built an amazing company, and I think a lot of it has to do with the land he lives in.”

  “The land?”

  “He doesn’t worry about real things. It’s like he lives in a land where unicorns deliver mail and cupcakes grow on trees. The real world is tinted by the rose-colored glasses he seems to wear all the time. The only true worry he has is whether he’s going to die alone. He’s told me he’s had nightmares about it.”

  I giggle. Oh, poor Brig. “That’s a valid concern. But hey, if Griffin and Rogan can break the curse, there’s hope for you two.”

  “Jesus,” he mutters. “Can we not talk about that shit?”

  “Come on, do you really think you’re cursed?”

  He’s silent for a second, just the smooth sound of his breathing filling the calm as his hand slowly strokes my skin. I’m surprised he even has to think about it.

  “Do you know that happened the same night I found out about the restaurant?”

  “When what happened? The curse?”

  He nods. “Yeah. Right after, actually. We were at a bar, getting pretzels, still kind of reeling over the encounter.” He presses a kiss to my head. “It was weird, Eve. I still don’t know what to make of the whole thing. We were drunk, so the incident feels a little fuzzy to begin with, at least the before part, but I still can’t get over the look in that lady’s eyes. It felt so real in that moment, like something was really shifting in our lives.”

  “And what about after?”

  “We blew it off. Yeah, it was some coincidental timing with the wind and all that shit, but who really wants to believe in a curse? At least I tried to not believe in it.”

  “So you think you have a love curse?” I ask.

  “No.” The tension in my shoulders eases at his words. Though I don’t believe in curses, I still don’t want to be dating a man who believes his love life is doomed. That’s just setting up our entire relationship for failure. “But I do believe I’m cursed,” he adds.

  Okay, wasn’t expecting that.

  “What do you mean?”

  Staring up at the ceiling, he places the hand that’s not gripping me behind his head and props himself up a bit. I hold on tight as he shifts and gets comfortable. “It was right after we ran into that lady that Eric called me. And that’s when I lost everything. I’ve tried telling myself the two are unrelated, but fuck”—he blows out a long breath of air—“it just feels like ever since that night, I’ve been stuck in a weird sort of purgatory.”

  “How so?” I ask, not wanting to push too much but also taking advantage of this moment, this rare glimpse of Reid dropping all the sarcasm and actually opening up.

  “All my siblings seem to have something going for them. Jen has her amazing family, and even though she complains about her hellion children, I know they’re her life and everything she’s ever wanted. Griff has the Lobster Landing now and his volunteering. He’s in heaven, so add Ren to that, and his life is made. Rogue practically owns Port Snow. He’s built a small empire and has refurbished the rundown houses in town, bringing out their beauty again. And then Brig, who’s the baby of the family and the one who isn’t supposed to have his shit together, is fucking thriving. He’s built a business the town desperately needed and then branched out from there with restoring cars, renting out old classics to tourists, and even turning his garage into an event space. Everyone has their shit together but me.”

  “You opened a restaurant at twenty-three, Reid.”

  “Yeah, and I failed, horribly. I failed so fucking badly that I had to come crawling back home. And on top of that, I lost my best friend, I’m stuck trapping lobsters every goddamn day of my life just to make ends meet, and I’m forced to work at the family business where I despise each and every shift. I’m fucking miserable, Eve, and I have nothing to show for all the hard work I put in when I was younger. All the things I missed—the dances, the football games, the dates I could have gone on—I pushed everything aside to chase a dream I ended up massively failing at.”

  I bite my bottom lip, really unsure of what to say. How do you tell someone they aren’t worthless when that’s what they truly believe? How do you tell someone that failing doesn’t mean you quit, that failing is just a stepping stone to achieving what you want in life?

  I know I could easily say all of that to Reid, but he wouldn’t listen. I know him. He’s so set in his beliefs that anything I say in this moment will go in one ear and out the other.

  So instead of trying to fix how he sees himself, I need to help him see himself the way I do: strong, loyal, and caring.

  “I don’t think about it that way.” I sit up so I can look him in the eye. Instead of shying away, he brings his hand to my cheek and rubs his thumb across my face. I lean into his touch, into his wide, large hand. “I see you as a man who went for his dreams, a man who loves his family, who adores his friends, who strives to help his town, and who continues to move forward despite his setbacks.”

  “You see all that?” he asks, a lazy smile dragging across his face.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Nothing else? Nothing at all?”

  And just like that, Reid ends the serious conversation and deflects with humor as he thrusts his hips toward me. For a brief moment, it makes me sad because I wanted to dive into his feelings, to move past the thin veil of sarcasm the two of us seem to depend on. But I shouldn’t expect anything else when it comes to Reid; I should be grateful for the small moment he just gave me, even if it barely skimmed the surface of the complex man he is beneath all the humor.

  And I don’t want to be that girl, that girl who tries to pry every last feeling out of him or who spends morning and night attempting to “fix” him. It will only drive us apart. We are so new, just trying to figure everything out, and I don’t want to ruin that by trying to dive too deep right off the bat.

  But I will be the girl who tries to show him his worth, because he is worth so much more than what he believes.

  “Are you done with the innuendos?” I smile despite myself.

  “Just want to make sure you acknowledge my dick.”

  He’s so ridiculous. I’ve never in my life met a man more obsessed with his penis than Reid Knightly. At least he has a good reason for the obsession.

  I reach down and cup him, pulling a hiss from between his teeth. “Don’t worry, I’ll always acknowledge your dick.”

  “Damn right.”

 
He rolls me onto my back, and with a perfect almost-evil grin, he moves down my body and parts my legs. I sink into the mattress and catch my breath as Reid presses his mouth against me, one possessive kiss at a time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  REID

  Why do all these candles smell like burnt ass?

  I put the brown three-wick back on the shelf, pick up a jar of coffee beans, and take a big whiff. According to Melanie, the owner of Sticks and Wicks, coffee beans cleanse your nose so you can have a clear sniff of the next candle. I was skeptical at first, but after “cleansing” the first go-around, I became a supporter of the beans.

  I like Melanie. She’s a sweet girl, but after spending ten minutes sniffing candles while she interjected with facts about every last ingredient used in the wax, I thanked her for the coffee beans but told her I needed some privacy to sniff on my own. I couldn’t care less what’s in the candle—I just need it to smell good.

  Visiting Sticks and Wicks is the last thing I want to fucking do right now, but I know Eve really likes candles, and since the harbor carries a pretty dangerous old-man-ballsac smell sometimes, I thought it might be beneficial to get some scented candles for the houseboat in case the smell of the harbor bothers her. Not that she’s said anything, but I like to be preventative.

  And you know, candles set the mood and shit.

  Setting the mood means sex.

  Sex with Eve is out of this goddamn world. And I would obviously like more of it, so this means candles.

  I’m buying all the fucking candles.

  If I happen to find a candle I like, maybe I’ll get one for her too. That’s what boyfriends do: buy crap for their girl. Plus, it’s buy one, get one half-off in the store, and Daddy loves a good BOGO. I spotted the sale ad in the newspaper when I was scanning it for anything about Eve and me. Luckily, my family members have kept their mouths shut. Surprising, since Brig has sent me texts every day “gushing” about my newfound relationship.

  Pretty sure he’s trying to live vicariously through me.