Page 102 of First Touch

“Lots and lots and lots of women,” Brent said and Reeve kicked his boot. “Hey, I’m speaking with admiration. You were a God.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Reeve took a swig of his beer. “I still am a God.”

When the laughter from that settled down, I asked, “What made you clean up your act?”

The guys looked to my boyfriend who, once again, looked as though he might let the question go ignored. But I was learning he liked to take his time with personal answers and, sure enough, eventually he said, “Missy.” He worked his jaw. “Her death was a big slap in the face that my life was out of control. So, I stopped with the drugs, cut out some key people, quit throwing over-the-top parties, and —”

“And you’ve been a control freak ever since,” I finished for him.

Again everyone laughed. “You know our boy well,” Charlie said and I thought, I’m beginning to.

Around ten, the group dispersed – some going into town to drink at the bars, others, who had to work on Saturday, going home to sleep off the alcohol. “There’s no Monday through Friday when you’re working with livestock,” Charlie said in parting. “And five a.m. comes sooner than you think.”

Then it was just Reeve and me. I shifted my weight on the rock I was sitting on, partly to angle myself toward him, partly because my sore behind had kept me shifting all night.

He noticed and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Eagerly, I accepted the invitation into his lap. It wasn’t really that much more comfortable than the rock, but sitting with my back pressed to him, his arms wrapped around me, made everything feel better.

“So… a party boy, huh?” I asked, though I’d really known that already. The media had portrayed him as such and I’d seen evidence from his birthday party pictures at his Palm Springs resort and from Chris’s description of Sallis gatherings.

Reeve nodded, but didn’t elaborate. When he did speak again, he had to repeat his question, I was so certain I’d heard him wrong the first time. “Have you ever been in love?”

I craned to look up at him to see if he was serious. He was. I settled my head back into him and said, “That’s pretty unexpected coming from you.”

“Why? Because a ‘party boy’ can’t ever be interested in mushy things like love? Maybe I just want to find out if I have a reason to be jealous. So I can kill him.”

I rolled my eyes but my chest warmed, as if the fire was also heating me from the inside.

He nuzzled into my neck. “I’m serious. About some of it, anyway. Tell me. I want to know.”

“No. I haven’t.” There was a time I’d thought it was another of my flaws. Thought that I was incapable of falling in love with a person or of having another person love me.

But there was someone I had loved. Someone who loved me. Someone who proved contrary to the illustration I’d drawn of myself. “I did love someone once though,” I said, wanting to answer his question honestly. “A girlfriend.”

Reeve moved my hips so that he could face me. “Emily. Are you saying you go both ways? Because I think I just got hard.”

I chuckled. “No. I don’t. Definitely all man for me. I mean, I’ve had threesomes. With her.”

He adjusted himself underneath me. “Yep. Definitely got hard.”

I could feel his bulge – he wasn’t hard. Semi maybe. I ignored it, more interested in explaining my relationship with Amber at the moment. “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t sexual even when there was sex involved. We were just really good friends. We went through a lot together and she always understood me like no one else ever has.”

Or, like no one else ever had. Because Reeve seemed really good at getting me.

“Plus you had threesomes. We should call her up.” He tipped his beer to his lips.

From his wink, I knew he was kidding, but I said anyway, “No, we shouldn’t. First of all, I can’t call her. We parted ways and then I lost track of her.”

I took the bottle from him and finished the end of it in a long swallow before adding, “Besides, I don’t think I could share you with her. With anyone.”

Reeve put the empty bottle on the ground and cupped my cheek. “Then I’d never expect you to.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed me, or I kissed him, lips molding by the firelight. Heat spreading from the inside and the outside.

He broke away first. With his mouth still inches from mine, he asked, “How is it that you’ve never fallen in love besides with her? You can’t say there hasn’t been opportunity.”