What else?
I removed my beanie and ran a hand through my hair, glancing down an aisle that led to multiple other aisles. I needed inspiration. I needed something good…before I headed to the candy section for fillers.
A stocking with four batteries and candy—what a winner.
Hmm. As a joke, I could get him some socks. He was always stealing mine.
Maybe some deodorant too.
“Socks and deodorant, Jesus Christ,” I muttered to myself.
Then I came to an abrupt halt. Perfect. At the short end between two aisles, labeled “Gift for Dad,” was a display with chef’s knives and barbecue gear. Reese wouldn’t need much of this right now, but I wanted him to know that one day soon, we’d go off on our own. We’d build a home. And he would run our kitchen.
I chose a set of steak knives that came in a wooden box.
I felt better now.
While I was in this corner of the store, I bought fixings for a Christmas morning breakfast too. Things that even I could manage preparing. English muffins, hot cocoa mix, sausage patties—we had cheese at home, same with eggs—and a box of yesterday’s Krispy Kremes, because I was hungry after this hell.
I was ready to get out of there.
Wait. Fuck. Wrapping paper.
I groaned internally and hurried to the Christmas section, where every price tag was jacked up for the season. To be safe, I grabbed two rolls. And some tape. And…fine, some ribbon too. But now I was fucking done!
Well, almost. The goddamn candy.
I only picked holiday-themed candy, because it would serve as decorations too. One had to be smart.
Candy canes, chocolate Santas, chocolate everything.
When I arrived at the checkout, I almost didn’t wanna see the total.
“That’ll be $197.76, sir.”
I unclenched and exhaled. I’d thought it would be worse than that.
God bless Walmart.
A couple minutes later, the back seat of the truck was filled with bags, and I was sitting behind the wheel, cramming day-old donuts into my mouth.
* * *
I hid everything in the garage and came into an empty house that reeked of Reese’s body spray.
It made my stomach churn to know—to smell—that he’d recently been here to get ready for a date.
What if my instincts were wrong about the whole thing? What if he didn’t share the same confusion as me? Maybe he had nothing he wanted to figure out between us.
I swallowed hard and eyed the hallway that led to our room. Knowing him, there was a selection of shirts on his bed that he’d tried on and discarded before finding the right one. I didn’t wanna see it.
Fuck. I had to screw my head on right, didn’t I?
Perhaps I couldn’t read Reese as well as I’d thought.
I had to get out of here. If I stayed in this house while he was out with Brian, I’d lose my mind. I’d pace a hole in the floor and conjure scenarios that were so unlikely, I’d just give myself an ulcer. The realistic risk was bad enough.
Not bothering taking off my jacket and beanie, I hurricaned through the house and packed a bag for the pool. Trunks, bottle of Jack from Pop’s stash, pack of smokes he kept hidden, lighter, towel, body wash. Then I returned to the entryway, stuck my feet into my boots again, and left the house.
Snow mixing with rain in harsh winds—perfect weather for my mood.
Throwing the duffel over my shoulder, I started jogging down the street.
It would be just my luck if they’d installed better security at the pool since last year, though I highly doubted it. No one gave funding to this place anymore, not since they built a bigger complex next to the high school. These days, the only people who visited our local pool were old folks who did water aerobics, new mothers and their babies, and the occasional families on the weekends. The café had closed, the swimsuit shop had gone out of business, and they’d let most of the staff go. You didn’t need an army of lifeguards on duty to protect a twenty-five-yard pool with only four lanes and a single hot tub.
Once I reached the pool, I rounded the building to get to the staff entrance. Nothing had changed. The keypad box was right there next to the door, and I lifted it to grab the key. Then I unlocked the door, headed in, and punched in the security code to turn off the alarm. Done.
I drew in a deep breath and inhaled the smell of chlorine and neglect. How they hadn’t found mold here was more a matter of someone shredding paperwork than anything else. There was no way the place would pass a serious inspection.
The emergency lights were enough to guide me into the changing room, through the showers, and out into the pool area. A sense of relief at being here hit me at the same time as the humidity did.
There used to be two trampolines and a small stand for parents for when they’d hosted meets here. Now it had all been stripped away, and a handful of plastic tables and chairs had replaced the bleachers.
The pool was enough for me. It was the only thing illuminated, too, except for the exit signs above the doors.
I dumped my duffel on a chair and began changing into my shorts. A two-thousand-yard workout would hopefully clear my head a bit, and then I could go sit and relax in the hot tub. It was located on the other side of the pool in an alcove of sorts, an extension of the original building, and had windows facing the staff parking lot in the back. Thankfully, the windows had been tinted a few years back because of pervs.
Tightening the drawstrings of my trunks, I picked the closest lane and peered into the water.
No matter what I did, Reese would always stay close in my mind. He’d become better than me at swimming too. When we were kids, I beat him in pretty much anything. He’d been my shadow, and I had led the way. Then I’d developed my love for reading, for psychology, geography, chemistry, and math. He’d continued with football and martial arts and swimming, while I had opted to stay at home with a book about analysis in behavioral changes or strategic warfare.
Maybe it’d made me too cocky.
I dove into the pool and swam half the length underwater before I resurfaced and started slicing my way through the water.
When I read, specifically on psychology and human behavior, Reese was often my accidental lab rat because he was always there. I observed him for tics, patterns, and clues. Perhaps that was my problem—reading too much into something.
I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace.
It fucking sucked when my brain wasn’t on the same page as the rest of me.
And “the rest of me” knew exactly what I wanted. Him. Always him. Every inch I could take, every moment we could spend together. That was what my body and heart screamed for, as stupid as it might sound.
Yeah, you’re an idiot.
Getting Reese out of my head was working really well. I’d already lost count on the laps.
Chapter 3
An hour or so later, I dragged myself out of the pool and just barely resisted the temptation to collapse in one of the chairs. Instead, I grabbed my towel and the rest of my stuff and trailed toward the “relaxation room.” A fancy term for a small room with a swimming hole that seated eight people and had jets.
There was another plastic chair in a corner for my bag, and I placed everything there before I walked over to the hot tub’s staircase. I opened a little latch on the outside and turned on the jets.