Tempted

Chapter 13

Taylor

I transfer a scoop of scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon from the warming tray to my plate and follow MJ and Logan to our table.

I stab a forkful of overcooked eggs and MJ and Logan exchange a look.

“What?” I grumble around the eggs.

MJ lifts her right eyebrow, which now sports a tiny barbell. “Now that Colt’s gone, you’re going to be bitchy?”

I swallow down the bite of eggs. “No.” Then stab another forkful. I’m going to make the best of it, but my lack of sleep last night after the Bria incident and then waking up at the crack of dawn when Colt said goodbye had left me drained.

Britt hovers near our table, laughing loudly into her cell phone. “You’re just getting to bed? Damn girl.”

Clearly her friends are just as classy as she is. Britt graduated last year and is now an associate agent. Her failed attempts at seducing Colt last year mean she and I do not see eye to eye. “Well good luck dislodging the stick from Colt’s ass.”

At the mention of his name, I lift my head. She must be talking to Bria.

Britt continues and my eyes follow her across the room. “The London Tower at sunset sounds so romantic! Aw, B, you are so lucky!”

I grip my can of Diet Coke, crinkling the aluminum in my grasp.

“Breathe, Taylor,” MJ reminds me. “You know those bitches are just doing it to get a reaction from you. Don’t play into their trap.”

I pull a deep breath into my lungs, fighting to clear my head. I know MJs right. Britt and Bria have little in the way of self-control or self-respect. They’re two years older than me, but conduct themselves like complete amateurs.

“Besides the London Tower was a prison, it’s not romantic,” MJ adds.

Britt saunters away, saying goodbye to Bria and my heart rate struggles to return to normal.

A look passes between MJ and Logan. They’re concerned about me. But I’m dead set on proving them wrong. I’m not one of those pathetic stalker girlfriends cataloging her boyfriends every move.

“So Reis has a soccer game this Friday. You guys want to come with me?”

“You mean Boyfriend Junior?” Logan laughs.

Because Reis looks so much like Colt, MJ and Logan have taken to calling him Boyfriend Junior.

“Sorry, can’t,” MJ says stirring her coffee. “I have a date Friday.”

“And I’d rather play with explosives than do the whole high school game night thing,” Logan adds.

“You guys suck.” But at least I’ll have something to do this weekend to distract myself. Reis has already has plans to spend the weekend here, staying in Colt’s room so we can hang out. He doesn’t know many people at his new school yet. Our school’s so damn small, it’ll be nice to have the company. I avoid looking over at Britt for the remainder of breakfast.

Sitting on the hard metal bleachers, I’m starting to regret agreeing to come to Reis’ game. But when his team took the field, I found myself leaning forward to try and spot him. I grinned when I picked him out of the group of guys. Number twenty-one. His build is athletic, and just like Colt he’s been graced with a robust sense of confidence.

My eyes stay glued to Reis. He’s a forward, which means he’s front and center for a lot of the action. I watch him trek up and down the field and notice the glean of sweat that dampens his hairline, and the rosy flush of his cheeks. His face is fixed with determination and he shouts commands out his teammates on the field. I still can’t get over how much he looks like Colt. Their voices even sound the same. Watching him that makes me aware of missing Colt. But thankfully watching Reis makes it easy to get lost in the game. His labored breathing and the grunts he releases when he connects with the ball are a damned near perfect distraction.

After the game, Reis jogs to the bleachers to meet me. He gives me the keys to wait for him in his Jeep and says he’ll take a quick shower and be right out.

It’s easy to find his ride the parking lot. He drives a big red Jeep on oversized tires. I climb inside. It’s a very utilitarian vehicle, very unlike Colt’s sexy luxury sedan, built for speed and agility. This is all about function. The seat is rough underneath me, faded by the sun and elements.

Reis saunters out to the parking lot, his damp hair hanging in his eyes. He’s changed into jeans and a vintage Pink Floyd T-shirt with sandals. He looks cute. Very California.

He gets in and the Jeep rumbles to life, vibrating the seat underneath me.

“I’m starved. Want to grab dinner?”

I nod. “Sure.”

Reid drives us to a little diner along the main street of the town where he and Colt grew up. He parallel parks and hops don from the Jeep. I climb carefully down, my sandals slapping against the pavement with a thud.

Once inside, he relives the highlights from his game and we each order soda, a cheeseburger for him and a grilled chicken sandwich for me. Our food is out lightning fast.

Reis douses his burger in ketchup and takes a big bite. I cut my chicken sandwich in half and have only taken one bite when he’s stuffing the last of his burger into his mouth.

“So Colt says your pissed at him and I’m supposed to try to talk you into forgiving him,” he says, moving onto his fries.

“And?” I ask around a bite a grilled chicken.

“I’m not going to.” He grins. “If he’s stupid enough to fuck this up, his loss could be my gain.” His look is smug, and he tosses a few more fries in his mouth.

“Not going to happen, Reis.” It’s best to shoot his crazy ideas down now.

“A guy can hope, right?”

“What about MJ?” I remember the glances they shared.

“She’s a little too wild for me. I like girls that are more down to earth.”

He doesn’t say like me, but I can tell that’s what he’s thinking. I’m flattered, but have no idea what to say next. He eats the last fry on his plate and looks longingly at mine. The temptation process too great and he steals a fry from my plate and tosses it in his mouth.

“So why are you mad at him? He didn’t say.”

I’m not sure if I should drag Reis into my relationship problems, but then I figure why not? Colt’s thrust us together and it might be nice to get a guy’s perspective on it. “He didn’t tell me about Bria, his ex-fling, going with him.” I remember the way I found out, in the heat of the moment by seeing her name on his phone. My stomach sinks at the memory, my appetite waning.

Reis’ eyes stay on mine. He’s an attentive listener. “You can have another.” I shift my plate so he has easier access to my fries.

He hesitates for a second, then reaches over to grab one, dipping it in my ketchup too. “Listen, Colt’s a little rough around the edges, and I’ve never known him to have, or want a girlfriend, so I know you’re important to him. Maybe you should cut the guy a break.”

“We’ll see.” I take another bite of my sandwich.

“You’re trouble, Shrimp.”

“Why do you call me Shrimp? I’m not that short. More like average.”

“What are you? Five-two?”

“Five-two-and-a-half.”

He chuckles. “Oh, let’s not forget that half. Being five-two – and a half – makes you a Shrimp. It just does.”

“How tall are you?”

“Six-one,” he answers, straightening his shoulders, a smug smile pulling at his lips.

“Colt’s six-two,” I blurt out for some unknown reason.

“Yeah, but he was only six foot when he was my age.”

I shake my head. It’s funny how competitive guys can be.

My cell phone chimes. “Speaking of…” It’s Colt.

Reis motions for me to go ahead and answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi baby,” Colt’s low voice washes over me.

I try and quickly fail to figure out the time difference between Connecticut and London. “Hi. I’m out to dinner with Reis right now.”

“Cool. Did he win his game?”

“Yep, they won. He did awesome too, he was by far the best one on the field.” Reis smiles and shoves another of my fries into his mouth.

“Don’t be falling for my brother when I’m gone. I’m going to make up for every dumb ass thing I’ve done when I get back.”

“We’ll see. Just make sure you don’t fall for Bria.” I remember seeing her the morning they left, her sweats riding so low, her thong was visible in the back. I know she did it purposefully for Colt to see.

“You have nothing to worry about there. Trust me. She’s getting on my nerves already. I’m starting to regret that I brought her.”

I know it’s shallow of me, but it’s good to hear. “Kay, well I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be rude to Reis, plus he’s eating all my French fries. But call me later. There’s some things we need to talk about.” We haven’t yet talked about that conversation I overheard of Britt’s, and before I allow jealousy to build, I want to hear the truth from him.

“Okay, I’ll call you later,” he confirms, his voice serious, like he may have something to confess. I do my best to focus on Reis, and his happiness over winning his game and try not to worry.