Page 13 of Reckless Storm (San Francisco End Game #3)

Reed

I ’ve just stepped out of the shower, naked as the day I was born, when Hayley’s distinct knock permeates the air. Two slow raps of her knuckles followed by three fast ones. Every single time. And every time I hear it, I smile.

“Coming,” I call out, drying my hair before wrapping the towel around my waist, jogging to meet her.

“You’re early,” I state the obvious as I open the door, catching her grin before her eyes drop to my bare chest.

“And you’re an asshole. I haven’t had sex in months and you hit me with that.” She tilts her head to the side, releasing a longing sigh as her words sink in.

“You what?” I blurt, following it with a groan. “Fuck. Don’t worry. I didn’t mean to ask that.”

“Why? We’re friends. Does it shock you to hear that I’m going through a dry spell?”

“No. No . I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“So…” Hayley raises an eyebrow as she bites back a smirk, clearly enjoying this conversation. “It doesn’t shock you then?”

“No… Wait … I… Goddammit, Hayley.”

She grins comically and I reach for her hand, dragging her inside. “Wait here. I’ll put some clothes on.”

I turn to walk away but she calls out. “Don’t do it on my account. I’m good with the towel.”

“I bet you are. But please go and find someone else to perv on.”

“You’re no fun.”

Laughing to myself, I throw on a tee and hoodie, dumping the towel in the hamper before pulling on a pair of briefs and jeans, my mind on my awkward reaction.

It’s been months since the Storm charity event, when we first started hanging out, and I’m still not used to Hayley’s openness.

After our wakeboard park adventure, we started catching up regularly, getting to know each other better, and from day one Hayley made it clear that she’s an open book—happy to answer any questions I might have.

That she trusts me.

But when it comes to her sex life… I don’t ask.

Not for any reason, except that it’s not my place.

Does she ask me? Hell, yeah, she does. On a daily basis.

“Have you been laid yet? Do we need to find you a new girl to fixate on? Why don’t you throw Bria on the bed and show her the man you truly are.”

She’s not one to hold back, and I’m always happy to respond, even if I do answer with wide eyes and an incredulous laugh.

But I don’t ask.

If she wants to volunteer information, I’ll listen and react—sometimes weirdly, like now—but I don’t ask.

Bria and I never really spoke about that part of our lives until our argument at the event. Before that, we kept our love lives out of our friendship, and I never questioned it since it worked to my advantage.

But something shifted a few months back and now Bria’s taken to filling me in on every part of her personal life—the dating apps she’s joined, the men she’s seeing. And yet, when I bring up Hayley, she falls silent, changing the subject in a heartbeat.

I’m not overly thrilled by Bria’s newfound openness. It’s always been easier to avoid that level of conversation. But I’ll admit, I’m curious about Hayley.

Without me asking, she’s confided in me about a lot of her past experience, and I assumed she had a healthy sex life.

But she's abstaining? Mind blown.

“You look like you have questions,” Hayley teases when I walk back in, fully clothed. And she’s not wrong. But again, I’m not about to ask. Instead, I shrug my shoulders and smile.

“And you look like you have a plan for today,” I change the subject. “Where are we going? Swimming with sharks? Rock climbing? What big adventure do you have running through your mind?”

It didn’t take long for me to learn that asking Hayley how she wants to spend our time together is a dangerous question, and yet, I can’t seem to stop myself asking it.

I like the excitement it ignites in her eyes—the happiness it elicits—whenever she tries to talk me into her crazy ideas.

Like surfing in fall with ten-foot waves, when I’ve never set foot on a surfboard, or sneaking me into the San Francisco movie studios because they forgot to take her pass back, signing us up as extras on a well-known TV series.

As though we won’t be recognized.

Neither of which I actually agreed to.

I raise my brows in question and Hayley pauses, her eyes full of the zest I love to see.

“I want to go dress shopping.”

“Say what?” I frown as she laughs.

“I need your help.” She grimaces with clenched teeth. “I have my movie premiere coming up, and the publicity tour. I need a stylist.”

A stylist? “Okay.” I’m not sure I like where this is going but I wait for her to continue.

“I want you to come with me,” she confirms and… that’s what I was worried about.

“Are you sure?” My nose scrunches and she bursts out laughing again.

“It’s not hard. All you have to do is sit there and tell me what you think.”

Fuck . That sounds dangerous.

“Isn’t that a job better suited to Amelia or Paige, or anyone else on the planet?” I’m not sure she really needs help. I still remember the dress she chose for the Storm charity event and the event she went to with Paige, but she’s asking, so…

“They’re busy and I don’t want anyone else on the planet. I want you . I trust your judgment.”

“For dresses? So this is what our friendship has come to? Me being your replacement girlfriend when the others aren’t available.”

“Sure. Like with Bria.”

“Ouch, Hayls. Did I hurt you in a past life?”

Hayley shoves me back as she giggles uncontrollably before walking into the kitchen and helping herself to a cider. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Thank God.” I don’t bother hiding my relief as I relax, my shoulders dropping. “So what are we really doing?”

“Huh?”

“If you’re messing with me.”

“Oh no. We’re going shopping. I was messing with you about Bria. I don’t really think you’re one of her girlfriends.”

“But I am one of yours?”

“No. You’re my best guy friend, and I trust you. I could really use your help. I love fashion, but I’m not great at choosing it. Basically, I need you to tell me if I look hot or not.”

I release a breath through my nose and grin. “Okay, Hayls. Let’s do this. But you owe me.”

Hayley’s bright smile lights up her face, and when she rushes over to hug me, it’s enough to convince me I’m doing the right thing. And after squeezing the life out of me, she rests her chin on my chest and glances up with an appreciative look in her eyes, further cementing my decision. “Deal.”

“Good.” I bop her nose before stepping back, ready to get this over with. How hard could it be?

W ell, fuck me. I am out of my depth. On the drive over alone, she loses me, filling me in on the styles she wants to try on, while I nod along, pretending to know what the hell she’s talking about.

She’s just finished telling me how badly she’d love to find a silver dress, when she changes the subject so fast I get whiplash.

“Since I know you’re wondering… The character I’m auditioning for next week is a virgin,” she states matter-of-factly, making me jolt.

“What?” I choke back a laugh. “When was I wondering that?”

“You weren’t but you were curious about my dry spell, right?”

Dammit . I shake my head and comically sigh. “You caught me. I’m not going to lie. It did intrigue me.”

“Well, now you have your answer.”

“Hold up. So you’re staying celibate because the character you’re auditioning for is a virgin?”

“At first I wasn’t. I just wasn’t feeling it. But when I heard about this role, it made sense to continue.”

Huh. “Well, there you go. I never knew you were a method actor.”

“I’m not, usually. But in this instance, I wanted to understand her desperation and intensity. I wanted to feel the restraint she endured before she gave in and made the worst mistake of her life, sleeping with the man that killed her brother.”

“Whoa. Did you just spoil the plot for me? Hayley, come on,” I scold, jokingly. “Now I can’t watch it.”

“Shut up. You don’t even know what movie it is.” She shoves my arm gently so as to not cause a car accident and I chuckle. “Plus, that’s not the big twist. You’re fine.”

“Phew. Thank God. So…since you brought it up. How’s the sex ban going for you?”

“I’m done. I get it. It’s frustrating as hell. I’m that desperate—I’d fuck one of my exes. Even the one that couldn’t find my clit.”

Jesus Christ. I tap the brake and we both rock forward, making Hayley laugh.

There’s a whole lot to unpack in that sentence. First, Hayley doesn’t swear all that often, unless she’s talking about sex, or she’s drunk, but also…she must be desperate, because she does not speak favorably about her exes.

“Good to know,” I try to joke. As someone who feels the same level of frustration, it’s impossible not to react.

“TMI?” Hayley asks, her expression pinched.

“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m good. I asked.” I shrug and focus on the road until I sense her gaze boring a hole in the side of my face.

“You feel my pain, don’t you?” she asks, squeezing my arm.

“Little bit. Yup.” My voice comes out strained and I don’t bother hiding it. There’s no point in denying it anyway. She knows when I’m lying.

Hayley pats my shoulder as I pull into the parking lot, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess that means we both need to get laid.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

When I come to a stop, Hayley grabs my arm before I can get out, clenching her teeth. “We have to sneak in.”

Huh? I raise a brow in question and she nods. “The stylist doesn’t want me to be seen.”

“What?” I may be famous in my own right, but this is a whole new level for me.

The closer we get to the release of Hayley’s movie, the harder it is for her to live a normal life.

People are recognizing her everywhere she goes and yet, it blows my mind to think we’ve been out numerous times since the day at the waterpark and have yet to read about it in the media.

Hell, when I half drunkenly agreed to be secret friends, I never actually believed we’d succeed.

Now it’s been two months and the only people that know, other than us, are Amelia and Bria.

And a select number of fans that have seemingly kept it to themselves.

“What about you wear my hoodie and go in disguise? I’ll happily wait in the truck until you’re done.”

I comically grin but it does me no favors. “You’re coming. And it’s not for me. It’s for the stylist,” she confirms and my confusion deepens.

“Okay? What about I drive you around back and I walk in the front?”

“That defeats the purpose. The stylist doesn’t want to draw attention to herself in case I don’t choose to work with her. If you waltz in there all ‘look at me, I’m Reed Coombs,’ it’s going to raise questions.”

I stare at her deadpan. “Look at me, I’m Reed Coombs?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Does that really happen?”

“I don’t know. I guess she’s been burned in the past and it’s affected her sales?” She shrugs as I try to understand.

“If that happens, I’ll hire her. She can dress me for the charity event D’Angelo wants to host in late February.”

I’m joking but Hayley ponders that for a moment. “That could work.” She nods to herself. “ Yes . Perfect. Drop me off in the back.”

“I’m kidding.”

“I know. But hooray.” She waves her hands in the air as though celebrating. “Congratulations, you’ve found yourself a stylist.”

“Goddammit,” I groan, banging my head against the steering wheel. “Remind me why I agreed to come with you again?”

“Because you love hanging out with me?”

That wasn’t exactly the reason, but…I can’t argue with that either.