Page 52 of Reckless Storm (San Francisco End Game #3)

Reed

I t’s been three weeks since Hayley left, and I still can’t get our goodbye kiss out of my head. I think about it every time we speak. I think about it when I’m alone. Hell, I still think about it when I’m training with the guys.

Which is not at all convenient.

I’m consumed by her. She’s ingrained in my mind. Some might say I’m obsessed. And it’s driving me crazy.

This is supposed to be fake. We’re supposed to be friends. But there’s nothing fake or platonic about the way I feel.

Only how the hell can I tell if it’s real? I’ve once again fallen for my best friend, like it’s my fucking MO. What the hell is wrong with me?

Now I get to spend the entire weekend with my family while they undoubtedly ask me a million questions about Hayley and I work hard to pretend I’m okay.

My problems are small compared to what they’re going through—the least I can do is keep the smiles on their faces—but they’re still fucking problems.

After a long drive from the airport, I pull up in front of my parents’ modest property and stare at the yellow front door, willing it to morph into something else. Somewhere else.

I wouldn’t say I had a rough childhood. For the most part I was loved, and my parents were there cheering me on, supporting me, nurturing my potential. But it came in waves. And I haven’t completely moved on. Not that I’d ever tell them that.

Out of the corner of my eye, the old lace privacy curtain shifts and I know I have about ten seconds before my mother walks out. Nothing happens around here without her knowing about it.

Right on cue, the door swings open, and she rushes toward me, her arms wide as I jump out of my rental.

“What are you hiding away for?” she asks as I bend down, letting her wrap me in her hold, rocking me tightly until she’s gotten her fill. “I’ve missed you. It’s been months.”

“I know. I thought it was best to give you some time and—”

“He’s at a music festival out of state,” Mom cuts me off, smiling as though this is news to me.

But it’s not.

Dad mentioned the festival was this weekend, so rather than coming for their birthdays last week, I held off and wired him the money to buy Jace tickets, under the guise that he won them. Dad even told him I wasn’t coming home this year. But I have no doubt that Mom will tell him when he gets home.

Either way, for now, it’s easier. If Hayley wasn’t going to be here, there was no way I was going to face him alone.

“I already know,” I admit. “It’s a shame I won’t see him,” I lie and Mom laughs to herself, flashing me a knowing grin.

“Your father?”

“Yep.” I nod, smiling to hide the pain. Mom’s happy now, grinning from ear to ear, but according to Dad, the moments of happiness have been few and far between, especially in the last few weeks.

I’ve always wished I could do more, but since Mom’s in denial about how awful Jace is, and my dad would do anything to keep her happy, this is the best I’ve got.

Being here is the best I can do. Making her happy.

Making them happy. Being their golden boy.

The kid they never had to worry about. The son that made them proud.

Did his chores. Passed his tests. Brought laughter into the home. Helped .

Whenever someone would speak about my brother in a negative light, Mom would change the subject to me, talking about a trophy I’d won, or the little old lady I’d walked across the street.

When I was younger, I faked all that, but as I grew, that version of me became real, much in the same way my feelings for Hayley have.

Which is why I can’t trust them. Not yet.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Reed.” Mom interrupts my thoughts as she steps back, her motherly gaze running over me, assessing my well-being, as if she can tell how I am simply by looking at me.

“Shall we go inside?” she says after a beat, presumably deciding I’m good, even though I’m not.

“Martha’s over and she’d love to see you.

The town’s always talking about how incredible you are and fawning over your new relationship.

Do you know some of the ladies had no idea Hayley was an actress?

Can you imagine? She’s a huge star. How could they not? ”

“Wow. That blows my mind.” I chuckle, not mentioning the fact that I had to show Mom who she was when I first started talking about her.

“I think she’s the one, Reed. I have a feeling.”

“Oh, yeah?” I laugh it off, while my heart slams in my chest. “You haven’t even met her.”

“I don’t have to. I can hear it in your voice when you talk about her, and I see it in your eyes now. Call it mother’s intuition.”

What ? My smile drops as a wave of emotion takes over me. “What did you think about Bria?”

“Bria?” Her nose scrunches. “What do you mean?”

“When I talked about her, what did you think?”

Her brows furrow as confusion mars her features. “You mean you don’t know?”

“No, that’s why I’m asking.”

“We thought she was nice enough and knew you were a little infatuated, but she was never right for you. It was obvious by the way you always held back. As though something deep within you here”—she holds her palm above my heart—“was convinced there was someone else out there. And I think that someone was Hayley.”

What. The. Fuck.

Mom links her arm through mine and begins walking me to the door, but I pull her to a stop, turning her to face me.

“You really thought that?” Like me, Mom sees the good in everyone, but unlike me, she’s a terrible judge of character and doesn’t tend to look much past the surface.

It surprises me that she noticed all that. If it’s true.

“Yes, I really thought that. Why would I lie? You’re a good guy, Reed.

The best person I know. Better than anyone in this town.

You’re intuitive, thoughtful, observant.

And you know you could have anyone you want.

” I open my mouth to protest but she cuts me off.

“Don’t pretend otherwise. You know it. Yet, you never made a move on Bria.

Even in the early days when your crush began.

And, on that note, can you remind me which of your tattoos belongs to her? ”

“What?” I shake my head at the sudden change in direction.

“All of your tattoos belong to someone or something, right? You told me that the day I first noticed you’d gotten one. Only to find out you already had six.”

Fuck . I did say that.

“The eagle belongs to your high school football team,” she continues.

“The guys that got you through the days when your brother was at his worst. The three hearts on the left of your rib cage belong to me, my mom, and your father’s mother, while the fish on the right belong to the men in your life—you father and grandfathers. ”

Holy shit. She’s a lot more observant than I realized.

“Tell me, Reed. Which piece of beautiful art belongs to Bria? I’m curious.”

She’s questioning me like she already knows the answer, but that’s impossible.

How could she? I have close to fifty tattoos.

She doesn’t know the meaning behind them all.

Hell, she doesn’t even know that some of them exist. I may have told her about a few, and others are easy to guess, but apart from that…

“I’m waiting…” She taps her foot impatiently.

“None,” I blurt out honestly. “She’s got none.”

Mom nods before a small smirk pulls at her lips. “And Hayley?”

Fuck. Digging my palms into my eyes, I let out a groan before slowly lifting my tee, pointing to the paw print on my left pec muscle, close to my heart. A cat’s paw to be precise. My wildcat.

Mom’s eyes light up as she smiles. “That’s what I thought. Mothers always know.”

Linking my arm again, she walks toward the front door without waiting for me to respond, perhaps giving me the respite I so desperately need. How the hell didn’t I make that connection?

I got that tattoo after our wakeboard park adventure, when we became close, but I didn’t have feelings for her then, and yet, I never got one for Bria. Never . What the fuck does that mean?

The second I’m inside, Mom’s friend pounces on me, asking me a million questions about my famous girlfriend—as though I’m not famous myself—and it pulls me out of my head, forcing me to move on and not think too deeply about my new revelation.

But when I’m in bed that night, and a vision of Hayley takes over my mind, I have no choice but to face it head-on.

And the truth becomes clear. I’ve definitely fallen for my best friend. Again . Only now I’m wondering… Did I really do that the first time around?

“ T hen you pulled your pants down and proceeded to dance around the yard because you thought it would bring on the rain.” Mom has tears in her eyes as she regales us with stories, reminding me of the many things I did as a kid in the name of making her happy.

“That’s what TJ said would work.” I shrug. “His parents always had the greenest grass. I had no reason to doubt him.”

“Except that TJ’s parents had fake turf.” Dad gets his two cents in, glancing up with a smirk from behind his newspaper.

“I know that now .” I fake an eye roll, letting them continue their laughter at my expense. After all, that’s why I’m here. To lift my mom’s mood. Even if it’s fleeting.

“What was the story you were telling me the other day?” Mom asks my dad, drawing my attention.

“It was a good one.” She turns my way with a giddy smile and my stomach sinks.

“He reminded me about the time you tried to wash your own sheets when you were sick, because you didn’t want us to have to worry. Only you flooded the laundry room.”

“All the bottles of liquid look similar. I didn’t know I was putting in the wrong soap. To me soap was soap.”

I laugh at myself while inside I’m crumbling. Did Dad mention that story to cheer her up? Is that what he does when I’m not around?

Mom brings up another couple of stories before moving the topic on to their night in the city. And the energy shifts in the room, the joy obvious in her expression. Imagine how happy they’d be if they’d gone on the full vacation I gave them.

I’d do anything to convince them to take off and enjoy themselves. But for now, I’ll settle for this weekend.

It’s safe to say Mom hasn’t stopped smiling since I arrived. I even got a few rare smiles out of Dad.

Mission accomplished .

But come Sunday night when it’s time to leave, the mood changes, and it breaks my heart to think about what’s next.

“I wish you’d visit more often,” Dad says as he pats my back, his tired eyes flashing toward my mom. I force a smile and tell him I’ll try, though we both know it’s not that easy.

Guilt gnaws away at me, destroying me from the inside out, but I push through it. Succumbing to their sadness helps no one, and I promised to always be their light. I can’t give up now.

“Maybe next time we’ll see Hayley with you? We’d love to meet her. I don’t think I’ve ever met an Australian.”

For a short glimpse, Mom’s happiness returns until her gaze drops to my bag and she frowns. “I’m going to miss you, Reed. It’s not enough to only see you a handful of times each year.”

“I know. And the offer still stands for you to move to San Francisco. We can find you a house near the beach. You always said you wanted that.”

Dad straightens. “I’ve been trying to convince her but—”

“What if you get traded, or retire and move to Australia to raise babies? Your father and I will be alone in another state. We’d miss our friends. Dad won’t have any work there.”

“I know, Mom. It’s a lot. But I can promise you I am not moving to Australia. America will always be my home.”

“Well, I guess that’s something. You’ll be back for your birthday, right?” Mom asks with an expectant smile.

A lump forms in the back of my throat but I force it down, nodding. “Always.”

When I moved away, I promised I’d be back for all our birthdays, as close to the date as possible. Mom lets me off the hook for missing my brother’s special day, but because of that, he always makes sure he’s around when I come home for mine.

“I’ll make sure to bring Hayley next time,” I lie. Who knows where our lives will be by then. But if I can leave Mom with a small piece of hope, her happiness might last a little longer than usual.

She pulls me into a tight hug and Dad shoots me a pointed stare, tapping his watch. If I don’t leave now, my presence is going to cause an entirely new set of issues, and I can’t do that to them.

“I better get going, Mom. I have a flight to catch. I’ll see you very soon.”

“Love you, Reed.”

“Love you too.”

I throw my bag in the back of my rental and wave, and as I drive away, my usual guilt kicks in. I should be doing more. But if I knew what, I’d already be doing it.