He jerks his chin, accepting my explanation. “Fine. But that still doesn't explain why CJ. You don't even know him.”

I flinch as if Reed's words literally slap me across the face. “I know him,” I hiss. “I know him just as well as you do, or Beth, or anybody else. And he knows me. We're tight.” I watch Reed's eyes narrow and the furrow in his brow deepen as he stares across the seat at me, and quickly realize I may want to reel this in a bit. I'm practically shouting. “I mean, you paired us up at the wedding,” I clarify, voice calm and easy listening level. “We got to know each other pretty quickly that weekend between all the festivities. And don't forget, CJ wouldn't be out of work if it wasn't for me. I dragged Richard to that concert. So when CJ offered me a place to stay, rent free in exchange for being his live-in nurse, I took it. I’m helping him. I owe him, Reed. He saved me that night. Who knows what would’ve happened if I would’ve left with Richard.”

Reed's nostrils flare as his lips press together, and I think maybe he's going to get on me about how aggressive I'm being in my defense, but he doesn't. He looks at the dash, rubs at his eyes with his hand relaxing off the wheel, thinks in silence for a breath, then turns his head back to me. And I recognize the look I'm getting now as the same look Reed gave me at the hospital.

It's a look of concern. That protective, brotherly look only Reed can give me.

“Every time I think about that night, I want to go find that asshole and kill him,” he says, shaking his head and looking away briefly before meeting my eyes again. “You doing all right with everything that went down? Richard’s going to be in jail awhile for assaulting a cop.”

“Good,” I bite out. “I hope he stays there and gets passed around between the big guys.”

Reed’s mouth twitches. He pushes his hand through his hair, saying, “I gotta be honest, I hate that you went through that, Riley, but I’m fucking ecstatic you’re not with him anymore.”

“I’m not surprised. You weren’t shy about hating him.”

“I won’t be shy about the next worthless piece of shit either. I’m going to make that fucker jump through hoops.”

My stomach knots up.

Reed smiles a little, but it does nothing to ease my lingering discomfort surrounding this topic. “So how come you couldn't tell me where you were living?” he asks. “What's the big secret?”

I swallow and feel my hands sliding off the seat. They fall to my side where my fingers curl under the bottom of my shorts. “I just didn’t think you would understand,” I reply.

“What’s there to understand? Is something else going on?”

I quickly shake my head. “No.” My answer is firm and louder than my previous ones. It’s also the truth. Nothing else is going on, but even if there was, I’m still worried how Reed would react. “I’m just helping him,” I say. “That’s it. We’re friends.”

I’m scared that’s all we’ll ever be.

Reed stares at me for a beat, eyes assessing, face expressionless while he considers my answer, then he tips his head toward the windshield. “All right. Go,” he orders. “But next time, don’t worry about me understanding or not. Just tell me what you’re doing, Riley. And not in some drunken, middle-of-the-night phone call I can barely fucking understand.”

I’m nodding, smiling, and so happy to hear the words all right go, that I don’t even pay attention to anything else Reed is saying. Nothing else matters. I’m off the hook! He doesn’t seem to hate me. Thank God. Taking a step back, I grip the edge of the door, ready to close it, but before I do, I remember one last thing that needs to be said.

“Congrats, by the way, Daddy Reed.”

Seriously. This is amazing news.

Ear to ear, a smile stretches across my brother’s mouth. And when men smile like this, beautifully, eyes shining and every muscle in their face reacting, it’s something to look at, smile back at, and appreciate.

And I take the time to do just that before saying my farewells.

When I descend the stairs and step out into the basement of Holy Cross, I feel different. Better, in a way. I’m not keeping this giant secret from Reed anymore. He knows where I’m living now, and he seems okay with mine and CJ’s arrangement, possibly even supportive of it. And having Reed’s approval means a lot. So much more than anyone else’s. It means everything. It always has.

“Looks like that conversation went well,” Beth observes when I step into the kitchen wearing a relieved smile. She’s standing at the long, metal counter in the middle of the room, several cans of green beans in front of her that she’s opening up and dumping into a pot.

“Yep. I feel good about it,” I reply, grabbing an apron off the wall and slipping the loop over my head. “I don’t need to lie about where I’m living now, so that’s a relief.”

“And what about your other secrets involving CJ? Are you going to tell Reed about those?”

My smile disappears. That half-hungover feeling turns my stomach, but I know it has nothing to do with tequila.

Truth tastes bitter. No wonder people lie so much. I don’t want to believe what I’m about to say any more than I want to say it.

I tie the string behind my back and cross the room. “I don’t have multiple secrets,” I clarify. “I have one secret—we slept together. We’re not sleeping together. That’s not happening, so it doesn’t even matter. We can all move on.” I meet her eyes—filled with questions and a pitying concern for me when I stop on the other side of the counter. My shoulders slouch. “I put CJ in the friend-zone and now I’m pretty sure he never wants to leave it,” I add, frowning.