But would I make it? Would I make it out alive?
I fiddled with my thumbs, staring down at the dark-gray comforter on the bed. “Are you sure you want to work right now? Maybe you should sleep and we can work tomorrow on the bus while we drive?”
Reid shook out his dark hair, his one leg propped up with his arm resting on it. “Can’t sleep.”
I fiddled with my glasses because I was still being awkward. I couldn’t help it. “Okay… Well then, I guess we can get to work.”
He snorted. “Good… that’s what you’re here for, right? Or was it just to be the band’s cheerleader?”
I flicked my eyes up to his and didn’t even pause to catch my breath. “There’s the Reid I’ve grown to know. The one who never holds back what he thinks. Should I start wearing a cheerleading outfit to the shows? I can, if you want.”
His sculpted face stayed unmoving. Unamused. Okay then, no joking. Got it.
“So? What’s next on the list? Do you want me to write down the things the toaster makes me feel?” Reid’s voice was beyond sarcastic, and just like that, all the nervous butterflies floating around my stomach died an instant death.
I shook my head, taking my reading glasses off for a second to rub my eyes. Reid King was exhausting, but the better question was, why wasn’t he exhausted? Even I was tired after watching him onstage. It was the second show, and although I didn’t get yelled at by any stage workers this time, I still felt utterly beat.
My eyes scanned the bed before I crawled over and grabbed a pillow.
“Oh, are we taking a nap now?” he asked, annoyed.
“No,” I said, clutching onto the pillow tighter. Then I pulled my arm back and decked it at his head. “I want you to do the same exercise with the pillow as you did with the spoon.”
Reid ducked and then raised his hazel-colored eyes up to mine. He cocked an eyebrow, and I could have sworn I saw a small tic of a smile forming on his face, but it quickly disappeared.
“This isn’t going to work.”
“What isn’t? You being a jerk and uncooperative when I ask you to do something?”
“I’m not being uncooperative; you just don’t know what you’re doing.”
I shrugged, feeling a little surge of fire in my veins. “Apparently, neither do you.”
Reid’s stare almost turned cold, his mouth forming a straight line. He turned his head away, and my eyes went directly to his sharp jaw. The dead butterflies came back to life and started to fly around my stomach again, but I focused on my irritation instead.
I continued to glare at Reid as he turned his attention back to me. He studied my face for maybe three seconds. But those three seconds? They were the longest three seconds of my life. I wanted to squirm under his stare. I wanted to dart my eyes away and cower, sassiness and all, but I didn’t. I reminded myself of the one thing that Finn told me the other day: Give him time, and just be patient. He’s under a lot of stress.
Well, guess what, Reid? So was I. My family’s house was months away from being taken from them, Cara was so stressed I was afraid she’d somehow develop a heart condition and die, and then me? It basically felt like it was my job to save them all.
I just had to get Reid King back on track. That was it, and everything would be all fine and dandy.
I felt as if Reid King needed someone to tell him how it was. He didn’t need to be coddled or babied. He needed someone to pull him up by the collar of his flannel shirt that he always rocked onstage and yell at him to pull himself out of the darkness before it was all he could see anymore.
He needed to work through whatever block he had. There was no way around it. And he definitely had some type of block—everyone noticed, although no one would tell me why. Finn and Jackson were quite the secret keepers when it came to Reid’s brooding self.
“Fine,” he finally huffed, abruptly sitting up. He leaned over the side of the bed and pulled the pillow up off the floor. I told myself to keep my eyes on his head, but then they traveled down, just slightly, to the muscles that were stretching on his back, moving together in an effort to reach the pillow. My entire face flamed red.
I quickly averted my gaze and glanced down at what I was wearing and wanted to cringe. I was sporting an old t-shirt that continued to fall off my shoulder and cotton pajama pants. My hair was up on the top of my head, and pair that with the glasses? I looked like a total dweeb. A homeless dweeb.
Scoffing, I took my eyes off my own attire. Reid King wasn’t even giving me a second glance. He didn’t care what I was wearing or how I looked. Most of the times that he had looked at me, I felt like he was looking straight through me, which was a little disappointing, if I truly thought about it.
When my eye
s finally reached Reid again, I quickly slapped my hand over my face. “What are you doing?!” I squealed. My whole body felt like it had been drenched with a pot of boiling water.
“Changing?” he answered, nonchalant.
“In front of me?!”