“Got tea?”

I grinned. “I do.”

He trailed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I grabbed a glass. As he peered out the kitchen sink window, I had a moment of panic. Was the kitchen a hot, dirty mess? After a quick scan of the countertops, I only spotted a few crumbs by the toaster and my paintbrushes were drying on a sheet of paper towels—­thank God. Normally there’d be cup rings, plates, and maybe a bowl of leftover cereal.

“Here you go.” I offered him a glass of iced tea.

“Thank you.” His fingers grazed mine as he took the glass, and a blanket of sudden shyness wrapped around me. “Mind if I use the bathroom?”

I stared at the thick, leather strap on his flip-­flops. “Help yourself.” I took a step back, glancing up as I clutched my glass of tea to my chest. I sucked in a sharp breath when my eyes met his. He wore a look—­a hot and hungry one—­that said he wanted to take those two words I just uttered and apply them to a whole lot of other things.

In that moment, I sort of wanted to smack myself. I’d seen that look before, many times over the last eleven months whenever he was in the bar. We’d both made a lot of assumptions about that night we shared, but I felt like an even bigger idiot as I stood in front of him. There was no mistaking the way he looked at me.

“I’m . . . I’m going to get changed real quick,” I said, sidestepping around him. “You know where the bathroom is.”

He said something, but there were way too many things floating around in my head to pay attention. I left my tea on the end table I’d painted a deep blue last fall and then all but flew into the bedroom, stopping long enough to make sure the studio-­room door was shut. Even though the portraits I’d done of Reece weren’t hanging in there, I really didn’t want him roaming into that room because they wouldn’t be hard to find.

Closing the door quietly behind me, I whirled around and stared at the queen-­sized bed I’d scrimped and saved for, managing to purchase about two years ago. Now, I’d be saving to replace Henry’s windshield.

Ugh.

I didn’t want to think about how tired and . . . and done with it Charlie looked today. I didn’t want to think about Henry and how badly I’d lost control. I wasn’t going to think about any hard things, unless those hard things were a part of Reece’s anatomy.

I smacked a hand over my mouth, but a giggle escaped nonetheless.

Reece was actually out there, waiting for me. He was here.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I did a little butt shimmy as I balled my hands into fists, clenching my teeth together to prevent a high-­pitch squeal from escaping. This went on for a good twenty seconds, and then I snapped out of, springing forward. What I wanted to do was shower, but that would seem too excessive and take too much time. Stripping down, I lotioned myself up until I was as soft and shiny as a baby seal, then pulled on a pair of fresh yoga pants and one of those camis with a built-­in bra.