I have no idea if we actually need gas or if he just needs to cool off, but since I need a breather myself, I don’t protest as he pulls into a gas station.

Reece climbs out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and I blow out a long breath, shoving my hair away from my face.

Not how I thought that conversation was going to go. I was just trying to figure out where his head was at. He’s so damn closed off all the time.

A quick glance over my shoulder shows that the pump is still running, but he’s got his arms crossed, and his scowl is fierce.

Not in a chatty mood. Fine.

I climb out of the car, stretching my legs and intending to make my move to take over driving for a while. Anything to distract myself from the real reason I’d pushed Reece into that conversation.

I thought that maybe if I could figure out what he wants out of life, I could figure out if there might be room for me in it.

Because I can’t deny it any longer. I want Reece Sullivan in my life.

I just have to figure out how he fits.

Chapter 32

LUCY, TEN, REECE, ELEVEN

“Yuck, I got an orange one. Trade?” she asked, holding out her Popsicle to Reece and staring longingly at his purple one.

He rolled his eyes. “You know it says the flavor on the wrapper. You could just read.”

Even as he said it, he reached out and traded her orange Popsicle for his much preferable grape one.

They were sitting on the old Big Toy. Mostly unused these days, except by Brandi and her friends. Rarely did Lucy and Reece sit here together as they had on that first day after Reece’s mom had died.

Lucy looked at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he was thinking about the sad memory, but he looked more interested in his Popsicle than anything.

Reece had come for a sleepover with Craig, but Craig had gotten sick less than hour after Reece arrived, barfing up all his grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Lucy felt terrible for thinking it, but she was a little bit glad that Craig got sick. She never had Reece all to herself.

“So what’s up?” he asked.

She fiddled with the Popsicle wrapper and tried to think of something to talk to him about that wouldn’t seem too babyish or girlish.

“My class had a career day today. Shelley’s dad is a firefighter and he brought in a real hose for us to look at.”

“Cool.”

He didn’t sound that impressed.

“My mom came in too. To talk about grapes.”

He looked a little more interested in that. “I like grapes.”

She gave a sheepish look at the grape Popsicle she’d stolen from him, and quickly changed the subject. “You want to go into the industry?”

The industry around their town referred to the wine business. According to Lucy’s mom, Charlottesville, Virginia, was an up-and-comer on the wine scene.

“Yeah, I guess,” Reece said, finishing off his Popsicle and chewing idly on the flat wooden stick. “My dad used to work at the wineries, and his old boss came over the other day. Told me to call him if I ever wanted a job.”

“So that’s what you want to be when you grow up?” she asked eagerly. She loved talking about being a grown-up. “A winemaker?”

He looked annoyed and shrugged. “I guess. I don’t care.”

Lucy was puzzled. How could he not care? “I want to sell people the wine,” she said, hoping that if she told him her dreams, he’d tell her his. “And I’ll wear tall shoes, and I’ll wear a skirt every day, and my hair will be perfect,” she said, running a hand over her chronically messy ponytail.

“Cool.”

Lucy frowned. “What about you? What do you want?”

“I just told you. To get a job.”

“No, I know, but like who do you want to be?” she asked. “What do you dream about? What’s your endgame?”

Reece scratched his head. “Endgame?”

Lucy nodded enthusiastically, excited to share her new vocabulary. “It’s from chess. My grandpa taught it to me. It’s like the final stage of your plan.”

Reece turned and gave her a stare so flat it made her tummy hurt. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t have an endgame.”

Lucy’s tummy hurt harder. “But surely there’s something you want?”

His small shoulders shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter. I never get anything I want.”

Chapter 33

Reece

“Okay, I’ve gotta say, we really should have started the whole sharing-a-room plan earlier,” Lucy says, setting her bag down in the Las Vegas hotel room. “The bathroom in this place is bigger than last night’s motel room.”

I don’t argue as I drop my own bag, going to the wide windows and looking out at the Las Vegas Strip. We’d splurged on a room at the Paris hotel, and Lucy had sweet-talked the front desk into an enormous suite facing the Bellagio fountains.

I’m not much of a gambler, so Vegas has never been on my bucket list or anything, but I have to admit, it’s pretty cool.

Lucy comes up behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist, and my hand finds the top of her hand, and I feel a little stab of panic about how natural the gesture feels.

Don’t get used to it, man.

It’s a refrain I’ve been playing on repeat over the past few days as our routine’s gone from circling each other like wary animals, to, well…screwing like animals.

And that’s not even accurate. Not really. Sure, we kept each other up all night long in both Cheyenne and Salt Lake motel rooms, but the days have been pretty great too.