Reed by Sawyer Bennett

  I sip my coffee and go back to reading the news. After ten minutes, I'm thoroughly depressed and shut the laptop down. I stand from the chair, ignore my puzzle, which is what I really want to do, and head into my kitchen for another cup of coffee. Halfway there, I'm frozen by a knock on my door.

  Without knowing for sure, I just know it's Reed. I've got no close friends here who would just stop by, and I know none of the other neighbors. Unless it's someone selling something, it has to be Reed, and this is a gated community, so there are no unwanted solicitors.

  I set my cup on the table as I walk through the living area. My town home layout is similar to his. The units are long and narrow. The main floor is just the living room leading into a kitchen with a powder room to the side. Upstairs there are two bedrooms, one on the front and one on the back. Downstairs is a bonus room that I set up a small office in, but I hardly ever go down there. I prefer to sit at my kitchen table or my couch with my laptop if I have to catch up on reports or respond to emails.

  Going to my tiptoes and leaning in, I put my eye to the peephole.

  Yup. Hot, charming hockey player on the other side.

  So damn charming. Buying pizza and making fireworks available to me. A jigsaw puzzle, which we worked on for about half an hour before large yawns caused him to chase me out of his house.

  After a deep breath, I open the door and give him a brilliant smile. "Morning, neighbor."

  "Morning," he says with an answering smile, then pushes right past me into my house.

  "Come on in," I mutter, but secretly I have to say this is a nice surprise.

  Reed chuckles as he walks right through my living room and into the kitchen. I watch bemused as he roots around in my cupboards until he finds a mug and pours himself a cup of coffee.

  "Cream is in the fridge," I say as I walk in behind him and head to the coffeepot to refill my own mug.

  "Just black," he says, and blows over the top of the liquid. He takes a small sip and makes a grunt of what I think is appreciation.

  I take mine black too, so I lean a hip against the counter and take a tiny sip of mine before asking, "So, what's up? Nothing better to do than bug me?"

  Reed grins. "Well, I had a date with Porn Star Barbie today, but just wasn't feeling it."

  My nose wrinkles. "Ewwww."

  "Just kidding," he says with a laugh. "It was actually Catholic School Girl Barbie, but frankly, knee socks and those dorky little black shoes really aren't my thing."

  I smirk, because I know he's kidding about all of it. Clearly, this Barbie thing is going to be a running joke between us...us...friends? Buds? Neighbors?

  I give a small mental shake of my head.

  Friends. We are definitely friends. Night before last we ate pizza and joked around while working on a puzzle. We did what people typically do when getting to know each other. Talked about our families and how we grew up, finding that our backgrounds were very similar.

  Both of us are from fairly affluent families. My dad's a doctor, his is a lawyer. I have a sister, he has a brother, but our extended families are swollen with aunts, uncles, cousins, and babies galore.

  It was an easygoing night, and as I was walking back home, exhausted and ready for a shower and bed, I realized that it had all been so natural and easy. There was no awkwardness, and conversation wasn't stilted. Perhaps because there was no expectation that it was anything more than pizza, fireworks, and puzzles, but I spent maybe a little over an hour there with him and realized it was one of best hours I'd had in a very long time.

  It's a solid basis for a friendship, I decide, and that's good enough for me. Besides, what else would it be? As much as we joke about it, Reed definitely has a type, and I'm not it. And let's be real, he's not my type either. I usually go for the intellectual type, although that's not to say Reed is dumb. I found him to be very smart, but I'm not sure he'll ever be the kind to discuss whether or not what we perceive is reality or just a construct of our minds.

  "You ready to go?" Reed asks, and I start blinking rapidly to focus in on him.

  "Huh?"

  "We got places to go," he says nonchalantly. "I see you're already dressed and ready, so let's go."

  I shake my head, blink again. "I'm sorry...but did we make plans I forgot about?"

  "It's called spontaneity, Doc," he replies with a grin. "It's your day off, so let's go do something spontaneous."

  "Like what?" I ask suspiciously.

  "Like whatever we want," he replies as if that was the dumbest question in the world. "But I do have one place I need to stop by first. You're not allergic to dogs, are you?"

  "No," I say hesitantly, wondering what I'm getting myself into. I cast a glance at my jigsaw puzzle before looking back to Reed.

  "Good. That will make it infinitely more enjoyable to you."

  --

  "Are you ready to go?" Reed asks for maybe the third time in the last hour.

  "Not yet," I say as I cuddle with a tiny ball of golden fluffiness. The puppy's tongue starts lashing at my chin and I can't help but laugh because it tickles. "God, I love the smell of puppy breath."

  "This wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had," Reed grumbles as he squats down before me, sitting his big body next to mine against the wall.

  The crazy, wonderful man brought me to a puppy adoptathon sponsored by the local SPCA. He's the celebrity who's supposed to draw people in, but he was told he only needed to stay for an hour. I've been having too much fun with the puppies, so we've been here a little over two hours.

  "Sorry," I say with a laugh as I rub the soft fur of the chubby little dog in my lap. "But we never had pets growing up, and I was always too busy in college and med school. I'm getting a long overdue fix."

  Reed chuckles and leans his head back against the wall. Almost all of the puppies have been adopted, including the one in my lap. I'm just cuddling with him--or maybe a her--while her new owner fills out the paperwork.

  "We always had a dog growing up," Reed tells me, and I can hear the fondness in his voice. "Usually some type of mutt my mom would bring home from a shelter."

  "You miss having one?" I ask him.

  "Yeah," he says wistfully. "But there's just no way I could care for one during the regular season."

  "I couldn't do it either. Not when I'm away for more than twelve hours at a time."

  "Look at us," he quips as his head rolls on the wall to face me. "Both unlucky in dog love."

  I give him a sage nod, and in a serious voice, I suggest, "You should totally do more of these adoptathons so we can come and get our puppy fixes."

  "Deal, banana peel," he says, then pushes up from the floor. "But seriously, we need to go. We have more stuff to do."

  "What stuff?" I ask, not budging an inch. I want to hold on to wriggling puppy goodness for as long as I can.

  "We'll grab some lunch," he says as he pulls his keys out of the front pocket of his shorts. They're khaki, well-worn and frayed at the edges. He paired them with a T-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. With his messy blond hair and several days' worth of facial hair growth, he looks like he's a professional beach bum and not a hockey player. "Then we're going skydiving."

  "You're high as hell," I blurt out as I level a stony look at him. "I'm not going skydiving."

  "Bungee jumping?" he asks.

  "Nope."

  "Drag racing?"

  "Nope."

  "You're no fun, Doc," he says with a laugh, then holds his hands out to me. "Cough up the puppy, because I really am starving."

  "But we're not doing anything death defying, right?"

  Reed gives an exaggerated sigh and eye roll. He makes a grabby hand motion for the dog but says, "I promise. Nothing death defying."

  --

  "We're going to have to take a cab home," I tell Reed in all seriousness just before I polish off what might be my fifth beer, but I can't remember. While I did my fair share of partying in school, it's been awhile since I tied one on.

 
"You really haven't been out much lately, have you?" Reed asks as he lounges in the booth seat opposite me with his back against the wall and one leg stretched out over the seat. We just finished a really long lunch where he ordered each of us a beer. It tasted good, and when the waitress asked if we wanted another, we both said yes.

  Five beers later and I'm toasted.

  "What's wrong with taking a cab home?" I return a question to him with a disapproving look. "I'm sure it's still a popular concept today that drinking and driving's not cool. You're a public figure. You can't afford to get a DWI--"

  "Relax there, Ranger Josie," Reed says with a laugh as he holds a hand up. "I was only talking about the fact that cabs are passe. Everyone does Uber now."

  "Oh. Well, yes...I've heard of Uber, but never have taken one. Aren't they dangerous?"

  "I can promise you no one is going to hurt you while I'm around," he says gallantly. "Besides, the drivers are well vetted and it's as safe as a cab. Cheaper too."

  "I didn't take you as a bargain shopper," I say as I rub my thumb on the condensation of my pint glass. I should switch to water or I'm going to have a massive headache tomorrow.

  "I'm not," he clarifies. "But it's easier to schedule an Uber on their app than to call for a cab."

  "Huh. Learn something new every day."

  Reed chuckles and turns his head to look across the restaurant. We ended up going to an Irish publike restaurant, and the Smithwick's went down way too fast. Reed motions to a waitress and she comes over.

  "Would ye two like another?" she asks in a lilting Irish accent.

  Reed shakes his head and leans to the side slightly to pull his wallet out. "Just the check."

  The waitress turns away and I open my purse and reach for my wallet, but I'm stopped when Reed says, "Put that away, Josie."

  "I'll pay for my share," I tell him.

  "I've got this. My treat."

  "Why?" I ask somewhat belligerently. If I were out with any of my girlfriends, we'd pay for our own meals.

  "Because I'm super rich and I want to," he says smoothly.

  "Fine," I grumble as I shove my wallet back into my purse. "But next time, I'm buying."

  "Suit yourself," he says with a shrug of his shoulders, completely dispelling any thoughts I might have that this was a date. Which is fine by me. I've had a blast today with my new buddy, Reed Olson.

  "So, what's next on the agenda?" I ask Reed after he schedules an Uber on his phone app, pays the bill, and we slide out of the long booth.

  "We get you home," Reed says as his hand sweeps out for me to precede him from the restaurant. "You can relax the evening with a jigsaw puzzle or something."

  I start walking past a row of booths and into the pub area, which we have to traverse to get to the exit door. "What are you going to do?"

  "Got plans tonight," he says with such finality that I feel like he's telling me it's none of my business. But I've never been one to heed warnings like that.

  "Which Barbie is it this time?" I ask over my shoulder as I wind my way through patrons standing around in the bar area.

  Reed chuckles and tugs on my hair from behind. "I'm going out with some buddies of mine tonight. No Barbies."

  I smile to myself and start to look back at him to make some type of smart-ass comment that falters when someone runs into me. It knocks me backward into Reed, whose hands immediately go to my hips to hold me steady. Still, my entire backside is pressed to his front side for a brief and flush-inducing moment.

  "Hey, asshole...how about apologizing?" Reed growls at someone. I look up to see a big, beefy guy standing there looking at Reed blankly.

  He's looking blankly because he's not comprehending he did anything wrong, and I'm going to guess that's because he's drunk.

  I turn around to face Reed, tilting my head to look up at him. He's staring fiercely over my head at the guy with what looks like a need to do bodily harm.

  "It's okay, Reed," I say as I place a hand on his chest. "I'm fine."

  For a brief moment, Reed doesn't acknowledge me, but continues to glare at the man who knocked into me. I have no clue what he's doing, as I'm afraid to look away from Reed.

  Finally, his face tilts and he brings his eyes to mine. He studies me for a moment before giving a curt nod. I sigh with relief as Reed grabs my hand and leads me around the guy, muttering to him, "Watch where you're going next time, dude."

  To my relief, the guy says nothing and I'm guessing either he was thoroughly put in his place or maybe he recognized Reed and was starstruck, but we manage to make it out to the parking lot unscathed.

  "You sure you're okay?" Reed asks as we walk toward a small white sedan I assume is our Uber driver. He hasn't let go of my hand yet and it feels both right and slightly awkward.

  "I'm totally fine," I reassure him, and wait for him to drop his hold on me.

  He doesn't, though, until we reach the back door and he opens it for me. I slide in and he steps in after me. After he closes the door, I look to him to find that his brows are drawn inward as if he's still angry. Reed rattles off his address to the driver and we pull away from the restaurant.

  "What's the sour look for, Olson?" I say teasingly, hoping to draw him out of his funk.

  That's all it takes. His face relaxes bit and he turns his head to smile at me. "I just hate drunk assholes that don't watch what they're doing. Besides, he was openly leering at you as you were walking toward him. Pretty sure he knocked into you on purpose."

  That makes me blink in surprise, both that someone was leering at me and that Reed would take offense to it. Surely that's not what it was.

  "I'm sure he wasn't leering at me," I say dismissively but lightly so he knows this really isn't a big deal.

  "He was totally checking you out inappropriately," Reed says adamantly, and I'm warmed clear to my toes when he adds, "You got the whole Hot Doctor Barbie thing going on today."

  Still, I refuse to read anything into this, so I downplay it. "I look nothing like a doctor right now."

  "Yeah, but I know you're a doctor," he says suggestively with a waggle of his eyebrows. "And you got the hot thing for sure going on."

  "I'm not hot--"

  "You're totally hot and you know it," he smirks. "Just like you think I'm hot. Nothing wrong with two hot friends hanging out, right?"

  "Right," I say with a firm nod of my head. "Want me to protect you from any Barbie dolls that come on to you?"

  "Hmmm," he says as he looks upward pensively. When he looks back to me, eyes are sparkling with mischief, he says, "You better let me check them out first before you make any command decisions to run them off."

  I reward him with an elbow to his ribs and take great satisfaction when he grunts from the hit.

  We end up chatting on the way home. He tells me he's going to a Durham Bulls game with two of his teammates, Marek Fabritis and Holt Craig. I pretend to act dumb and ask him about the guys, but I know a little bit about them. I may have read up on the Cold Fury since meeting Reed and I recognize their names. I figure if I'm going to be neighbors with Reed, I could be a more dedicated fan I suppose. Besides, I do nothing but work and sleep, so this expands my horizons.

  When the Uber driver pulls up in front of Reed's town home, I can't even offer to pay since it's done through the app on Reed's phone.

  We get out and Reed actually walks me up to my door. As I'm pulling my keys out, he casually says, "Be ready to go tomorrow at 8 P.M."

  My head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

  "Tomorrow, 8 P.M. I'm taking you to a Cold Fury party. Every member of the team gets to spend a day with the Stanley Cup, and tomorrow there's going to be a huge party at our captain Alex Crossman's house."

  "Are you telling me or asking me?" I stare at him reproachfully.

  He merely chucks me under my chin and laughs. "You're adorable. Be ready at eight to have some fun."

  And before I can accept, because it sounds fun, or decline, because that's just rude to assume I d
on't already have plans tomorrow, he bounds down my porch steps, cuts right, and runs right up his. He shoots me a wink before stepping inside, while I just stare dumbly at him.

  Chapter 5

  Reed

  "I can't believe you seriously did that to me," I mutter out of the side of my mouth to Josie. It's the first time tonight I've been alone with her.

  She laughs mischievously and looks up at me. She's sipping from a bottle of water, as she's on call tonight, and she waves it at me. "You all but dared me to set you up on a date, Reed."

  This was true, and I'm regretting it now.

  "Yeah, well...what I imagined a Doctor Barbie to be and what you imagined are two different things."

  Josie laughs again, and in this moment, I realize she intentionally set me up with the dullest person she could find. Granted, the woman is a knockout and has the tall, busty, and blond thing going on, but past that...I almost fell asleep talking to her tonight.

  I was really proud of myself for strong-arming Josie into coming to Alex and Sutton's party. This entire summer is going to be party after party as the Cup circulates its way through the organization, every person getting a day with it to do what they want. Tradition demands you throw a hell of a party, and I knew Josie would have a good time.

  I knew I'd have a good time, but it would be even better with Josie there, because I've found out these past seven days since the pool that she is a hell of a lot of fun. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. I also like looking at her, an added bonus.

  What I did not count on was when I showed up at her door to pick her up she had someone there with her. She invited me in and then promptly introduced me to her fellow ER doctor Kathy Krantz. Not going to lie, but that first visual impression was good. She was smokin' hot. But the minute I heard her voice--all flat and monotone--I knew I was in for a bad evening.

  I was able to shoot a glare at Josie when Kathy went to the restroom before we left. She just shrugged and said, "What? When I told you I didn't want to impose on this team event, you told me that it was open invitation and you were allowed to bring whoever you wanted. So I thought it would be the perfect time to set you up with someone who had a bit more going on upstairs."

  And Kathy is smart, no doubt. But she's like that teacher in Ferris Bueller's Day Off who speaks in that nasally, monotone, drawling voice, "Bueller, Bueller, Bueller."