“Is that where this came from?” He took one of the flowers on her lei between his thumb and index finger and rubbed its fabric petals. His knuckle brushed the skin of her throat.
“Yes.” Charlotte swallowed. “But I think you need it more than I do.” She took off the lei. Reece obediently tilted his head down so that she could guide it over his head. “There you go. Now you’re properly dressed.”
“Hey, Reece,” Liam yelled from the tree. “You got lei’d!”
“Ha ha,” Reece replied with good humor. “Very original.”
Garrett’s glare caught her eye again. She gave him her best who, me? eyelash flutter. He scowled before taking a swig of his beer.
Reece, sweet summer child that he was, remained oblivious to the cold war between his two friends. “I think this brings out the color in my eyes,” he said, examining the lei’s petals.
Charlotte looked around hopefully. “Where’s Misty?”
“She’s back at the dorm. The noise is too much for her,” Reece answered. “Plus we didn’t want some asshole to steal her. That kind of shit happens during R&C weekend.”
She snorted. Reece had a point. Theft became an issue at the end of term when seniors got drunk and reckless. Most students limited their petty larceny to borrowing a university golf cart for a joyride and then dumping it somewhere random on campus. But occasionally the property theft tilted toward the severe. She recalled watching from a distance, horrified, as Ben and Thomas dragged someone’s La-Z-Boy back to their frat house during finals week.
But Ben was not at this party. She was at this party. She’d been personally invited, and she would enjoy it, goddamn it.
“You mentioned pong?” Charlotte reminded Reece.
“Oh right! Yeah, over here.” He led her to the patio underneath the porch, where an abandoned pong table sat in disarray. “There was a whole tournament, but people went inside.” He stacked up the dirty cups. Charlotte found new ones in a bag on the ground and set up two new pyramids. “I got my ass handed to me by some juniors working the reunion. Gen Z is ruthless.”
“Think you can take me?” she asked. “Or should we invite Garrett and Liam to play doubles?”
“Let’s play a round just us and then challenge someone.”
Maybe he had noticed the rift between her and Garrett after all.
Reece fished a pair of plastic water bottles from a pack under the table. “Mind if we play with water?”
“Not at all.” Charlotte took the one he extended to her. “I’ve had enough to drink. Do we have a ball?”
“Oh no!” Reece’s mouth dropped open in panic, but his green eyes sparkled with mischief. He grinned as he plucked a Ping-Pong ball from his pocket.
“Very funny.”
“Ladies first.”
He tossed the ball to her. Charlotte dunked it in the rinsing cup before lining up her shot. The ball sailed neatly into the center cup on Reece’s side of the table. She smirked and blew on her fingertips.
“Nice.” Reece retrieved the ball and rinsed it. He splashed it around while he drank his punishment cup.
“They didn’t play Carly Rae, by the way,” Charlotte said. “Your heart is safely unbroken.”
Reece raised an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure about that.”
She gave him a funny look. Weren’t they mutually pretending that they were in a suspended time zone where the events of graduation day had never happened?
“Oh?” she asked, keeping her voice neutral. “Why is that?”
He gestured to her face. “Looks like you found love at the disco.” She gave him a blank look until he explained. “You have a lipstick kiss on your cheek.”
“What? Oh!” Charlotte touched the lip print, her fingers coming away red. “I forgot that was there. That’s just Jackie.”
Reece smiled as he lined up his shot, keeping his eyes on her cups. “I’m happy for you both. What an exciting new chapter in your relationship.” The ball bounced off a rim and she caught it on the rebound.
“Two queer women can be friends and not bang,” Charlotte said. “I’m not her type anyway. She says I’m too bony.”
Reece snorted. “That girl does not mince words.”
Charlotte missed her shot. She watched Reece decide his next move, his face half in darkness underneath the porch. Stripes of light fell through the floorboards, catching his profile whenever he shifted to examine the field of play. Time had been kind to him, Charlotte decided: His skin had cleared up and his face was filled out in the right places. Even the way he stood was more grounded, less haphazard.
Stress kept his shoulders tight—his student debt, grad school, worry for his mom—but he seemed less ruled by it. He carried the pressure instead of staggering under its weight.
During college they had nothing in common: He majored in biology while she studied sociology and art; he came from a loving, tight-knit family, and she would have spent Thanksgiving break on campus alone if Jackie hadn’t dragged her to the Slaughters’ house. Reece had seemed like the kind of guy who would expect nothing from her beyond the obvious. Bros usually didn’t get attached. She wrote him off as a useful, attractive distraction. A partner in crime to blow off steam, to fool around, to drink too much and shield her from Ben’s shadow. The noise in her head got so loud when she was alone.
Charlotte should have known better. It was obvious to her now. In college she saw only what she wanted to see: his handsome face and broad chest, and how his eyes narrowed into lust-drunk slits before she kissed him.
“Gotcha,” Reece bragged as the ball splashed into one of her cups. He grinned at her, joy dancing in his eyes. “Drink up, Charlie.”
She drank her water. She sank a few more shots.
“You’re quiet tonight.” Reece rearranged the cups into a diamond for her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” And she was fine. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in the right place with the right person at the wrong time. “This weekend is intense.”
“It’s weird being back.” Reece caught the ball when she threw it too far. “Nothing and everything has changed.”
