REID WASN’T AT the Music Junction on Sunday for the piano class. I’d debated whether to go at all, but after deliberating for all of five seconds, I’d decided I wasn’t letting him or anyone else scare me away this time. He’d told me before his surgery to fight for him, for us, and that was what I planned to do. I’d be there for him, through all of the confusion, all of his anger. Because the fact was that Reid remembered me. Not everything, not nearly everything, but he knew who I was to him now. Or who’d I’d been. And though our fate rested solely in his hands, I would do everything in my power to tip the scales and give us another chance.

But as I lifted the edge of the paper on the classroom door that indicated the lesson had been canceled for the day due to sickness, I sighed. Reid sure wasn’t making this easy, was he?

As I got back in my car, I weighed my options. I could go by his place to check on him, see if he really was sick or avoiding me. I could drive over to his parents’ place. Or I could call him and see if he needed any chicken soup.

Going with option number three, I scrolled down to Reid’s number and pressed the call button, and then I pulled out of the parking lot. A few seconds later, his voicemail picked up, and I hit end instead of leaving a message. I hadn’t actually expected him to answer, not after the way he’d left my place a few days ago. I was hoping giving him time to cool off and deal with what he’d learned was the smart thing to do, but I had no idea how to play this. I wasn’t ready to lose Reid again, not now, not ever, but I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare him off either.

I’ll wait, I decided, heading toward my house instead of stopping by unannounced at either of his probable destinations. Maybe I’d check in with his mom later, feel her out on his mindset and go from there.

Jesus, it’s hot, I thought, flipping the air up as the afternoon sun fried me from all sides. In my attempt to look nice for Reid, I’d worn a dress shirt with a pair of pressed slacks, but now the clothes felt stifling, and I unbuttoned the collar, finally able to breathe. I was more than ready to get into some worn jeans and a damn t-shirt. As I pulled into my neighborhood, “Love Bites” by Def Leppard came on, and I turned the volume up to deafening as I sang along. God, the chorus was accurate right about now. Love did fucking bleed and bring you to your knees, didn’t it? I was in the middle of belting a high note as I reached my house when my voice faltered at the sight in front of me.

Reid was sitting on my porch.

My mouth clamped shut as I switched off the radio. Well I’ll be damned.

When he saw me pull in, he stood up, dusting his shorts off. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so casual, but a white tank top, shorts, and flip-flops definitely worked for him. Fuckin’ hell, he was gorgeous, no matter what he wore. Or didn’t wear. Don’t think about that, for fuck’s sake. I kept my sunglasses on as I got out of the car, not wanting him to read too much into whatever look I threw his way, because I wasn’t sure what he’d see. Longing? Desire? Hurt? A combination of the three?

“Hi,” I said when I walked up, keeping things light as I came to a stop in front of him and assessed his mood. “Missed you at class today. You contagious?”

“Am I what?”

“The note on the door said you were sick.”

“Oh. I lied. I’m taking a mental health day.” Inclining his head toward the door, he said, “Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

He followed me inside, and I willed my hands not to shake, but fuck I was nervous. I didn’t know if it was a good thing he was here or not, or whether this visit would lead to somewhere good or somewhere I’d rather not think about. As we entered the living room, I tossed my keys on the entertainment center, and when I turned around, Reid regarded my outfit.

“You look”—he seemed to struggle for the word—“nice.”

“Thank you,” I said, surprised, but trying not to read too much into the fact that he’d noticed what I was wearing or that he thought I looked “nice.” “Actually, it’s a little warm, so I was gonna change into something a little more comfortable. Can you gimme a sec?”

“Okay.” He stood in the middle of the living room, not making a move to sit down, so I gestured around.

“Make yourself at home. Wherever.”

I changed quickly, and when I came back out, the door leading out onto the screened-in porch in the backyard was open, and I filled a couple of glasses with iced water before heading out to join Reid there. Without the sun shining down and with the fans going, it wasn’t too bad, and I was glad he’d decided to come out here. It felt too claustrophobic inside.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the glass I offered.

I settled into one of the Adirondack chairs across from him, set my glass on the table beside me, and waited for him to make the first move.

“Thanks for not slamming the door in my face. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”

“Slamming doors isn’t really my style.”

“No, of course not.” He shifted in his seat, crossing his ankles and then uncrossing them. “Ollie, I want to apologize for my behavior the other day. To say I was shocked might be the understatement of the year, and I reacted badly. I know I probably said some things that hurt you, and for that I’m so sorry.” He twisted his fingers in his lap. “I’ve been an asshole. Not just to you, but to everyone. I don’t want to be that way anymore.”

“I’d say that’s the first step to recovery.”

A hint of a smile lifted his lips. “I’m not going to run or freak out. Well…I may still freak out, I don’t know. But I want to understand.”

I could read between those lines: he wanted to understand me. Maybe even us. If he couldn’t hear the way my heart pounded, I would’ve been shocked.

“Okay,” I managed to say. “I accept your apology.”

His shoulders sagged in relief. “Good. That’s good.”

We fell into silence, with only the whir of the fans and the distant yells and laughing of neighborhood children playing to fill the space between us. I knew there was more weighing on his mind, but I was content to sit there with him for as long as he needed.

Eventually, he said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me lots of questions.”

“I gravitated toward you because you were familiar to me. That’s what my mom said.”

“You told me the same.”

“I did?”

I nodded.

“But”—his forehead wrinkled—“I’m not sure I follow. How can someone I never met be familiar?”

“Well, we saw each other at Joe’s.”

“That’s it? You were familiar because I passed you getting coffee every morning?”

“That and, you know, pulling you out of a wrecked car. You were coherent enough after your accident that you remembered me.”

Reid reared back in his chair. “Oh. I see.” He drummed his fingers along the edge of the armrest. “Did I ever thank you for that? For saving me that day?”

I smiled. “You have. Many times.”

“Right. Good. At least I never forgot my manners, huh?” he joked. I decided to go along with it, ease the nerves I could see manifesting in his movements.

“Yes, you were always very polite, even when you invited yourself along when I’d go for a run.”

His eyes went round. “No, I did not.”

“You did,” I said, chuckling.

“Oh my God.” He groaned and covered his face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. I wanted you around. Trust me.”

“But that sounds like pest behavior. Are you sure you weren’t just feeling sorry for me?”

“Definitely not,” I said, as he lifted his head. “I was flattered by your attention. I wanted more of it.”

Reid took a deep breath and bit down on his bottom lip, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. Was I supposed to remind him of my affection for him? Keep it friendly? There wasn’t a guidebook to steer me in the right direction of “how not to scare off your brain-injured exes,” so I was winging it the best I could.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said slowly. “I’d like to get to know you, Ollie. Again. If you’ll let me.”

I had to look down as the sting behind my eyes made it clear tears were well on their way, and I thought for a minute I’d need a defibrillator to jolt my heart back into beating. I never thought I’d hear those words from him. I never thought he’d be sitting across from me, ready and willing to open himself up again, and even though he still seemed hesitant and a bit shy, the fact that he was here meant everything.

“Ollie, I can’t…promise anything—”

“Stop,” I said, holding up my hand. “Just stop. I don’t expect anything from you, Reid. I’m not here to force you into spending time with me if that’s not what you want.”

“Is that what you want?”

I stared at him incredulously. “Of course it is.”

“Okay. Well, I certainly know that the dreams I’ve been having about us mean you don’t want to talk me out of it, so how about we just go with it for now?” he said, and my mouth fell open at his matter-of-fact tone. “Oh, and another thing—I’d like you to take me out driving.”

My jaw dropped even farther.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore, and what better person to be there if I have a panic attack than you, right?”

I was speechless. Utterly fucking speechless.

“So if it’s all right with you, maybe you can help me one night this week after work,” he said. It must’ve occurred to him then that I hadn’t agreed yet, because he frowned. “Have I shocked you mute? Nod once if you understand.”

I nodded once.

“Okay, nod twice if you’ll take me driving and play whatever song you were jamming out to when you pulled in today.”

Oh shit. I’d been busted. I nodded twice.

A smile crossed Reid’s face then, the first one I’d seen since he sat down, and it reminded me so much of the way he’d smiled at me before that it was like a physical tug on my heart. He scooted to the edge of his seat and held his hand out to shake mine. His long fingers were cool from where they’d been wrapped around the glass, a welcome relief from my always-scorching palms.

“Well, Ollie,” he said. “It looks like we have a deal.”