I ended up spending Thanksgiving with Anastascia and her parents. They'd both been happy to have me and the holiday should've been the best I'd had since before my mother died. In Vegas, I always worked the holidays. The tips sucked, but there had usually been a bonus and the girls with families always appreciated it. Being with the Galaways was the closest thing to being with family I'd had in more than two years, but I hadn't been able to fully enjoy the experience.

I'd called Anastascia not long after Julien left and told her everything. She'd agreed that pushing Julien about what had happened wouldn't be right considering all he was going through. Instead, I sent him a text telling him I was here if he needed me, and then waited for him to initiate contact. By Tuesday, without a word, I gave in and called. It had gone to voicemail and I left a stumbling message, telling him I'd seen the funeral announcement in the paper and that I'd be there if he needed to talk. I told myself that I'd had a good reason to call and that, this time, I'd wait until he reached out first.

By Tuesday night, I tried texting. Then another two calls on Wednesday. I texted him on Thanksgiving, but received no response. Not even a cursory return of my 'Happy Thanksgiving' greeting. Friday, I placed two calls, though I'd been tempted to do more. I hated looking like I was needy, but the silence was unnerving. I was worried about him. I missed him. Now, I was walking into the church with Anastascia and had absolutely no clue how I was supposed to handle seeing him again.

“How do you want to play this?” Anastascia asked as we approached the receiving line at the front of the sanctuary.

“Damned if I know,” I muttered, biting the inside of my lip.

She and I got in line behind some people that I recognized from the cover of Forbes magazine. I'd only met Julien's parents once and didn't know anyone else in the family, so I kept things simple. A handshake and a murmur of condolences got me up to Mrs. Atwood. I repeated what I'd said before, but my “so sorry for your loss” was more heartfelt as I looked into her sad face. She was impeccably dressed, her hair and make-up perfect, but no matter how expertly it had been applied, I could still see the circles under her eyes. I remembered what Julien had said, how his parents had been arguing when his father collapsed. I could only imagine the guilt she must be feeling.

And then I was moving along and Julien was right there. A million questions came into my head, but I didn't let them out. He looked like he'd aged ten years since I'd last seen him, even though it had been only a week. My heart ached for him. I opened my arms and, after a brief hesitation, he stepped into my embrace.

“I'm so sorry,” I said.

I felt a tremor go through his body and his arms tightened around me for the briefest of moments. I inhaled deeply, indulging myself for a few seconds as his scent carried me back to that night. Then he was releasing me and taking a step a backwards, putting distance between us.

“Thank you for coming.” His voice was stiff and he didn't meet my eyes. He seemed to be looking everywhere but at me.

“Of course.” I was surprised that I managed not to let the words betray the stab of hurt that went through me. He was grieving. I had no right to have expectations of his behavior. I repeated that to myself as Anastascia and I found seats. It didn't lessen the pain and only made me feel guilty. It wasn't only my questions, though. Those were easier than I'd thought to hold back. No, I simply wanted to be there for him. Be his friend, as he’d always been to me. I wanted to put my arms around him and hold him, try to take away his pain.

“Piper.”

A low male voice said my name and I turned, starting to smile. The expression froze when I saw Reed taking a seat across the aisle. I forced myself to finish the smile. I still hadn't figured out how I felt about the other morning. Every time I tried to think about it, I started worrying about how Julien was doing. Reed really did have awful timing.

“Hi.”

“Can I talk to you?”

I shook my head. “Not now.” I gestured toward the front of the sanctuary where the family was moving to their seats.

“Do you know what you're going to say to Reed?” Anastascia whispered as a priest slowly walked across the platform to stand on the other side of the casket.

“Nope, not a clue.” I pulled my coat more tightly around my shoulders. Winter had come with a vengeance yesterday, blasting Philadelphia with cold air and flurries of snow too dry to stick. I'd only been in Vegas a couple of years, but the heat had made me forget what a real winter was like. The exterior chill just added to the interior cold I felt. I felt frozen with uncertainty.

Thankfully, Anastascia didn't try to pressure me into anything. She knew what a difficult time I was having and had been very supportive. What she hadn't been able to do, however, was tell me what I was supposed to do. I had a feeling there was an opinion she was keeping to herself for some reason, but I didn't push her on it. I wasn't sure I was ready to know what she truly thought anyway.

I tried to focus on what the priest was saying about Julien's father, hoping I could gain some insight into the family. It didn't take long to realize that the list of platitudes being spouted had nothing to do with the real man Julien had known. My attention wandered, alternating between sideways glances across the aisle to see if Reed was still looking at me – he was – and ones up front to see if I could deduce any sort of emotion from the back of Julien's head – I couldn't. All Julien's hair did was remind me what it had felt like, brushing against my thighs, wound between my fingers.

I squeezed my eyes closed and took a slow breath. Those were not thoughts I needed to be having at a funeral.

The service was nearly twice as long as the one I'd had for my mother and enough different that it barely reminded me of hers at all. That was some small comfort for me, I supposed. I knew Anastascia had been worried about that. I would've been too if I hadn't been so busy thinking about how my friend was doing. I understood the loss of a parent, though mine hadn't been a surprise.

The service ended and everyone watched in silence as the pallbearers helped take the casket down the aisle and out the front of the church. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reed trying to get my attention but I turned away from him. I knew I needed to talk to him at some point, but I wanted to figure out how I was feeling before I did.

“I need to use the restroom,” I whispered as the ushers started to dismiss people. I slipped out the far side of the pew and headed toward the stairs at the back, hoping to avoid the throng of people in the back. I'd only been in here once as a kid, but I was pretty sure I remembered where things were.

A few minutes later, I had to admit that I was wrong. I was near what I assumed was the priest's study, but didn't see any sign of a bathroom. I sighed. It'd probably be quicker to go back into the sanctuary and wait until we got back to my place than it would be to keep searching.

As I hurried around the corner, I wasn't watching where I was going and ran straight into a wall of solid muscle. Hands closed on my arms and I looked up to see almost-black eyes looking down at me.

“Reed.” My mouth was suddenly dry.

“Piper.” His voice was soft, a caress over the word that made me remember other, more intimate, times he'd said my name. “I'm glad I finally caught you.”

His hands burned through my shirt, heating my skin. I swallowed hard, wondering if he was going to try to kiss me... wondering if I'd let him. He released me and took a step back.

“I wanted to apologize for showing up at your house like that,” he said. “I was completely out of line. I never should've sprung things on you like that.”

I nodded. “It's okay. You just caught me off guard.” I didn't seem to know what to do with my hands. Finally, I settled for crossing them in front of me.

“Look, I don't want to fuck this up again.” His expression was earnest. “Go on a date with me this coming Friday. It'll be a real first date. We'll talk. No pressure.”

A chance to sit down and talk to him was a good idea. And a week would give me the time I'd need to start putting together a better picture of how I felt about what had happened with him and with Julien.

“No,” I said and watched his face fall. “Not a date, but I will have dinner with you… to talk.”

A smile broke across his face and I couldn't help but smile back. I might not know whether or not I still cared about him enough to want to try a relationship with him, but I did know that I liked seeing him happy.

He reached out and took my hand, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing it again. “I'll pick you up at seven, and we'll keep it casual.”

I nodded and watched as he walked away. I couldn't deny that he looked good in his suit. My stomach clenched as I remembered the way he looked out of it.

“Dammit,” I said to myself. “This is going to be a long week.”

I smoothed non-existent wrinkles from my dress pants and then started for the stairs. Before I took more than half a dozen steps, I caught a glimpse of someone hurrying by. I didn't need a close look to know that it was Julien. He'd seen me, I was sure of it, but now he didn't even look my way, confirming that he didn't want to talk to me.

I scowled. I really hoped this date with Reed would help me figure out what I wanted and that this distance Julien was putting between us would ease the awkwardness. I just wanted to move on with my life, but I had a bad feeling that was going to be easier said than done.