Since Here Without You is the last installment of the Between the Lines series, I thought I'd present each of the main characters in the fourth book individually, over the series, in his/her point-of-view. This week: REID
For those of you who've been waiting patiently for this book - the first three are brief reminders. If you haven't read the first three, however, beware of spoilers.
Between the Lines (#1):
If I met you last night, and brought you back to my place, or followed you to yours, and we had sex, that’s what we asked for from each other. It’s what I got, and what you got. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Thanks for playing, and we’re done. If by some fluke anything was said at some point during this entire exchange that made me curious enough to see you again, I would.
Has that happened before? A couple of times. Did it last? Clearly, no.
Where You Are (#2):
Before we go our separate ways, we have a moment alone offstage. Now that the cameras are off her, she’s unfocused and preoccupied. “Emma.” Tipping her chin up, I lean quickly and kiss her, just a whisper of my lips on hers, and pretend not to notice that she’s already withdrawing when I pull away. “I’ll see you next week.”
Premiere night, I’ll likely have Emma where I want her—where I’ve wanted her since I first laid eyes on her. But I can’t assume she’ll come to me when she breaks it off with Graham. She’s just self-sufficient enough to slam the door on us both—she proved that well enough last fall. On the other hand, she’ll be more receptive if for no other reason than to thumb her nose at Graham over what he’s doing with Brooke.
Am I okay with being exploited like that and then tossed aside?
Good For You (#3):
I grip her elbows. “You needed me that night.”
She swallows. “I did. I did need you. But I can’t be that helpless somebody-save-me type of girl—”
“You’re not helpless. In fact you’re the most maddeningly self-reliant girl I've ever known—”
“How is that maddening?” she cries, pulling her elbows from my grip and wrapping her arms around herself.
“Because you won’t let yourself need me,” I say, the words echoing in my ears like the battle-cry of the co-dependent. “Both of us are so good at resisting being controlled, or having any control over someone else, that we don’t know how to need and be needed. I let myself believe I could get past what I felt for you, not because what I felt was insignificant, but because I always have. I don’t linger over relationships. Hell, I don’t have relationships. I didn't realize until I saw you in that club that I was no closer to getting over you than I’d been the last time I'd seen you."
Here Without You (#4):
Fifteen minutes later, she sends the photo to my phone. I've just arrived at George’s office when I pull it up and nearly walk into the glass door. “Watch out, dude!” a FedEx guy yells, waking me from my stupor in time to swerve.
Inside, I stop and stand motionless in the center of the glass and chrome atrium of my manager’s building. As I stare at the photo on my display, I realize one thing. This wasn't real. He wasn’t real. None of it was real—not until this moment.