Reese adjusted the delicate cuff of her satin blouse, the black fabric catching the soft light of her vanity. The blouse's long laced sleeves clung gracefully to her arms, the neckline dipping just enough to show a hint of collarbone. She paired it with high-waisted tailored pants that emphasized her silhouette and slipped into her favorite strappy heels. A light bronze leather jacket rested on the arm of the chair, ready for the cool November evening.
Her phone buzzed.
6:58 PM Collin: I'm outside. Take your time though.
She grabbed her purse and stepped outside, the crisp LA air carrying a faint trace of wood smoke and jasmine. Collin was leaning casually against his car, his hands in his jacket pockets, his dark hair catching the glow of the streetlights.
He looked up as she approached, his gaze lingering for a moment before his lips curved into an easy smile. "Wow," he said softly, his voice almost reverent.
"Good evening to you too," Reese replied, her tone light but her heart skipping a beat.
Collin opened the passenger door, and she slid inside, the scent of his cologne—a warm blend of cedarwood and spice—filling the car as he joined her.
"So, this spot you found," she teased, "is it going to top my last favorite?"
"Bold of you to assume it hasn't already," he replied with a crooked grin.
Reese chuckled. "I'm just relieved to know I won't be serenaded by saxophones all night. I love jazz but I've definitely had my fill for at least a year."
"Well, no promises, there," he quipped, his grin widening. "But I think you'll like this place. It's… quieter."
The venue he'd chosen was tucked away in a quiet stretch of Silver Lake, the kind of place you wouldn't notice unless someone told you to look. Warm lights glowed from within as they approached, the low hum of conversation drifting out through the open doors.
Inside, the bar exuded understated charm—exposed brick walls, wooden tables, and dim lighting that made everything feel softer, more intimate. A small stage sat at the far end, where a guitarist tuned her instrument, her fingers plucking a few chords.
Collin led her to a corner table, pulling out her chair before settling across from her. Reese glanced around, taking in the cozy ambiance.
"Well, this is nice," Reese said glancing around.
"I thought you might like it" Collin said with a hint of pride as he motioned for the waiter.
Reese picked up the menu and scanned the options. "I'll have a Château Le Pin," she said confidently, her voice lifting slightly as she pronounced the wine selection in perfect French.
À la bouteille ou acheter le verre," the waiter responded, clearly impressed.
"Le verre. Merci," Reese smiled.
"Très bien."
Collin chuckled, leaning back in his seat as the waiter left to put in their drink orders. "Still doing the accent, huh? Some things never change."
Collin's chuckle made her smile, and Reese leaned back slightly, shaking her head. "What can I say? Old habits die hard." She raised her eyebrow playfully. "You were always so impressed with my accent."
He leaned in slightly, his gaze warm as he nodded. "You did pronounce everything like you were ordering from a Parisian café. It's a shame it doesn't extend beyond the drink menu."
Reese laughed softly, "well that's what counts. Besides you never minded. You said it was cute."
Collin's expression softened, his eyes meeting hers, "I still think it is."
The waiter brought their drinks and small plates to share—bruschetta, grilled shrimp, and a creamy artichoke dip that Reese couldn't resist. Conversation came easily, their words flowing like an unbroken melody, punctuated by laughter.
So," Reese began, her lips curving into a small smile, "risotto was your go-to cooking experiment?"
Collin groaned, shaking his head. "In my defense, I thought it would be easy."
"Did it work out?" she asked, arching a brow.
He laughed. "If you consider glue-like sludge 'working out,' then sure. It was a masterpiece."
Reese grinned, resting her chin on her hand. "I'm impressed you even tried. The last time you cooked for me, you burned toast."
"Hey, that was years ago," he said, feigning offense. "I've improved. I can even scramble eggs now without setting off the smoke alarm."
"Progress," she teased, sipping her wine.
The music swelled softly in the background, the guitarist's voice low and melodic. Reese leaned back in her chair, letting the warmth of the moment wash over her. Collin watched her, his gaze steady and thoughtful.
"You're different you know," he said suddenly.
Reese blinked, surprised. "Different how?"
He hesitated, searching for the right words. "More… self-assured. Confident. It suits you."
She tilted her head, her smile softening. "I had to be. After everything fell apart, I didn't have much of a choice."
Collin's expression grew serious, his fingers tracing the edge of his glass. "I think about that a lot—what happened back then. How I handled things… how I hurt you." He exhaled deeply. "I know I can't undo it, but I want to do better this time."
Reese's chest tightened. She studied him for a long moment, "I guess we'll just have to continue to see," she said finally, her tone light but edged with caution, "but this is nice," she smiled warmly.
"Yes, it is," Collin nodded, seeming to understand without pressing further.
The drive back to her condo was quieter, the comfortable hum of the car engine filling the space between them. Reese glanced at Collin occasionally, taking in the way he seemed relaxed but attentive, his hand resting lightly on the gear shift.
When they pulled into her driveway, Reese hesitated before speaking. "Do you want to come in for a drink?"
Collin's brows lifted slightly, but he nodded. "If, you're sure."
She nodded, stepping out of the car and leading the way inside. Loki, ever the shadowy presence, appeared as soon as they entered, winding around her ankles with a lazy stretch.
"Still the king of the castle, huh?" Collin remarked, shrugging off his jacket.
"Always," Reese replied with a soft laugh, scratching behind Loki's ears before heading to the kitchen.
She poured them each a drink—whiskey for him, a splash of wine for herself—and joined him on the sofa. The city lights twinkled through the windows, casting a faint glow over the room.
Collin turned slightly toward her, his drink resting on the coffee table. "Tonight was good," he said, his voice quiet.
"It was," Reese agreed, tucking her legs beneath her as she leaned back.
Their eyes met, and the weight of the moment settled between them. Collin reached for her hand, his touch warm and steady. He leaned in closer, his gaze locking with hers.
"I've missed this," he said softly, his voice filled with a vulnerability that made Reese's heart skip a beat. "You. Us."
Reese's breath hitched as his closeness stirred something deep and familiar within her. His hand moved to her face, his thumb tracing her jaw gently as his gaze searched hers. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her body, but just as their lips were about to meet, a vivid flash of Christian's face suddenly filled her mind—his intense gaze, his sharp features, the way his presence had once overwhelmed her. It was enough to make her heart race in a different way, a way that brought uncertainty rushing to the surface. She froze, instinctively pulling back from Collin, her breath catching in her throat.
"Collin…" she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
"Yes…," he murmured, leaning in closer, his lips just a breath away from hers. His eyes remained locked on hers, full of intent, but Reese couldn't shake the image of Christian in her mind. She placed a trembling hand on Collin's chest, halting him before the moment could escalate.
"I'm not ready," she breathed, pulling back just a fraction, her hand still resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath her touch.
Collin stilled immediately, his expression softening, his hand lingering for a moment on her cheek before he gently withdrew. "Okay," he said quietly, his voice steady yet warm. "I'll wait."
Reese exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her chest tightening as relief and tension swirled inside her. She leaned back, giving herself the space she needed. The electricity in the room didn't dissipate entirely, but it softened into something quieter, more patient.
She met his gaze again, her heart still racing, but now with a mix of gratitude and hesitation. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
"You don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice firm but gentle. "I told you—I'm not going anywhere."
Reese nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips and leaned back against the couch, her fingers absently playing with the hem of her sleeve. They sat in silence for a while, both letting the weight of the moment settle before he decided to go home. She had stopped herself, and now she just needed to make sure she wasn't running from what felt so right in this moment.