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tossing it on a table. “I thought I’d surprise Stephanie with a late birthday trip,” he said, exchanging a knowing glance with Peyton, then running his fingers through his neatly-combed hair. “We’re just here for a couple nights. Thought we’d play tourist in New Orleans.”
    Reed watched as they talked, how Griffin stood closer to Peyton than to Stephanie, the way his eyes lingered on Peyton a few seconds too long, a familiarity between them, making Reed wonder if they were ever more than friends. Stephanie made a slight move to position herself next to Griffin, linking her arm with his.
    “I’m being so rude,” Peyton said. “Have a seat. Let me get you something.”
    Griffin moved to sit, but Stephanie grabbed his arm. “We aren’t staying,” she said. “Just wanted to stop by and say ‘hi.’”
    “We can stay a minute, honey. I would love a piece of Peyton’s pie.”
    He said what? Reed shifted in his chair and knocked his phone to the brick floor, catching Griffin’s attention. Their eyes bore into each other.
    Peyton took a small step forward and cleared her throat. “I guess you two know each other.” Each man gave the other a slight nod, but nothing more. Stephanie’s phone rang breaking the tension, and she excused herself outside the shop.
    Griffin draped his arm around Peyton. “Can you sneak me a piece to go? Apple, remember?”
    Reed’s stomach churned. Of course apple, you golden boy piece of shit . He looked out to Stephanie still on the phone, surrounded by a flock of Italian tourists, then turned back to find Griffin grazing Peyton’s hand while taking a box of pie. Stephanie tapped on the picture window with her phone, signaling she was beyond ready to leave. Griffin kissed Peyton on the cheek and left.
    Reed hung around another hour until the shop closed, stewing in his seat. It was bad enough to see Griffin’s hand around her waist in the photo, but seeing him hold her, kiss her, touch her — while Peyton smiled along — was so much worse. He knew when a guy — even if in a relationship already — wanted a girl. Is she this naive?
    Peyton took a long drink from a water bottle behind the counter. Reed’s phone rang, and he quickly hit decline. “You have a fuck buddy to go play with?” she teased.
    “Nope, I prefer to play with you.”
    Peyton started into the kitchen to clean up, and Reed followed behind, not about to be dismissed, not after watching her with Griffin. She struggled to lift an enormous bag of flour. “Let me get that,” he said, quickly taking the bag from her, squeezing too tightly, a dense cloud of flour spraying into his face. Peyton bit her lip not to laugh, as he placed the bag on the metal island.
    “So you don’t love these women?”
    Reed dusted himself off. “God, we’re back to this? No.”
    “Have you ever been in love?”
    “No.” His phone rang again, and he switched it to vibrate, placing it on the counter. “You?”
    Peyton shook her head. “Why no relationships? Why just sex?” Reed shrugged. “Is it that you don’t know, or that you don’t want to tell me?”
    Reed cast his eyes down. The last thing he wanted to do was get into any touchy-feely nonsense, but he knew if he was ever going to get dinner — or more — he’d have to open up a little, to show her something like she asked this morning. He took a seat on a stool by the island. “I guess I’m just like my dad — at least that’s what everyone always says.” Reed reached for his neck and looked up at her beautiful, searching eyes, her silence beckoning him to continue. He swallowed hard. “My dad slept around. I actually caught him when I was about 14.”
    Reed couldn’t believe the words came out of his mouth. Peyton seemed to have some magical effect on him, getting fully underneath his skin. He’d never told anyone about his father before, though it was common gossip in and around New Orleans, where everyone seemed to know everyone — and to know