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Stupid Boy

Page 29

   


“What then?” he asked, and returned to his back, facing the plane jetting overhead. “If you didn’t have your family pushing you into pre-law,” his gaze found mine in the moonlight, “and I’d be willing to bet a grand that’s the case, then what would Harper Belle want to do with her life?”
That he’d guessed that didn’t sit well with me, either. But for some reason I didn’t think anything I said to Kane McCarthy would get back to Winston University. “I really like taking pictures,” I finally said, and thought about the used camera I’d saved up to buy. The pictures I’d secretly driven hours away to capture. I kept it to myself, though. No one knew but me. I looked at him. “I’m a novice, though. Just learning.” I studied him. “And if Kane McCarthy wasn’t busy taking illegal bets for the Kappas, what would he want to do?”
Kane joined me on his back, staring skyward. “Hmm. Honestly?” He was silent for a moment as he thought. “You won’t believe it.”
“Tell me,” I urged.
“A cop.”
We were both silent after that. Until Kane’s voice broke through the night.
“Funny,” he said softly, and kind of surprised. “I have a feeling we both just did something completely out of the ordinary for either of us.”
He didn’t even have to explain, because I was thinking it myself.
And only then did I realize we’d been in the dark this whole time, and I’d actually forgotten the terror of it.
I had the light in my hand. In my power. My control.
But with Kane beside me, it hadn’t seemed to matter so much.
She knew as little about me as I did about her. Well, almost. I had done a little research, asked some questions—although Olivia Beaumont had been tight-lipped about almost everything. Ask her yourself, she’d said. Brax, of course, had said, Leave her the fuck alone, Kane, and I fuckin’ mean it. But I couldn’t. She’d burned my brain from the moment I’d asked her for directions. I had a strong feeling Harper and I both could read into the masks we each wore. The shields we each locked in place. The reason I knew this was because people who did that—shielded and masked—could almost always spot another kindred spirit. It was a gift, I supposed. Sort of how I could immediately spot another product of the foster system.
Harper Belle was a complex soul. She hid something behind that broken smile, and it wasn’t pretty. She had a lot of people fooled, no doubt. But not me. I recognized it as clearly as I recognized my own demons. All that richy-rich, affluent family shit? Yeah, she might have been raised in that environment, but that’s not who she was. She was something else entirely.
And she completely fascinated me.
It wasn’t so much her looks—which were beyond beautiful to me. It was the beauty that lay behind the perfect skin, the striking eyes, and the lithe runner’s body. It was…something I almost couldn’t put my finger on. Strange, though, when it came down to it, I’d label it as pain. The pain that lay just below the surface of the beauty. It intrigued me. Made me want to step in, stop that pain, and kick anyone’s ass who had caused it.
“You’re very different from your brother,” she said in that delicate Texas drawl. Which also fascinated me. I could see now why Brax was so crazy about Olivia’s.
“I am?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. She pushed her hair behind her ear, and I balled my fingers together to keep from doing it for her.
“How am I then?” I prodded, curious.
“Well,” Harper continued. I noticed the way her brows bunched together in the middle when she thought about something. “Brax is loud. Obnoxious. Swears profusely, although it seems like since he met Olivia, it’s a little less.” She looked at me. “Don’t get me wrong—I think he’s a really great, really intelligent guy. He’s just…so much harsher than you.”
I watched her, intrigued by the movement of her mouth, and the way her teeth pulled at her lips when she wasn’t sure about something. I wanted to kiss her. In a bad, bad way. But I didn’t dare. Not now. So I lightened the mood. “You sayin’ I’m a wimp?”
She laughed, and for once it sounded sincere. “No. You’re more like a silent storm. You have a quiet sort of strength,” she said, and I watched her profile beneath the watery moonlight. “Even your accent doesn’t sound as harsh as Brax’s. I don’t know, you kind of have a sort of wisdom that is extraordinary, I guess. Brax is loud. Uses his fists. You actually look like you use your fists, but you don’t. Or…” She gave me a quick look, and her widened eyes nearly made me laugh. “Do you?”
“It’s rare that I have to,” I assured her.
“I thought so,” she said on an exhale. “You…think things through. Demand respect through your silence. Using only your eyes.” She looked at me, and the way her face scrunched up as she peered at me in the moonlight, inspecting me closely, sank straight through me. She was incredibly perceptive. “You speak a lot through your eyes. That’s sincere power.” She stared at the darkened sky. “Impressive.”
So she had me semi-pegged. That, to me, was impressive. “Well, while I’m running around being all silently powerful,” I said, turning to her. “You’re putting on a front that I have a feeling isn’t fitting you all too well anymore, Ms. Belle.”