Stupid Boy
Page 36
For the very first time since, well, as long as I could remember, I felt compelled not to go home. It was scary, admitting that I’d rather be with Kane. We hadn’t known each other for long—we really didn’t know each other at all. Yet I couldn’t deny the attraction, the pull I felt toward him. Instinctive and raw, I felt it just as strongly as I felt my own heart beating.
Again, his temporary status, not to mention his sketchy occupation, dropped a dose of reality back in my lap. I couldn’t not go home, though. I was expected. I had no choice in the matter, really.
His mouth swept mine once more, and I breathed him in. Piney soap and clean shampoo. He made me lose my train of thought.
“All right, well, can I call you?” he asked.
We began to lope, making our first lap around the pond. “I would like that.”
“Can I see you before you go?” he asked.
I threw him a glance, and noticed we both puffed out white clouds of air as our warm breath mingled. “I’d like that even more.”
We finished our run, and it was easy for me to imagine Kane McCarthy existed on a different plane than he really did. One where I didn’t have to hide seeing him. One where he didn’t have a shady occupation. And one where we spent the holidays together. It was a novel idea. Novel and very, very dangerous to engage in. He held my jaw with his hand, tilted my head, and claimed my lips with his. His mouth settled over mine, and its sensation was addictive; I wanted it all the time. Another danger, I thought.
“Not to scare you away or anything,” he said, “but I’m going to really miss you, Harper Belle.”
I felt the blush creep over my skin. “I’m going to miss you, too, Kane McCarthy.”
And I wished like anything that I didn’t have to leave.
* * *
I’d just finished packing my overnight bag when my cell phone vibrated on my nightstand. It was a text from Kane.
KANE: WHERE/WHEN TO MEET? I’M DYIN OVER HERE. AND STARVED.
I grinned and sighed. I could hear his accent, even in text message. He seemed so genuine. So sincere. Dangerous, yet…not. I thought about it.
ME: RIDGEVIEW RESTAURANT. JUST PAST COVINGTON. LOOK FOR THE SIGN ON THE RIGHT. YOU CAN’T MISS IT.
KANE: IN 30?
ME: RACE YA THERE :-)
KANE: YOU SMILED AGAIN. I LIKE THAT. SEE YA IN 30.
I dropped my phone in my small leather bag, inspected my room one last time. I counted the money I’d taken from my money box to be sure I had enough, and smoothed my tailored suit before shouldering my meager overnight bag, locking my door, and descending the steps from Delta House. The other girls had already gone; Murphy left the evening before. There was always an eerie silence about campus prior to holidays, when all of the students had left. A deafening calm that almost made my ears ring. Ghostly almost.
Sometimes, I wished I could just stay behind and enjoy it.
Setting my bags in the back seat of the Lexus, I started the engine, glanced once at Kappa House, and headed to the main gate. Soon I was halfway to Covington.
Kane had beaten me to the restaurant, and when I pulled into the mostly-vacant parking lot, he was leaning against his truck. Shades covering his eyes. Leather jacket. Worn jeans. Boots. His hair switched every which way with the wind.
Perfect.
A slow smile crept over his face as I pulled up next to him, and although I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew he watched me close. I stepped out of my car and he was there, my face in his hands, his mouth descending on mine. I drank him in.
I was getting way too used to it.
He pulled back, though, and kissed my forehead. Took off his shades. While his mood was buoyant, his eyes seemed heavier. Sad. “Let’s eat.”
Inside, one older couple sat close to the hearth at a small table. Kane led me over to a booth overlooking the ridge and pines and cottonwoods, and I scooted into my seat. Surprisingly, he slid in beside me. He draped an arm over my shoulders.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
The waitress came over—a thin, middle-aged woman with pale blonde hair. Kane ordered hot chocolate, and he looked at me. “Do you want some, Harper?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t used to having things bought for me. But the waitress, well, waited, and I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo. “Yes, please.”
“Gotcha. You look over the menu and I’ll come back with your drinks.” She walked off, Kane thanked her, and he ducked his head to look at me closer. “Something’s bothering you?”
Suddenly, that wary feeling returned. I usually ate once a day. Sparingly, to save money. I kept bananas and apples—anything that didn’t need refrigeration, in my room, and I’d make them last all week. I didn’t splurge on café lattes and hot cocoa. My routine seemed rather average and normal…until someone else got a glimpse into my private life.
Then it seemed strange. Very, very abnormal. Not average at all.
I pasted a smile. “I’m fine, really.”
Silently, he studied me. The guy with more perception than I’d ever given him credit for. I didn’t think he bought my lie, but he didn’t call me out on it. For that I was thankful.
He opened the plastic menu in front of us and we looked over it together. When he chose a burger, I chose a small bowl of house soup. His gaze slipped to mine.
“Harper,” he said softly after the waitress left. In his eyes, worry. Another thing I wasn’t used to. “You eat like a bird. Aren’t you hungry?”
Again, his temporary status, not to mention his sketchy occupation, dropped a dose of reality back in my lap. I couldn’t not go home, though. I was expected. I had no choice in the matter, really.
His mouth swept mine once more, and I breathed him in. Piney soap and clean shampoo. He made me lose my train of thought.
“All right, well, can I call you?” he asked.
We began to lope, making our first lap around the pond. “I would like that.”
“Can I see you before you go?” he asked.
I threw him a glance, and noticed we both puffed out white clouds of air as our warm breath mingled. “I’d like that even more.”
We finished our run, and it was easy for me to imagine Kane McCarthy existed on a different plane than he really did. One where I didn’t have to hide seeing him. One where he didn’t have a shady occupation. And one where we spent the holidays together. It was a novel idea. Novel and very, very dangerous to engage in. He held my jaw with his hand, tilted my head, and claimed my lips with his. His mouth settled over mine, and its sensation was addictive; I wanted it all the time. Another danger, I thought.
“Not to scare you away or anything,” he said, “but I’m going to really miss you, Harper Belle.”
I felt the blush creep over my skin. “I’m going to miss you, too, Kane McCarthy.”
And I wished like anything that I didn’t have to leave.
* * *
I’d just finished packing my overnight bag when my cell phone vibrated on my nightstand. It was a text from Kane.
KANE: WHERE/WHEN TO MEET? I’M DYIN OVER HERE. AND STARVED.
I grinned and sighed. I could hear his accent, even in text message. He seemed so genuine. So sincere. Dangerous, yet…not. I thought about it.
ME: RIDGEVIEW RESTAURANT. JUST PAST COVINGTON. LOOK FOR THE SIGN ON THE RIGHT. YOU CAN’T MISS IT.
KANE: IN 30?
ME: RACE YA THERE :-)
KANE: YOU SMILED AGAIN. I LIKE THAT. SEE YA IN 30.
I dropped my phone in my small leather bag, inspected my room one last time. I counted the money I’d taken from my money box to be sure I had enough, and smoothed my tailored suit before shouldering my meager overnight bag, locking my door, and descending the steps from Delta House. The other girls had already gone; Murphy left the evening before. There was always an eerie silence about campus prior to holidays, when all of the students had left. A deafening calm that almost made my ears ring. Ghostly almost.
Sometimes, I wished I could just stay behind and enjoy it.
Setting my bags in the back seat of the Lexus, I started the engine, glanced once at Kappa House, and headed to the main gate. Soon I was halfway to Covington.
Kane had beaten me to the restaurant, and when I pulled into the mostly-vacant parking lot, he was leaning against his truck. Shades covering his eyes. Leather jacket. Worn jeans. Boots. His hair switched every which way with the wind.
Perfect.
A slow smile crept over his face as I pulled up next to him, and although I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew he watched me close. I stepped out of my car and he was there, my face in his hands, his mouth descending on mine. I drank him in.
I was getting way too used to it.
He pulled back, though, and kissed my forehead. Took off his shades. While his mood was buoyant, his eyes seemed heavier. Sad. “Let’s eat.”
Inside, one older couple sat close to the hearth at a small table. Kane led me over to a booth overlooking the ridge and pines and cottonwoods, and I scooted into my seat. Surprisingly, he slid in beside me. He draped an arm over my shoulders.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
The waitress came over—a thin, middle-aged woman with pale blonde hair. Kane ordered hot chocolate, and he looked at me. “Do you want some, Harper?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t used to having things bought for me. But the waitress, well, waited, and I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo. “Yes, please.”
“Gotcha. You look over the menu and I’ll come back with your drinks.” She walked off, Kane thanked her, and he ducked his head to look at me closer. “Something’s bothering you?”
Suddenly, that wary feeling returned. I usually ate once a day. Sparingly, to save money. I kept bananas and apples—anything that didn’t need refrigeration, in my room, and I’d make them last all week. I didn’t splurge on café lattes and hot cocoa. My routine seemed rather average and normal…until someone else got a glimpse into my private life.
Then it seemed strange. Very, very abnormal. Not average at all.
I pasted a smile. “I’m fine, really.”
Silently, he studied me. The guy with more perception than I’d ever given him credit for. I didn’t think he bought my lie, but he didn’t call me out on it. For that I was thankful.
He opened the plastic menu in front of us and we looked over it together. When he chose a burger, I chose a small bowl of house soup. His gaze slipped to mine.
“Harper,” he said softly after the waitress left. In his eyes, worry. Another thing I wasn’t used to. “You eat like a bird. Aren’t you hungry?”
