Sweet Peril
Page 53
“No helmet?” I hollered over the whine of engine.
“Nah! Not on my land. See ya!” I jumped back as he took off, speeding into a brush of brambles and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Kaidan and I stood there, staring at the place where our buffer person had disappeared and listening as the bike zoomed farther away. Several tense beats passed, both of us looking around the garage.
He cleared his throat. “We could take a walk,” he suggested. “If you’d like.”
“Sure.” We walked back around the house, down the many steps onto the sand until we were at that wonderful place where water met land.
“Ack!” I screamed as a wave washed over my feet and ankles. “It’s freezing!”
He smirked to himself. It was hot enough outside to offset the cold water, so after a few minutes I got used to it.
Together we walked in the surf, leaving our footprints in the sand. Neither of us spoke. We passed a man and a pregnant woman holding hands. Her free hand rested on top of the baby bump. They smiled in passing, and as I returned the gesture a powerful longing hit me. My hand brushed Kai’s, certain I’d felt his own fingers curl instinctively before we both pulled our arms away. Empty.
I didn’t know where to start with him. Too much hurt was between us, like a giant pile of rubble blocking our way.
“I heard your band’s first single.”
He looked at me with surprise and, if I didn’t know any better, shyness, too. His hair shielded part of his eyes when he asked, “Did you?”
“Jay’s interning at a radio station now, so he got his hands on it. It’s good. Are you having fun doing the recordings and stuff?”
He shrugged. “Music used to be my one escape. Playing was the only time I could forget everything.”
But it wasn’t anymore? His jaw clamped shut as if he’d said too much. All this time I’d been thinking at least he had his band and drumming to ease his mind. But he was worse off than I’d imagined.
He ran his hands through his hair several times, then shoved them in his swim trunk pockets and let the locks fall around his face as he peered down at the sand. We sidestepped a huge cloudy-looking glob.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Jellyfish.”
Silence again. We walked for a long time. Thank goodness for the distraction of waves and squawking seagulls because the tension and hurt between us was brutal. I wished I knew how to mend it. I wanted to ask him about working, and the Valentine’s Day visit, but we’d need to build up to that.
Up ahead, not too far, was a pier and a carnival. A tall Ferris wheel towered over the shore. The beach close ahead was filled with people. I felt the need to stop and say something before we were surrounded by crowds.
“Kai?” I put my hand in the crook of his elbow to gently halt him. He tilted his head to the side with a hard expression, but at least he didn’t pull away from me this time. “All I’ve wanted is to talk to you,” I began. Emotions that I’d buried for so long rose inside me, impassioning my words. “I don’t understand what you expected me to do. You pushed me away for so long, even pushed me toward someone else. I know I hurt you, but I never meant to. It was one kiss, Kaidan. A mistake. Now all three of us are hurting because of it. It’s unfair.”
“Don’t talk to me about what’s fair, Anna. Nothing is ever fair. Ask your father.” As soon as he said it, he winced and closed his eyes.
“My father . . . ?”
And that’s when it hit.
My mouth opened. Fury kicked, bruising me from the inside. I couldn’t speak.
Dad did this.
“He told you to stay away from me?”
Kaidan opened his eyes. “I’d been planning to move and keep my distance anyway, so we came to an agreement. The few times I got the urge to ring you, the reminder of his warning cleared my head.”
Kai had wanted to call me. . . .
“I can’t freaking believe this,” I whispered. I pressed my fingers to my temples and walked a small circle in the sand. It didn’t matter that Dad was looking out for me. He’d let me believe Kaidan didn’t care anymore. He’d betrayed me and threatened the boy I loved—a boy who already lived in enough fear.
“I won’t tell him that you told me,” I promised. It would only serve to make him angry at Kaidan.
“Belial was only demanding what was best. It’s what needed to be done.” With his toe, he nudged a sand crab that had been uncovered by a wave, and it scurried under the sand. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”
His words were a warm wind blowing over my skin, coaxing up goose bumps.
“I’ve spent almost every night since that summit imagining how we could make this work, Kai. That night when I saw you in Atlanta was terrible. And then after you came to me in February, fighting with you was not what I had in mind for today.” I stopped to swallow. “I can’t take back what happened in Australia, but I hope you can forgive me.”
A blast of wind came, giving me an excuse to close my eyes.
“So, what is it that you want, Anna?”
That felt like a loaded question. And suddenly I was afraid of putting myself out there and being rejected by him yet again. Like a coward I responded, “If nothing else, I need you as a friend and an ally.”
“You want to be friends?” Kaidan lifted his eyes to me. “Because it’s not possible if you feel anything more than friendship. Allies, yes, but not friends. If you can show me your colors and prove there’s nothing left, then we can be friends.”
“Nah! Not on my land. See ya!” I jumped back as he took off, speeding into a brush of brambles and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Kaidan and I stood there, staring at the place where our buffer person had disappeared and listening as the bike zoomed farther away. Several tense beats passed, both of us looking around the garage.
He cleared his throat. “We could take a walk,” he suggested. “If you’d like.”
“Sure.” We walked back around the house, down the many steps onto the sand until we were at that wonderful place where water met land.
“Ack!” I screamed as a wave washed over my feet and ankles. “It’s freezing!”
He smirked to himself. It was hot enough outside to offset the cold water, so after a few minutes I got used to it.
Together we walked in the surf, leaving our footprints in the sand. Neither of us spoke. We passed a man and a pregnant woman holding hands. Her free hand rested on top of the baby bump. They smiled in passing, and as I returned the gesture a powerful longing hit me. My hand brushed Kai’s, certain I’d felt his own fingers curl instinctively before we both pulled our arms away. Empty.
I didn’t know where to start with him. Too much hurt was between us, like a giant pile of rubble blocking our way.
“I heard your band’s first single.”
He looked at me with surprise and, if I didn’t know any better, shyness, too. His hair shielded part of his eyes when he asked, “Did you?”
“Jay’s interning at a radio station now, so he got his hands on it. It’s good. Are you having fun doing the recordings and stuff?”
He shrugged. “Music used to be my one escape. Playing was the only time I could forget everything.”
But it wasn’t anymore? His jaw clamped shut as if he’d said too much. All this time I’d been thinking at least he had his band and drumming to ease his mind. But he was worse off than I’d imagined.
He ran his hands through his hair several times, then shoved them in his swim trunk pockets and let the locks fall around his face as he peered down at the sand. We sidestepped a huge cloudy-looking glob.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Jellyfish.”
Silence again. We walked for a long time. Thank goodness for the distraction of waves and squawking seagulls because the tension and hurt between us was brutal. I wished I knew how to mend it. I wanted to ask him about working, and the Valentine’s Day visit, but we’d need to build up to that.
Up ahead, not too far, was a pier and a carnival. A tall Ferris wheel towered over the shore. The beach close ahead was filled with people. I felt the need to stop and say something before we were surrounded by crowds.
“Kai?” I put my hand in the crook of his elbow to gently halt him. He tilted his head to the side with a hard expression, but at least he didn’t pull away from me this time. “All I’ve wanted is to talk to you,” I began. Emotions that I’d buried for so long rose inside me, impassioning my words. “I don’t understand what you expected me to do. You pushed me away for so long, even pushed me toward someone else. I know I hurt you, but I never meant to. It was one kiss, Kaidan. A mistake. Now all three of us are hurting because of it. It’s unfair.”
“Don’t talk to me about what’s fair, Anna. Nothing is ever fair. Ask your father.” As soon as he said it, he winced and closed his eyes.
“My father . . . ?”
And that’s when it hit.
My mouth opened. Fury kicked, bruising me from the inside. I couldn’t speak.
Dad did this.
“He told you to stay away from me?”
Kaidan opened his eyes. “I’d been planning to move and keep my distance anyway, so we came to an agreement. The few times I got the urge to ring you, the reminder of his warning cleared my head.”
Kai had wanted to call me. . . .
“I can’t freaking believe this,” I whispered. I pressed my fingers to my temples and walked a small circle in the sand. It didn’t matter that Dad was looking out for me. He’d let me believe Kaidan didn’t care anymore. He’d betrayed me and threatened the boy I loved—a boy who already lived in enough fear.
“I won’t tell him that you told me,” I promised. It would only serve to make him angry at Kaidan.
“Belial was only demanding what was best. It’s what needed to be done.” With his toe, he nudged a sand crab that had been uncovered by a wave, and it scurried under the sand. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”
His words were a warm wind blowing over my skin, coaxing up goose bumps.
“I’ve spent almost every night since that summit imagining how we could make this work, Kai. That night when I saw you in Atlanta was terrible. And then after you came to me in February, fighting with you was not what I had in mind for today.” I stopped to swallow. “I can’t take back what happened in Australia, but I hope you can forgive me.”
A blast of wind came, giving me an excuse to close my eyes.
“So, what is it that you want, Anna?”
That felt like a loaded question. And suddenly I was afraid of putting myself out there and being rejected by him yet again. Like a coward I responded, “If nothing else, I need you as a friend and an ally.”
“You want to be friends?” Kaidan lifted his eyes to me. “Because it’s not possible if you feel anything more than friendship. Allies, yes, but not friends. If you can show me your colors and prove there’s nothing left, then we can be friends.”
