19. Chapter 19 #4
While I waited, I stretched my legs out and sank beneath a soft blanket draped over the arm of the sofa.
My gaze swept the large room, with its high ceilings, enormous fireplace, soft, recessed lighting, variety of plants, and minimalist but expensive-looking earth-toned decor.
This place must cost a fortune. My eyes landed on the coffee table near the couch.
Beneath the table was a bookshelf, and I leaned forward to glance at the titles.
Mostly naval reference books … one military romance book I’d seen at the bookstore recently in the new release section.
I searched my brain to put the pieces together. Zophie, Kylan’s sister, had rarely been around when I’d dated him. Had she been in the military? I scratched my head, frowning at my inability to remember. My memory was usually pretty good, but it had been a long day, to say the least.
A more recent memory stirred then. He had mentioned Kelly earlier. Did he have a girlfriend no one knew about? I tried to ignore the sharp pain in my chest at the thought.
My body’s been through a lot tonight, almost freezing to death—that’s all it is, surely—I’m not jealous or anything stupid like that .
I was certain Kylan and Sofia were at the very least flirting and possibly dating, and he didn’t seem like the cheating type. Of course, the thought of him with Sofia didn’t make me feel any better. By the time I heard footsteps, a rather stormy expression had taken over my face.
“Hey,” he said, “I brought a few different things, not sure what you’d want. Oh, uh … are you all right?” he asked, noticing my scowl.
I forced a polite smile. “I’m fine. And thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” Obviously, letting me into his home was the very last thing he wanted. And now, serving me food? He had to be hating every moment of this. Understandably.
“Yeah, well,” he said, his voice sounding gruff as he set out the tray of food options and hot chocolate on the coffee table. “I have some lasagna, rice pilaf, banana, and … well, you can see everything. Hopefully you can find something here that looks edible. You need to regain some strength.”
My breath caught when he said lasagna, and my face softened as memories flooded my vision.
Memories of the two of us, eating at our favorite little Italian place, right off campus, nearly every weekend.
It was cheap but good. He wasn’t really adventurous with food back then, but lasagna was something we could always agree on.
It became our go-to order for dates or even for ordering in.
Surely he remembered.
I dared to raise my eyes to his.
Or maybe not .
He looked as disgruntled as he always did in my presence.
“Eat,” he said sharply as he perched on the other end of the sofa.
I drew in a breath and sat up straighter. “All right, geez.”
He said nothing while pushing the tray closer to me. But I was incredibly thirsty and took a sip of the hot chocolate first.
A sound escaped my throat, and it was probably a bit inappropriate in front of my boss, but I didn’t care. The drink was absolutely delicious.
The perfect blend of hot chocolate, marshmallows, and caramel—wait a minute.
He has to remember.
Everyone likes hot chocolate, but not everyone puts caramel in it.
He remembers how I like my hot chocolate!
I took another sip, closing my eyes to savor it before opening them and daring to meet his eyes.
He was staring. But likely unaware he was doing so. I lowered my eyes and set the cup down. “This all looks delicious … lasagna, always a favorite,” I said casually, my glance sliding back up to his.
He sat further back against the cushions, nodding slightly while watching me.
After taking a few bites of everything, I sighed. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. When I set down my utensils, he barked, “Keep eating.”
My eyes flashed as I turned to him with rising ire. “Excuse me? I’ll stop eating when I want to stop.”
He opened and closed his mouth and then crossed his arms over his chest. Focusing on my anger was hard though because …
those arms . He’d always had a nice form, but had he been so muscular back in college?
I didn’t think so—I’d remember if he looked like this .
He hadn’t been a gym type. But the new Kylan had to be a gym type.
His biceps were fairly bursting to escape the sleeves.
I frowned, realizing the totally pointless direction of my thoughts and feeling my cheeks heat up.
“Well, at least you’re getting some color back. You were so pale and clammy before,” he observed quietly. “I … sorry if I’ve been a little overbearing. I’ve just been worried. You are … you were not in a good way.”
My lips curved into a small smile in surprise.
“Thank you for that. Overbearing is putting it mildly.” When his brows furrowed, I added, “I’m so glad you were there to help though.
I don’t know what I would’ve done if … well, I don’t want to think about it.
” I sipped more hot chocolate, which was more like warm chocolate by this point but still delicious.
“I just realized drinking hot chocolate might not be the best idea if you’re about to take my temperature.
Unless you have a forehead or ear thermometer? ”
“It’s no matter. We won’t be taking your temperature for a while yet anyway. Kelly told me it’s best to wait at least a half hour after bathing, ideally longer, to take someone’s temperature.”
“Oh, uh, OK,” I said, my brain scrambling to keep up.
So we have to sit here longer and make awkward small talk before I can take a nap. Great.
And who is this Kelly?
The last thing I want to do is ask, but it would be weird if I didn’t, right?
“Kelly? Is she your, uh …”
His mouth twitched. “I’m just now realizing you probably know her as Zophie Croft, right?
My sister changed her name a couple years back after dealing with a stalker situation.
It was a whole thing, a long story. But anyway, she’s Kelly now.
She’s in DC at the moment presenting at a naval engineering conference. ”
My shoulders relaxed as I let out a breath. “Oh, I see. So she’s a bigshot engineer now, huh?”
Kylan laughed, rich and deep. He’d so rarely laughed recently that the sound—and the smile that came with it—caught me off guard, and I had to avert my eyes. “Maybe someday, but no. She’s still slogging through her PhD work now.”
I gasped. “Wait, what?” I looked around the grand, spacious apartment or condo or whatever this type of home was. “How does a PhD student afford this house?”
“You don’t have to remind me I wasn’t born into money.” Kylan looked at his lap for a moment, as though uncomfortable or unsure what else to say. Finally he simply said, “She deserves the best.”
And then it dawned on me. This spacious, sophisticated home—and everything in it—was all from him. He’d made sure his sister lived in luxury. He must be even richer than I realized. “Ah. She’s lucky to have such a generous brother.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m the lucky one. She’s amazing.”
I looked away.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Shaking my head, I studied my hands and then squeezed my eyes shut.
“Annie?”
Breathing out shakily, I turned toward him partially.
“Nothing, really. I’m really happy you guys have each other.
Sometimes I–I wish I had a close family member like that, that’s all.
My … my mother is still a horrible person.
” I didn’t dare make eye contact with him.
I knew how he felt about my mother—he blamed her, along with Viviana, for persuading me to break things off all those years ago.
After a long silence, he said, “People like her rarely change.”
“I know,” I said quietly.
Finishing the decadent drink, I set the cup down and leaned back against the sofa, tucking my feet under the blanket. I needed to lighten the mood, so I said the first thing that came to mind—which may or may not have been the best idea. “So, look at you.”
His eyebrows rose slightly as he gazed at me. “Look at me?”
“Kylan Quinn has made a name for himself,” I said with a small smile. “How does that feel? ”
He gazed at me uncertainly, but seeing that my smile was genuine, he started to grin.
“Not going to lie, it was pretty intoxicating at first. I mean, who was I? Nobody, right? It was all parties and money and … a little fame … well, you know, like a dream for a humble kid from Minnesota, I guess. I suppose the novelty wore off after a while. I’m leading a quieter life now, though in this line of work networking and image do matter, of course, so I can’t just hibernate.
I probably would if I could though,” he said with a chuckle. “Sorry, rambling.”
“Not at all.” I bit my lip. Had he been drinking? That was by far the most words he’d spoken around me since he’d returned. “I’m glad it’s been such a fun experience. May I ask how you did it? I mean, such success in just a few years … I’m sure people ask you that all the time, right?”
His face became serious again, and he nodded.
“Pretty much constantly.” For a long moment, he said nothing.
Maybe he wouldn’t tell me anything. That was fair.
But finally, he spoke, his mind seeming far away.
“As is often the case, it was a combination of luck and hard work. Very hard work. Like nonstop work every day until my eyeballs wouldn’t work anymore.
I just wouldn’t stop. I was … determined, I suppose. ”
“So did you start out in a position like mine or …” I trailed off, trying to encourage him to say more.
He chuckled. “Lower. I was an intern, not even a paid one at first. It was New York City … I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
I was willing to start at the bottom. I worked graveyard shifts at a hotel, plus a million hours a week at the agency trying to prove myself.
Well, it worked. But I had some help,” he said, a touch of bitterness in his voice.