Chapter 8 #2
“Shit, sorry, that came out wrong,” he curses, moving forward. “It’s a good thing. I’m glad you like it.”
I nod, offering a forced smile, still riddled with the heat of humiliation.
His hand captures my chin before gently forcing my head up until his worried blue eyes are in my line of sight. He cups his chest with his free hand. “I’m sorry, that was a dumb thing to say. I just meant that I’m really happy to see you happy over food.”
My brows furrow.
“I…forced Bella to give me updates on your treatment, and one of them was how you could eat food without pain.” He smiles, and it momentarily stuns me as he goes on.
“I don’t think you realize how radiant it is to be around someone experiencing things with such joy.
So please, don’t stop enjoying it. In fact, I’ll hate myself for eternity if you stop doing those breathy little moans when you take a bite. ”
My eyes widen. “I do not moan!”
He stares at me blankly.
“Okay fine, I moan…a little,” I say teasingly, my thumb and pointer finger pinched together.
He snorts out a laugh, dropping his hand from my chin as he sits back, twirling his fork through his fettucine. “Well don’t stop. It’s sexy as fuck.”
A burst of shocked laughter escapes me. “Are you always this blunt?”
He nods emphatically as he chews around a mouthful. “I’m surprised you’re just now realizing. Did you seriously not read my text messages?”
My eyes roll of their own accord. “Of course I read them, I had my first stalker. I was somewhat proud of myself.”
“I’m happy to have ticked off another thing on your life list.”
“Having a stalker wasn’t one of them, Ashford,” I tease.
“You just didn’t know what you were missing out on.”
Not when dark romance novels exist. “Trust me, I knew.”
He stretches his arm along the back of the couch and I swallow, hyperaware of his hand being a mere inch from my body.
“What is on your life list?” he asks suddenly.
My cheeks flame as I think about the list I have under lock and key in my phone, protected by a password. Half the stuff on there…let’s just say the books I’ve read have heavily inspired me.
Kieran is beyond sweet for bringing to life one of my desires today with the water fight, but I don’t have the heart to tell him that most of the things on the list I most certainly can’t do with my boss.
He automatically assumed innocent life things but mine are more along the line of firsts…in the bedroom.
Like losing my virginity.
Cocking his head, he studies me, his eyes suddenly narrow. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Shoving a forkful of pasta in my mouth, I shrug, not trusting myself to speak.
“Can I see it?”
My eyes practically bulge out of my head.
That was all he needed to see. A dirty grin spreads across his lips. “Oh, I’m going to do everything in my power to pry that list out of you.”
“You can try,” I sing-song. “But you won’t get very far.”
“Never challenge an athlete. We’re extremely competitive.”
“Noted.”
He rears back. “You really aren’t going to tell me what’s on it?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the p.
He snorts. “Why, is it sexual fantasies?”
I drop my gaze quickly, picking up his empty bowl and making myself busy as I head toward the sink. “No, don’t be ridiculous.” I feign scoffing at the notion.
I hear him flip around on the couch. “Holy shit, I was joking but…” He trails off and I’m grateful for the ringing in my ears and the loud rush of water so I can’t hear what he says next.
I scrub our dishes like a madwoman before I drop the bowls in the sink and rush past him and his knowing stare, calling over my shoulder, “I’m going to check on my clothes.”
I note my sky-high heart rate and the slight shake in my fingers as I step into the laundry and open the dryer. I all but slump with relief as my hand brushes against my warm clothes.
Shutting the dryer door with my hip, the click rings out as I pull Kieran’s hoodie over my head. His voice rings out behind me, making me scream.
His chuckle mixes with the sound of my sigh as I spin and cover myself, relief flooding my system as I find the laundry door still closed.
“Kieran!” I shout. “Let me change in peace!”
I can practically hear the smile in his voice. “You ran out of that room awfully fast, sunshine. Is there something you’re avoiding?”
“No!” I snap.
Huffing, I pull my jeans on, sighing at the warm fabric. After slipping on my own sweater, I fold Kieran’s, ignoring his yapping on the other side of the door. I pull it open quickly enough that my fiery red hair flies out behind me.
Whatever I was about to say dies on my tongue as I find Kieran leaning against the doorframe, smirking down at me.
Before I can move past him, he lifts a hand to the top of the doorframe and leans in closer. “Tell me one thing on the list and I’ll drop it,” he whispers.
My brow arches. “You expect me to believe you?”
He clicks his tongue. “Fine, how about you tell me one thing, and in exchange, I’ll tell you a secret.”
A secret from Kieran Ashford?
I honestly would die to know what goes through this man’s brain.
“You’re considering it.” He winks. “I’ll make it a juicy secret.”
“How do you do that?” I whisper.
“Do what? Be oh so charming all the time? It’s a skill—”
“Not that,” I cut him off. “How do you always seem to know what people are thinking?”
He’s quiet for a moment before he drops his head an inch, bringing our faces so close together his warm breath puffs across my skin. “If you want to know the answer to that,” he drawls, “you have to tell me something on the list.”
I sigh, resolving to tell him one of the lesser of evils. I could lie and make something up but that isn’t fair, not when it looks like he’s serious about answering my question.
Dropping my gaze to my feet, I wrack my mind through the list, trying to remember everything that I wrote down. If I stared into his eyes any longer, I would just end up saying something stupid.
Ugh, I hate that he has this effect on me.
He makes it incredibly hard to think, especially when his eyes do that twinkle thing—gah.
“Spill it, sunshine,” he whispers, that damn nickname catching and holding.
Lifting my chin, I smirk, satisfied with the PG one I remembered. “To be kissed in the rain.”
Kieran’s excitement winks out like a fire that’s had water thrown on it. “That’s nowhere near as dirty as I thought it was going to be.”
I shrug innocently. “You never said I had to give you one of the dirty ones.”
His eyes flash. “So there are dirty ones.”
Scoffing, I push him away, my heart leaping as my hand connects with his warm chest.
I swear he pouts.
“Should have been more specific with your deal, Ashford. Cough it up, what’s your secret? How do you always know what someone is thinking?”
If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought the topic sucked out all the air in the room. Tension lines his shoulders before he seems to force himself to relax.
“The foster home I grew up in.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “The one I picked Emmy up from, they were…the lesser of evils compared to some of the foster homes I was sent to, but it was still evil nonetheless.”
My heart drops.
I expect him to avoid my eyes but instead he lifts his chin, locking those blues on me and holding as he rips his chest open and bears his emotional scars. “You had to be on high alert, at all times, and I guess I just never stopped watching for signs.”
“Signs?” I find myself asking.
He shrugs. “A pinch of a lip here, a tightness around the eye there, a change in tone, tightening shoulders…You know, signs.”
“Of?” I whisper, dreading the answer that I already know is coming.
Kieran holds onto our eye contact like it’s a lifeline. “A fist soon to come…or a belt.” He inhales deeply, only for the breath to leave him in a rush. “A cigarette to the arm, a kick in the ribs, a slap to the cheek, food withheld for a day or two, a night spent outside like a dog…”
My eyes burn.
My chin quivers.
And my heart…
My heart shatters at our feet.
I bite my lip to try and stop my tears, to try and be strong when he’s standing here with his chin held high as he relives the most horrific crimes you could ever commit to a child, but I can’t stop the flow, the picture he’s painting…
He lifts his hand and gently brushes away the tears I’m trying so desperately to hold in.
“Don’t cry for me,” he whispers. “It ended a long time ago.”
“It should have never happened,” I swear vehemently.
“No, it shouldn’t have,” he agrees softly.
“So let me cry for you, Kieran. No one deserves that, let alone an innocent little boy.”
Kieran falls quiet for so long we’re left standing in the thick of his admission, the revelation that the man before me not only didn’t experience the love of a parent but the foster home that was meant to care for him and keep him safe utterly terrorized him shatters something in my chest.
The system failed him.
The foster home failed him.
Child protective services failed him.
His mother failed him.
Everyone failed him.
He smiles down at me but it’s sad, that flirtatious, bubbly personality nowhere to be seen now. “You feel deeply, don’t you, my darling?” Before I can answer, he reaches up to catch another tear as he murmurs, “It’s a beautiful quality to possess.”
And then his warmth, his touch, and his soft words retreat as he takes a step back, that charming smile firmly back in place. “See you tomorrow, gorgeous. I hope to see you wearing my jersey.”