16. Kaycia
Chapter 16
Kaycia
W hen I heard Shane through the wall, his frustration was palpable. Just the timbre of his voice told me he was upset without hearing the words he spoke. I immediately assumed it was about me and our night together.
Self-centered anxiety: not one of my best qualities.
Panic bubbled up when I opened the door and saw the tension on Shane’s face. I was relieved when he kissed me back and held me close, even if he still wasn’t as relaxed as he was last night. Now that he’s said we need to talk about his past I begin to worry anew.
What do I really know about the “hot guy next door”? What is he hiding?
I pour coffee into the handmade mug and try to be as nonchalant as possible, even as his gaze lingers on me and makes me want to pull his shirt off and continue where we left off last night.
“Cream, or milk, whatever you have,” Shane answers my question about how he takes his coffee, snapping me back to the present. I had planned on making us breakfast, but something tells me he needs to get this off his chest now, or else he might lose his nerve.
I’m not sure if that makes me more or less nervous about what he wants to tell me.
Handing him the mug, I wrap my fingers around my own and lean against my kitchen counter watching him. The restlessness in him is visible as his eyes scan my apartment, running a hand through his still sleep-tousled, honey-colored hair, his coffee clenched in the other.
“Do you want to sit on the balcony?” I ask, wondering if the fresh air might make him less jittery.
“Sure,” he sighs, letting me lead the way into my little green oasis. “Kaycia,” he begins once we sit down. “First of all, last night was—” He meets my eyes and smiles, making my chest ache and my stomach fill with butterflies. “It was fucking amazing. But I should have told you the truth before I let that happen.”
Oh, gods. Is he married? Does he have a girlfriend? I start thinking of the worst possible scenarios, my stomach changing from the tickle of butterflies to the gnawing agony of dread.
“My past is rocky. It’s why I moved to the city. Why I don’t have a lot of friends. Why I don’t go out much,” Shane says, leaning his elbows on his knees while he cradles the cup between his hands, not looking at me. “When I was younger, I was involved in an accident. Two people died and I was blamed.” He swallows and when he looks up his eyes are tight and glassy, like he’s struggling to find the right words to share.
“In the end, I got off easy. The authorities chalked it up to being stupid teenagers and determined the death wasn’t intentional, but nothing was ever the same. The other guy’s family had it out for me, my family, and my friends. It was safer for my loved ones if I got out of town. But they never stopped looking for me to try to pay me back.”
“I’m so sorry.” It feels like such a pitiful sentiment for something that’s distressing him so much, so many years later, but I don’t know what else to say.
“It’s been a decade since I left. At least six or seven years since I’ve run into anyone who knew me before,” Shane says, sighing as he gives a sad smile. “Until maybe now.”
“What do you mean?” Fear squeezes my throat, it seems unreasonable to be so worried about someone I barely know, but I can’t bear the idea of something happening to him.
“Raquel and Max both texted me last night about a suspicious guy at the bar. I missed him. I wasn’t as cautious as I usually am.”
“Because of me,” I murmur, guiltily.
“No, because I didn’t pay attention. I should have explained better before we went out, but honestly, I have no idea if he’s even a concern. This may just be years of being cautious making me paranoid.” He reaches across the space between our chairs to grab my hand, intertwining our fingers and rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. “I don’t want to fuck this up, wherever it’s going. But it wouldn’t be fair to keep this from you. You deserve to know that I’ve got a past and that it could be dangerous to get close to me. To make you aware in case you don’t want to get involved with me.”
My stomach sinks. I know I should have warning bells going off and that I should tell him ‘Thanks, but no thanks’. Instead, my heart aches at the idea of calling this off before it even has a chance to blossom. Exhaling my doubts, I reply, “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate knowing.” I squeeze his hand and receive a tight smile in return. “We can’t help our pasts, even if they haunt us sometimes. Did this guy do something after we left to worry the others?”
“No. It’s just a feeling,” he answers, more guarded than before, but then the tension ebbs as he adds, “I don’t want you to be worried about it, Kaycia. I’m sure it will all blow over.” He strokes his thumb across the back of my hand, then brings it to his lips to kiss my knuckles. “I think we had far more fun coming home than we would have if we’d stayed at the bar anyway,” he whispers against my skin, then winks, tugging on my hand so that I’m pulled into his lap. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I whisper with a grin, my heart hammering as he nuzzles against my neck and pulls me close for a kiss, alleviating my worries and distracting me with my craving for him. “Want breakfast?”
Shane slides his hand up my bare thigh, smiling against my mouth. “I want anything you’re offering, beautiful.”