19. Chapter 19 #5
“Somehow you don’t sound happy about the help,” I noted hesitantly.
“No, I was grateful … I am. But things got complicated. It’s a long story.
Basically, I became friends with the owner’s son shortly after I started working at the agency.
One day I overheard Josh saying he needed more D&D players, so I volunteered.
You might remember I … never mind,” he said, lowering his eyes for a moment before in haling and exhaling slowly.
“So I was in the right place at the right time. The friendship opened a lot of doors, and I moved up through the ranks quickly. Before I knew it, I was part of management thanks to, well, luck and connections. And I did work hard too. I basically did nothing but work. I became really close with the family, not just Josh but also his dad and his sister Jem.”
Kylan swung his gaze from the ceiling to me and took a deep breath.
“And you’re wondering, ‘OK, but how did you get from being a manager in the agency to owning a bunch of agencies,’ right?
Well, Josh’s dad had a major stroke and passed away suddenly.
He … he actually left the agency to the three of us, along with his investments. Josh, Jem, and me.”
My mouth formed an O , but I said nothing.
“Yeah. We were all sort of numb with grief and shock, but Josh was livid. Resentful. He … he changed. I didn’t know him anymore.
So, I ended up buying them both out. I didn’t want to be tied to someone who was just so hostile, and Jem …
well, she had her own issues. We were never going to be able to work together.
I could’ve sold them my part, but their hearts weren’t really in the business anymore.
They couldn’t even deny it. So I bought out their dad’s business, and then I started buying up other agencies. ”
My eyes were wide. “Wow, for some reason, the way you tell the story, acquisitions actually sound fun or exciting.”
“It was—well, it is —kind of intoxicating.” He exhaled softly and then paused. “So, now you know.”
Our eyes locked for a long moment. “It’s incredible, Kylan.
Yes, it sounds like there was some luck, and some tragedy, but you expanded their business into the amazingly successful operation that it is today.
From nothing. Four years ago you were just a new college grad.
A lowly intern. Less than I am today. And now this.
It’s just … mind boggling. Everyone who knows you has to be in awe. ”
“Perhaps not everyone,” he said softly. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on mine for a long moment. “But I have my share of fans. Sometimes I worry that I’ll peak too early though. I mean, I’m not even 30 yet.” He shook his head. “What a problem to complain about, huh? Sorry.”
“No, it’s OK. My friend Viv said something similar about our writer friend Jack, who’s kind of facing that.
He’s in his early 30s, but he’s achieved so much success as a writer already that we worry he’s peaked too soon.
He seems pretty content in life—he’s just that kind of person—but who knows if it will last. So much life ahead—” My eyes had been wandering but happened to land back on his face.
His mouth was curved into a severe frown, while his arms were crossed in a defensive pose.
“Oh, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if—”
“No. Nothing,” he said abruptly, looking away. He quickly rose to his feet. “Actually, it’s time to take your temperature. Let me get the thermometer, one moment.” He practically raced out of the room.
What on earth did I say or do?
I tried to think frantically, replaying the scene in my head.
I was talking about peaking in careers, and I mentioned—oh.
Oh.
Viviana.
He remembers her.
Of course he does, and now he remembers why he hates me.
Why, oh why, did I have to bring her up? We were getting along, for once.
And it was …
I didn’t want to admit it.
It was nice.
Better than nice.
Before I could ruminate any longer, he was back with two thermometers. “First, we’ll do the forehead thermometer and then the oral one, just to compare,” he said, his tone all business.
But as he came close, close enough to place the thermometer in front of my forehead, his eyes locked on mine with something unspoken. Not just concern. Something heavier. Something that twisted in my chest.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but he shook his head gently.
“Don’t talk,” he said. “Just let me do this.”
I nodded, and as I opened my mouth, his hand hovered in front of me, steady and careful. But it was his eyes that undid me—drawn to my lips, lingering just a second too long.
He’s watching to make sure he gets the placement right. That’s all .
Still, my pulse was racing, my breath uneven.
The way he looked at me—like he remembered everything—made me wonder if he was thinking the same thing I was: how close we were. How close his mouth was to mine.
The thermometer beeped softly between us, but the silence felt louder.
Like the space where a kiss almost happens—and doesn’t.
He inched back slowly as he removed the thermometer and squinted at the tiny screen.
“Both above 98 degrees. You’re perfect. But …
are you all right?” He sat down next to me, closer this time, with genuine concern on his face as his gaze swept over my heated cheeks.
“You look … I don’t know. Are you feeling symptoms of—”
Mortified, I interrupted him. “I’m fine.
I think … I’m, uh, probably just tired. It’s been a long day.
” I wasn’t lying. It had been a long day, and I was beyond exhausted.
It was a convenient excuse for blushing and nearly panting in front of him.
“Can I snooze on your couch? Just for a couple hours probably, until the storm lets up. I’m sure a little nap will be enough. ”
“Don’t be an idiot, Annie,” he snapped. “You can stay the night. The roads won’t magically be safe and clear within a couple hours. It would be dangerous to venture out again. And even if they were, you’ll need more than a couple hours of rest before you can brave that winter mess out there.”
“But I should—”
“You can stay in my sister’s room. She wouldn’t mind at all. There’s a guest room, but it might be a bit dusty. She doesn’t entertain out-of-town guests often, other than me.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t. I’ll just doze here on the couch. ”
He gave me an exasperated look. “You’re still just as stubborn as ever, I see.”
I stared at him, unmoved.
“Fine,” he barked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let me get you some more comfortable blankets and pillows though.”
“Wait!” I extended an arm to stop him. My hand landed briefly on his forearm before I jerked it away, realizing I probably couldn’t handle physical contact like a mature ex-girlfriend.
“I was wondering if I could use your phone or computer. It’s just—my roommates are probably wondering if I’m dead in a ditch somewhere. ”
“They’re not,” Kylan said, making eye contact only briefly. “I called Rainn earlier, when you were bathing, and I let him know the situation.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised he’d thought of that. “Thank you, that was so thoughtful of you.”
After a pause, he muttered, “Well, I guess I have my moments.”
As he rose from the sofa and left to retrieve the promised bedding, I was left alone with my thoughts.
The very last thing I needed at that moment.
Because they were all swirling around in my head, hazy because of my exhaustion but still cognizant enough to know what they all meant.
Kylan Quinn. He had not lost his power over me.
Maybe it was more potent than ever.