Chapter 12 - Kelsey
I glance across to see Mira and Miles talking. He looks upset about something, and it worries me to see him that way. Instinctively, I want to protect him and make him feel better, but I don’t know what’s wrong.
“I’m going to get some more hot chocolate,” I tell Jace. “Do you want some?”
“Not right now, thanks,” he smiles.
I stand up and head over to the picnic basket, a little closer to where Mira and Miles are talking.
Even though my back is to them, I can catch their words from here.
“Listen, Mira, you should know that this marriage with Kelsey is just for show. It’s not real. There isn’t anything real about it. It’s for the image of the pack and helping create a new view of the omegas for the elders,” Miles says without any emotion in his voice.
My heart runs cold. A foolish mocking voice spins in my head.
Of course, no one could really be into you, Kelsey.
You’re an outcast. You always have been, and you always will be.
I don’t even know why you got your hopes up about this one.
He’s a Beta for crying out loud. He can have any girl he chooses, and he got stuck with you.
I’m so stunned that I don’t even hear Mira’s reply. Trying desperately to silence the nasty mocking words that loop in my head, I count slowly to ten to pull myself together. I’ve always been the hardest on myself. But it’s ok. A good reality check is what I needed.
But is that really how he sees this? I mean, I know it started out that way, but I thought…we’ve been getting on so well this past week. I thought we were at least friends. He’s been treating me with genuine kindness.
I guess it wasn’t genuine at all. It was all for show-and-tell. And here I was, stupidly letting my walls down and actually starting to consider that I might let myself feel something for him.
I’m not saying I was falling for him because that’s pathetic. I just mean… I mean that I was starting to like him.
But now…
Kala whines softly inside my thoughts.
I’m sorry, Kala…I also thought it was real…
She whines again, and a heavy weight settles over my heart.
Tears sting against the back of my eyes, and I do what I always do. I scream internally, then I swallow it away. I push it aside and turn the pain into nothing but a numb, dull throb in my chest.
One tear escapes and runs down my cheek. Horrified, I quickly wipe it away with my sleeve.
“The hot chocolate is great, isn’t it?” Miles says from behind me, giving me a fright.
“Oh, yes, it’s really good,” I answer a little too quickly as I pretend to be busy neatening and packing the picnic basket. I won’t let him see that his comments to his sister have affected me.
Because they haven’t.
I never wanted anything from him anyway, so what does it matter?
The week that follows is incredibly difficult. I’m doing my best to push away the sadness creeping over me, and usually I’m pretty good at it, but this time I’m struggling.
The last thing I want to do is admit to myself that I’m upset because I had hope that Miles and I might become something more than we were.
But what we are and what we only ever were is nothing but a charade.
It’s Thursday evening, and I’ve come to almost dread the moment Miles gets home from work because when he’s around, I have to plaster on a smile that feels more fake than ever before.
I hear the Jeep’s engine as he pulls into the garage, and I groan, standing up and putting my book on the shelf near the fireplace.
In the kitchen, I make myself look busy, hoping he’ll leave me to my task and not expect much of a conversation from me.
It’s still so difficult to be around him.
I’m going to have to figure out a way to deal with this because he’s not going away any time soon.
Miles calls out as soon as he steps through the front door.
“I’m home,” he shouts. His voice makes my heart stutter as though I should be happy to hear it. I am happy to hear it.
“Hi,” I call back, tension edged in my voice.
He walks into the kitchen with a smile on his face, looking as gorgeous as ever in a black hoodie and black cargo pants tucked into his black combat boots.
“How are you? What are you making?” He asks, standing behind me and hugging me. He’s always so affectionate. He never misses a chance to pull me close, and I think to myself, Why? No one’s watching. There’s no show you have to put on in the privacy of our home.
As he pulls me close to his chest, I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from feeling the familiar ache of need I’ve come to associate with him. Poor Kala is silent, miserable, and pining for something that never was.
“Spaghetti and meatballs. Unless you want something else?” I say, acting carefree and unbothered.
“I love spaghetti and meatballs. Do you add garlic to the sauce?”
“I do…” I say stepping away from him, pretending I need to move something on the stove, but really, I just need to put space between us before I lose my mind.
“Excellent.” He’s pushing his sleeves up over his forearms, and my eyes trace over the tendons and veins that run beneath his skin. Taut strength.
“What are you doing?” I ask when I pull out the cutting board and a knife.
“I’ll chop the tomatoes and onions for you,” he says, gathering the things he needs.
The groan almost slips from my mouth before I can stop it.
“I’m ok doing this. You’ve been working all day. You should go and relax,” I tell him, hoping he’ll leave.
“This is relaxing,” he says. “I like cooking with you. Besides, this is your vacation, and it’s meant to be all about you taking a breather, not running around after me.
” He doesn’t seem phased at all to be in the kitchen with me after a long day at work.
How can this man be so perfect and so horribly wrong for me at the same time?
The man I married was supposed to at least want to be with me.
Actually, I don’t think I was ever supposed to get married to begin with. It’s not meant for some people.
“I…” Why does he have to be so kindhearted? Why does he have to come across like he cares?
“Are you ok?” He asks, pausing to look at me. And how does he read me so well? Whenever I’m upset, it’s like he can sense it.
“Yes. Fine.” I force a smile onto my face to try to match my carefree words.
My heart flutters nervously.
“You’ve been quieter the past few days. All week, actually. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Of course I am,” I laugh as though his question is just silly.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me for a long while, and I start to feel scrutinized. Miles cocks his head to the side and grins.
“Come camping with me this weekend. Saturday night. We’ll take the tent and head into the woods and make a big fire and get away from the compound a bit.”
The last thing I want to do is get stuck alone in a tent with him out in the woods, but if I say no, it’ll make it more obvious that something is bothering me. So, I say yes.
“Really?” He asks, smiling widely.
“Sure, I love camping,” I smile.
“Excellent. It’s going to be so much fun. I haven’t been camping in years. I’ll get the gear out of the garage and have everything ready for Saturday. Will you organize something easy for dinner that we can throw on the fire?”
“Yes, I think we’ve got a really big chunk of T-Bone in the freezer. That will be great on a campfire.”
“It’s like you can read my thoughts,” he smiles and leans over me to kiss my cheek. Such a simple gesture, but it makes my entire body go rigid.
Great. Now he’s cooking dinner with me, and somehow, I am stuck going camping with him this weekend.
I’m finding it harder and harder to smother this problem by ignoring it when it’s right in my face the entire time.
***
Saturday afternoon has me hiking deep in the forest with an assortment of gear strapped to my back. Miles is ahead of me. His ass looks as fine as hell in his camo print pants as he swings the backpack off his shoulder and sets it down on a rock.
“This is a great spot. It’s nice and protected from the wind, and there’s hardly any snow around today, so we got lucky. I’ll clear this space here, and we can make a big fire.”
“I think it’s perfect,” I say, trying to sound cheerful. “I did bring some dry kindling and a fire starter pack, so we don’t have to worry about the wood being damp.”
“I’ll break off some branches from the dead trees I saw just around the corner there. They haven’t been on the ground, so they’ll burn easier.”
“Good idea.”
Miles looks at me for a moment and smiles.
It makes my heart shudder, and my mind slip, almost falling into that same space where I can believe this is all real.
Like, I could easily convince myself that he brought me out here away from everyone because he wanted to be with just me.
But I think it’s more likely that he wanted to tell everyone he took me camping, and it sounds good for our image.
“I’ll start pitching the tent,” I say as he heads towards the dead trees.
“No, wait for me, you can’t do that on your own,” he scolds me.
I snort indignantly. “Watch me,” I snap.
His eyes narrow for a second, then amusement flickers over his face. “Alright, alright, that was a stupid comment,” he laughs as he walks away, spinning his axe on the palm of his hand.
Dammit. Why does everything he does have to be so damn sexy?
Why the hell do I have to be so attracted to him?
I’m finishing up with the little two-man tent when Miles comes back, dragging four massive branches behind himself.
“This is going to be one epic fire,” he says proudly.
With my hands on my hips, I watch him as he pulls one of the branches over to a clear space and starts chopping pieces off it.
Even with his hoodie on, I can see his arm muscles flex and push against the fabric. My hormones spring into action, and heat builds between my legs like a volcano threatening to erupt.
Oh, my word, Kelsey, maybe don’t watch the guy if this is what is going to happen!