Chapter 4 #2
My jaw falls slack as my tongue turns into the Sahara desert. A girl has never disarmed me this quickly before, and the smug grin on Kate’s face tells me she knows it.
I quickly wet my mouth. “Deal. But you have to promise to answer honestly.”
Kate frowns, seemingly affronted. “Of course. I’m a woman of my word.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the knees of my worn distressed jeans. The pebbles below my shoe crunch as I rack my brain for the perfect question. What do I want to know—
A sensation on the back of my neck sends my stomach dropping out from under me.
Kate’s slender fingers casually lift each lock of hair off my neck, twirl them around, and let them fall. It’s my kill switch, and she’s somehow tapped in to that private piece of information.
Maybe she’s more predator than prey if she can sense my weakness this quickly. I can’t talk—can’t think straight—with her doing that.
I shift my gaze sideways to a pair of innocent eyelashes, and I realize then just how dirty she’s playing. Like she can whip me into drooling submission before she has to answer anything. That may have worked for a girl like Kate in the past, but she hadn’t met me yet.
“What makes you the happiest?”
She cocks her head. “What?”
“What makes you happy, Kate?”
Kate looks adorably annoyed. “What, no, ‘where did you grow up’ or ‘how many siblings do you have’?”
I casually sprawl my wingspan across the step behind us with an easy grin. “Nope. C’mon, scaredy Kate. Answer me.”
She sets her chin with a glare, and it might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Photography,” she mutters.
“Care to expand on that?”
“Nope.”
“What if I dared you to?” I lean so close that our noses are practically touching.
Her gaze drifts to my lips before darkening. She wants what I’m not giving her, and I won’t until she finishes playing my little game.
“Ugh, fine. I started taking photos when my Grandma Chen bought me a DSLR camera for my fifteenth birthday. I got a receptionist job at a photography studio, learned everything I could, and now I’m the one taking pictures.”
She flips her long black hair over her shoulder, and a faint whiff of something floral distracts me. Kate’s obsidian eyes meet mine again, much closer this time, and she does that lip-roll-bite thing with her mouth again.
But I am a man of steel.
“Goals?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes, shifting away until she’s facing the water. “Get my fine arts degree and find a career in a museum.”
“Fine arts? That’s my major, too, but I’m minoring in art history. Why haven’t I seen you around campus before?”
“Is that your third question, Mr. Roberts?” She playfully closes the distance to the shell of my ear, breathing the words, “Think carefully.”
My thoughts go poof as goosebumps break out where her breath fans across me, and she pulls away with a wicked smile.
I choke out the next stupid question I can think of. “Biggest disappointment?”
Kate seems to pale at my question. A thousand emotions flash through her expression, but her lips are a tight line.
An urge to backpedal beats hard in my chest. I reach out and take her smaller hand in mine. Sure, I’d like to know more about her, but I’m not a prying jerk.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I say.
Kate’s surprised eyes cut to mine. She studies me for a good thirty seconds before she sighs.
“I promised. And when I promise something, I never break it.” She bites her lip, then tips her head to stare at the stars. “It’s a long story.”
I’m not sure if she’s looking for an out, so I lamely say, “I’ve got time… if you want.”
Another long breath stretches between us before she speaks.
“When I was a senior, I had to take an oil painting class for one of my school electives. I had this art teacher named Mr. Jones.” A small smile rounds out her mouth.
“He was one of those crazy high school teachers whose life revolved around their students. Mr. Jones never judged us on talent. Good thing too, because I sucked.” She laughs, her nose crinkling up.
The sound freezes me in place on the stone bench. It’s like her entire personality is condensed inside that singular sound.
“Term projects were coming up, and Mr. Jones tried to help me settle on a subject to paint. A couple months before my Grandma Chen died, she took me to Jackson Park the day the cherry blossom trees bloomed. Well, I had taken a photo of them and decided that I wanted to use the picture as my reference. But even a month into the project, it still wasn’t looking good. ”
She laughs again, and I instinctively scoot closer on the bench.
“It was like someone threw up cherry blossoms on a wood chipper. Not cute.” Another adorable nose crinkle.
“But Mr. Jones encouraged me to continue. To work hard. He promised that if I finished it by the end of term, he’d allow me to hang it in the Senior Art Showcase.
I buckled down, worked my butt off, and it took a lot of late nights, but I did it. I was so proud…”
Something tightens in her expression as she stares at the stars.
“Sounds like a hideous painting, but how is that a disappointment?” I ask.
She goes on almost like she’s talking to herself. “My parents were. Disappointed, I mean. Even though I had built a crazy good work ethic, they were mad that I wasn’t spending more time on my important classes. Even though I was. I had.” Her bitter laugh holds none of the warmth her real one does.
She startles as she catches my eye, as if remembering that I’m here too.
Her next words are matter-of-fact. “That project was for me. To prove to myself I could finish, even though it was the ugliest painting I’d ever seen. But I had to rush through studying for a different test and ended up getting a B on my calculus exam.”
“Then what happened?” I ask, and Kate doesn’t seem to register that it’s my fourth question.
She shrugs. “When I told my parents about the Senior Art Showcase, they said they wouldn’t come.
That they would be happy to celebrate once I did something worth celebrating.
” Kate fiddles with her hands in her lap, a long strand of black hair falling across her cheek.
“I didn’t believe them though. I knew they’d show up.
So I sat there waiting, but the only person who came was my older sister, Liza.
She didn’t want me to be all alone…” Kate blinks for a long moment, as if waking from a dream.
She notices me staring before she puts on on a bright smile.
“That’s me, I guess. Surprise! I’m the disappointment. And you are far better at playing this game than I gave you credit for. I wasn’t going to tell you half of that!” The apples of her cheeks burn scarlet above her fake smile, and a part of me feels bad.
“Don’t blame yourself, love; it’s all part of my charm.” I wink, but I’m feeling just as unsettled as the look in her eye. That story shook me more than I can make sense of. “That was nice of your sister to show up, though.”
A warm smile replaces her fake one. “Liza is the best. She’s my other half.”
Wow. What would it be like to have someone claim that I’m their other half? Would they wear the same loyal expression Kate does?
For a few seconds, I allow myself to stare. Her smooth skin looks so soft, her black hair shiny even in the moonlight. Her strawberry lips have a permanent pout to them.
On the outside, Kate Chen is the full package. Confident. Bold. Insanely sexy. But it’s the things she told me that makes me want to lean closer.
I’m no stranger to feeling abandoned, and maybe it’s my own messed-up life that is fueling this fire in my gut, but I sort of want to be the one that makes her feel better. Hell, I’ve only known this girl for a few hours, and even I would have gone to that hideous art show.
The vulnerable flush still heating her cheeks warms my fingers as I brush that stray strand of hair away. And for some reason, each passing second speeds up my heart.
Nothing about this feels normal. I’ve sat on these same steps over the years with close to a hundred different girls, but this feels…new.
The unexpected fear sparks a memory of sitting in Tuck’s kitchen when we were about twelve. Eric Sanderson strolled into the kitchen and shamelessly spanked his wife’s butt as he passed, making Tuck pretend to vomit into his cereal bowl.
I remember the twinkle in Eric’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around a laughing Mrs. Sanderson and said, “Wanna find true love, boys? Find the most terrifying woman you can, and marry her.”
Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now. The last thing on the planet, even. And although I love my mom, she’s a walking cautionary tale of why I should keep things casual. Desperation isn’t a good look on anyone.
But I do want a life like the Sandersons’ someday. A stable, loving family and everything I didn’t have growing up. A wife who chooses me the same way I choose her.
Not that Kate is going to be my Mrs. Sanderson, but I can’t explain this magnetic pull in my chest when I look at her. Like something inside me wants Kate to be someone that lasts.
A friend, maybe?
The boiling attraction in my body knows that’s a load of bull, but I can’t quite bring myself to admit the alternative.
What I do know is that Kate isn’t some girl I can take back to my apartment and romp around with. Not if I want something…anything real.
And I also know, as my lips meet hers, her embarrassment warm in my palms, that this kiss far outshines any other ones I’ve ever had.
She pulls away before giving me a tiny smile, but her shyness now seems genuine. And I can see my confusion mirrored in her eyes.
This girl has so many layers that I fear I’ll never be able to sleep again until I upturn every one. So, for the second time tonight, I realize I’m in trouble.
Thanks to the lamest excuse ever, I end the evening telling her I forgot an early work shift in the morning.
I can’t tell if she’s more disappointed or relieved as she climbs into the yellow cab she insisted on calling to pick her up. But when I ask for her number, she types it into my phone.
Before I’m ready to let this fascinating woman go, the taxi pulls away from Promontory Point.