Chapter 13 #2
I ended the call and sat there for a minute.
My first instinct was to go back, to check again, to see if something else had been posted.
But I didn’t. That wasn’t going to give me clarity, just more questions.
Kier hadn’t given me a reason to doubt him directly.
What I had was a moment, cut short, coming from a page that didn’t even stand behind what it posted.
I leaned back into the couch, letting that thought reassure me.
This is why, the moment we got to Houston, I felt anxious.
I knew once we left our bubble of solitude we’d be targets of the world again, inadvertently.
My chest felt heavy, just enough to remind me I cared more than I planned to.
That was the part I had to manage. I couldn’t control what he did when I wasn’t around, but I could control how far I let my mind go without anything real to back it up.
If something was there, it would show itself.
Until then, I wasn’t about to start acting funny over something I couldn’t even confirm.
Kier came in late last night, but he didn’t wake me up.
And when I woke up the next morning, I returned the favor, slipping out quietly for a quick jog.
The clip from the studio still bothered me, and I needed to clear my head.
When I got back, I hopped in the shower.
I had just started to settle into the heat when he joined me.
Kier turned a simple rinse into something a lot harder to walk away from.
He teased me, I tasted him, and then he long-stroked me under the dripping water.
When we stepped out, he asked me to get dressed, saying he wanted us to spend some time together before it got too busy.
An hour or so later, Kier pulled up along the edge of Hermann Park and cut the engine off.
The second I stepped out, the air softened.
It wasn’t cooler—hell, it wasn’t the temperature itself that changed—but it was much easier for me to breathe here.
It was as if the city itself had taken a step back and left this place alone.
Scottsdale had truly spoiled me to the point where I was side-eyeing the city, yearning for peace and solitude like this.
We walked side by side toward the garden as the gravel crunched under our feet.
It was beautiful and spacious. Water stretched out in front of us in shallow pools that barely moved, except for the slow glide of koi cutting through it.
Trees arched overhead, somewhat sheltering us from the sun.
A curved stone bridge sat ahead, and somewhere off to the side, water splashed over rock, creating a tranquil, charming sound.
We strolled for a while without talking. I think Kier felt how unsettled I was, and when the silence became too loud, he addressed it.
“You were in your head this morning,” he said. “In the shower.”
I glanced at him, then back ahead. “Is that why you brought me out here?”
“Yeah. Talk to me, Si.”
We slowed near the edge of the water, watching the koi circle close to the surface.
“I don’t like feeling like I’m not seeing everything,” I said, finally turning to him. “I’m not asking for control and complete access. But I don’t know… I just don’t like feeling out of place.”
“You’re speaking in riddles, baby,” he replied, taking my hand into his. “Be real with me.”
“That woman… she’s always around.”
Kier didn’t ask who I was talking about. He didn’t pretend he didn’t know either. His attention stayed on me, like he was waiting for me to finish, but that was it. I didn’t have anything else to add.
“It’s nothing there,” he said.
“It doesn’t feel like nothing,” I replied. I knew Kier wasn’t being dismissive, but I still couldn’t make peace with it.“She is everywhere.”
“Look at me, Si. That situation is old. It doesn’t have anything to do with what I got going on now… with what we have going on right now.” He gestured between us.
I focused on him weighing what he said. I didn’t doubt him but I felt as if I needed him to say more and he wouldn’t.
“Old, don’t usually operate like that, Kier. I’ve paid attention to her tone, her gestures… everything.”
His thumb brushed along my jaw before his hand dropped, sliding down to lace through mine like he wasn’t about to let me drift too far back into my thoughts.
“You watch too much of everything else, Si,” he said. “Watch me.”
I looked at him, really looked this time, then let my eyes fall back toward the water.
I wanted him to say more. I wanted to ask more, but I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him.
At the same time, I felt like he should have worked harder to secure me instead of making me sit with his short answers.
“I just don’t like feeling like I’m missing something.”
“You not, baby,” he replied calmly. “Not with me, I will always keep it a hunnid with you.”
Kier tugged my hand gently, pulling me with him as we continued across the bridge. Halfway over, he stopped, leaning forward as he looked down into the water.
“Look,” he said.
I turned to see what had caught his attention. One of the koi zipped through the water, bigger than the rest, weaving in and out like the idiots in the Houston traffic.
“That one is big as hell,” I said.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s you.”
I turned to him. “Uh, excuse you?”
He glanced at me, barely hiding the amusement. “Look at it, yall are twins. Always doing the most. Want everybody to see you and know you’re there.”
I pulled my hand back, laughing. “Boy, don’t play with me!”
He caught my wrist before I could step away, pulling me right back into him, his arm settling around my waist.
“Everyone knows you’re there, Si,” he said. “And even if they don’t, I do. I’m not fucking that up for nobody.”
My attitude slipped immediately. Kier leaned down and kissed me, quick but long enough to interrupt whatever I was about to say.
I shook my head, trying not to smile as he took my hand again.
For a moment the studio foolishness disappeared.
I didn’t bring it up because it felt unnecessary at this time.
Nothing was fully resolved, but I did have some sort of peace in that moment.