14. Mary
Fourteen
Mary
I am absolutely losing my mind.
That's the only explanation.
Because somehow I've invited Kai Montego into my house.
My house.
The same house where my mother still leaves me grocery lists on the refrigerator.
The same house where I've lived most of my life.
The same house where I've spent years being sensible.
Responsible.
Predictable.
And now there's a six-foot-something bodyguard standing on my front porch looking at me like I'm the most interesting woman in New Jersey.
It should be illegal.
“Mary?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
I finally remember how doors work and turn the knob now that he’s unlocked it.
Then I walk backwards, unable to break his gaze.
This man is looking at me–at me, a chubby little redheaded schoolteacher—like I’m Mata Hari.
And I am so here for it.
I mean, my best friend is currently living her best life being worshipped by a man who is actually identical to this one—though I see more differences every second I’m with him.
I mean, Kai’s jaw is more angular. His eyes are more hazelnut than espresso. His hair is more black than brown. And his smile is softer and wider.
Okay—I sound crazy.
Whatever.
Right now, I am crazy—for him.
The moment we step inside, the house settles around us.
Quiet.
Familiar.
And somehow that makes me even more nervous.
“Nice place,” Kai says.
“Don't judge.”
His eyebrows rise.
“I wasn't.”
“Everybody judges people who live with their mothers.”
“Firecracker, I punched a councilman in a church hallway. I am the last person qualified to judge anybody.”
I laugh despite myself.
“Fair.”
He follows me through the kitchen.
Past the family room.
Toward the stairs leading down to the renovated basement apartment.
My apartment.
Or at least the closest thing I've ever had to one.
The closer we get, the faster my pulse becomes.
“This feels weird,” I admit.
“Yeah?”
“Like I'm sneaking a boy into the house.”
Kai immediately grins.
“A boy?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Because I feel like we're both a little too old for that.”
I point at him.
“Don't ruin this for me.”
His grin widens.
“Sorry.”
“You're not sorry.”
“Nope, not even a little.”
The stairs creak beneath our feet.
And suddenly I'm twenty again.
Coming home from college.
Trying not to wake my mother after a late night.
Only this time I'm not sneaking downstairs with some nerdy boy from study group.
This time, Kai is behind me—and nerdy is not the word I’d use to describe him.
He’s close.
Close enough that I'm aware of every step.
Every breath.
Every inch of space between us.
“Mary.”
“Hmm?”
“Are you nervous?”
I pause halfway down the stairs.
Because lying would be pointless.
“Yes.”
His expression softens immediately.
“Hey.”
Just that one word.
Hey.
The way he says it makes something unclench inside me.
“You don't have to be.”
Easy for him to say.
He isn't the one whose heart feels like it's trying to escape through her ribs.
“I'm trying not to be.”
“You're doing great.”
I roll my eyes.
“Now you're patronizing me.”
“Nope.”
“Definitely.”
“Cross my heart.”
The basement apartment finally comes into view.
Small living room.
Bookshelves.
Kitchenette.
A couch that's seen better days.
My sanctuary.
My little corner of the world.
Kai looks around slowly.
Taking everything in.
The books.
The framed family photos.
The throw blanket folded neatly on the couch.
The collection of coffee mugs on a shelf.
“It's nice, Firecracker. It’s very you.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
His eyes find mine.
“Comfortable.”
My heart does a strange little flip.
“That's a nice way of saying boring.”
“Who said anything about boring?”
The way he looks at me makes it difficult to remember basic vocabulary.
Or breathing.
Breathing is also becoming a challenge.
“You know,” I say softly, “for somebody who's supposed to be good at this, you're awfully distracting.”
Kai takes a step closer.
“That’s funny,” he murmurs.
“Why?”
“You're the distracting one.”
The room suddenly feels much smaller.
Neither of us moves.
Neither of us looks away.
And for the first time all evening, the teasing fades.
Leaving something else behind.
Something quieter.
Something intentional.
His hand brushes mine.
Just a touch.
Nothing more.
Yet somehow it feels bigger than all the flirting.
All the joking.
All the fake dating nonsense.
“Mary.”
The way he says my name sends a shiver through me.
“Yeah?”
“You know this thing?”
“What thing?”
His smile appears.
Soft.
Almost uncertain.
Which somehow feels more dangerous than his cocky grin ever could.
“Me showing up with coffee. Coming to Bingo night. All of it.”
Kai pauses.
And I swear the man is actually nervous.
The realization nearly knocks the breath out of me.
I giggle.
Actually, giggle.
Like a teenager.
“You mean the stalking?”
He groans.
“Harsh.”
“Mm.” I tilt my head. “Somewhat accurate.”
“Maybe.”
I smile.
He smiles back.
And for a second, neither of us looks away—and that’s the moment.
The moment when I know this man is dangerous.
Because Kai is sweet.
He’s sexy and handsome, and ridiculously charming when he wants to be.
But he can hurt me—given the opportunity.
Because the truth is, I’m not very experienced.
I don’t do things like this with guys like him.
Even though Lord knows I really want to keep doing whatever this is.
The real issue?
I’m not sure I’m brave enough.