Chapter 25 – Kev
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KEV
Tex sat on Kev’s couch, his jaw practically resting on his knees when he asked, “You kissed her? In the lodge?” He adjusted his hat. “And Ashley almost caught you?”
Kev nodded. He wouldn’t tell the guys much more than that, but ever since their…encounter today, all through dinner, even after, while he helped with the dishes, while Davis worked right alongside him, her hands and wrists all wet and sudsy, Kev was out of sorts, giddy, high. It felt too much like the euphoria of using, the bliss of oblivion, and he figured he needed to check himself, talk it out, get some advice before he stopped using his head entirely. Because in his life, that was generally when bad things happened.
“What’s the big deal, Tex?” Brayden asked, finally invited to the let’s-help-Kev-through-yet-another-crisis party. Without looking up from the Swiss army knife he was using to clean under his painted-blue nails, he said, “You kissed Shannon.”
“Wait, what?” Kev blurted out. “When did you kiss Shannon?”
“And then Clay kissed Maude Alice,” Brayden went on, like all of this was normal.
“What?” Kev practically shouted .
“It’s worse than damn summer camp around here,” Stanley said, giving his head a shake.
“Oh, please,” Brayden said with a dramatic eye roll. “You’re no innocent. I’ve seen the way you’ve been checking out the UPS guy who comes to the lodge.”
“That’s different,” Stanley said, his face turning redder than a fire hydrant. “That’s just appreciation. I appreciate great calves.”
While everyone muttered their agreement—because the UPS guy definitely had some killer calves—Kev stared at Tex and repeated, “When did you kiss Shannon? Is it serious?”
Ignoring his questions, Tex said, “The big deal, Brayden, is that Kev and Davis haven’t talked their shit through enough yet to be kissing.”
This knocked the wind out of Kev’s sails. He knew without question what his heart wanted, but that didn’t mean his head wasn’t spinning. The thing was, he didn’t want to make the same mistakes he’d made last time. And he figured a real important part of that process was figuring out what those mistakes actually were—which was something he still hadn’t been able to do.
“We’ve talked through some stuff,” Kev said, unconvincing even to himself.
“Sure,” Brayden said, the word dripping in sarcasm.
“You can lie to yourself,” Stanley chimed in. “But you can’t lie to us.”
When Ace suggested, “I think you need to talk to Boss about it,” Kev choked on nothing.
“I agree,” Tex said.
“Hard no,” Kev insisted, still coughing. “I’m not talking to Madigan about kissing his stepdaughter.”
“Oh, man. That’s right,” Ace said, like he’d just realized the complexity of their entire relationship. “What a tangle, huh?”
Tex clicked his tongue. “Kev, I hate to break this to you. But if you really want something serious with Davis, something real, as long as you’re living here”—he pointed to the floor beneath his shoes—“ Madigan is going to need to know about it. The rules are the rules. Believe me,” he said, heaving out an I kissed the head of maintenance—who is also kind of my boss sigh, “I should know.”
River could have kicked him in the chest, and it would have been less of a blow.
“Kev?” Stanley asked. “You okay?”
Ace grimaced. “Are you gonna pass out or something? You’re real pale right now.”
“I’m fine,” Kev said, rubbing his sternum, not actually fine in any sense of the word. It wasn’t that he wasn’t aware of his reality. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that Madigan would eventually need to be involved in his relationship with Davis. It was just that coasting along in complete denial was so much easier.
“Come on.” Stanley pushed up from the couch. “We’d better get out there.”
Letting Ace help him up, Kev followed them out to the firepit for group. While they waited for the other men and Madigan to arrive, he picked up a stick and started drawing shapes into the dirt: clouds, a horse’s head, a heart pierced by an arrow…
“You good?” Ace asked him. “You still kind of look like you’re going to faint.”
“Who’s going to faint?” Madigan asked, finally arriving to take a seat on his log.
Nobody answered, and Kev felt the weight of ten sets of eyes staring at him, until Tex said, “Uh, I am,” with a nervy laugh. “But…not really.”
“Okay,” Madigan said slowly. “What does ‘not really’ mean?”
Pulling his hat off and holding it in his lap, Tex said, “I’ve just been thinking about something lately. It’s stressing me out.”
“This is what group is for.” Madigan’s legs spread wide as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Let’s talk about it.”
Tex cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “I’ve got this friend,” and Kev almost barked a laugh. Was Tex seriously about to fake scenario their love lives in group? “And he’s feeling a certain way about this woman.”
Yep . This was happening. If the ground had picked that precise moment to crack open and swallow Kev whole, he wouldn’t have minded.
After a long moment of tortured silence, Madigan said, “Go on.”
Tex squeezed his hat between his hands. “My friend, he thinks she feels the same way about him. But…it’s complicated.”
“How so?” Madigan asked, obviously doubtful of the existence of this friend, but willing to play along.
“They live together, sort of,” Tex explained. “And they work together. They have other roommates too.” He flicked his gaze in the direction of the lodge. “And some very nosy neighbors. But they’re not ready to have the entire world know that they’re catching feelings for each other. So they have to hide it. They can’t be out in the open. Like I said. It’s stressful.”
As Kev listened to Tex, watching him twist his hat within an inch of its life, he felt, at the very least, a little less alone. Even though it probably should have, it had never occurred to him that he might not be the only person feeling the pressures of their situation, of the rules they had to live by, the limitations on their freedoms at Little Timber. But, of course, he wasn’t.
Every single man around the firepit had a story. Every single man had hardships. A lot of them had suffered abuse. All of them had made bad choices. They had more in common than they didn’t, and Kev needed to stop insisting that he was so unique, so special in all the wrong ways. He needed to realize that he wasn’t alone.
“That seems like a difficult way to start a relationship,” Madigan said. “How is your friend ”—he put special emphasis on the word because this wasn’t his first rodeo—“feeling about it?”
Reaching up, Tex scratched his head. “He’s willing to do whatever he needs to do to make her comfortable,” he said. “But he also feels wrong about it, in a way. It’s one thing to want privacy in a relationship. It’s another thing to feel like he has to keep the relationship a secret. It feels too much like lying. And since it was his idea to move into this…particular house, he’s feeling guilty about all the special accommodations she’s having to make for him.”
Madigan covered one hand with the other, pushing on his FEAR-tattooed knuckles until they popped. “That does sound stressful.”
“It’s also frustrating,” Tex said.
“How so?” Madigan asked as all ten men leaned in a little closer.
Tex pursed his lips. “It’s frustrating that it can’t just be them, taking their time, figuring things out like normal people. Like any normal new relationship. They’re both frustrated that so many other people need to be involved in what should be only between them. It feels unfair. It feels like a burden. And he feels like if he had more money or better luck or had made better choices, they wouldn’t be in this position. But now they’re stuck.” His lips pulled to the side. “And he’s worried he’ll lose her because it’s all too hard. Too complicated.”
When Madigan asked, “What do you think would happen if they just told their roommates? What would happen if they told the people around them about their feelings, even if they were new and they were still figuring them out?” Kev was so focused, listening so intently, that a spark from the flames could have set his pants on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed.
“Well, Boss. It’s not just their roommates.” Tex glanced down, finding something suddenly fascinating on his boots. “They also have this super strict landlord who gets real mad whenever anyone who lives in their apartment complex hooks up.”
It took every ounce of self-control Kev possessed not to palm his forehead.
Madigan rolled his lips together, biting back a smile. “Nothing worse than a super strict landlord,” he said, then he cleared his throat. “Okay. So they’re frustrated that they don’t have enough privacy. But they’re also worried about the repercussions of being together. Which might include getting in trouble with their landlord. Do I have that right? ”
“Not only getting in trouble.” Tex looked up. “But maybe even getting evicted.”
Wood crackled, embers floated into the sky, and Kev’s blood went cold. Because that was the fear. That was the risk. That was the fire he was playing with.
If he broke that particular rule, rule number five, the no overnight guests—which really meant no sex—without permission rule, especially here on his second chance and knowing he wouldn’t get a third, it wouldn’t be a bathroom duty situation. If he broke that rule, Madigan would kick him out. He’d have no other choice. Kev needed to be here. He wasn’t ready to be on his own. At the same time, he knew he’d risk even more than getting kicked out to be with Davis. He’d risk everything. And he almost had.
His brows slid together, his attention shifting from this night to that one. The night everything had fallen apart. The night in her car. The night he’d wanted her so badly he would have packed his bags himself just to be with her.
Only, he hadn’t.
He’d stopped himself. He’d said no. He’d blamed the rules, but that had just been an excuse. There was something else. Something that had kept him from taking that step with her. Something that had made him move away instead of closer. Some curtain that had fallen down between them. Something that had triggered him to use again. But what? What was it? Why couldn’t he remember?
“Sometimes,” Madigan said, then he corrected himself. “A lot of the time, our decisions, our choices, affect other people in ways we can’t anticipate. They can affect people from our past, from our present. But they can also affect people who will show up in our future. People we haven’t even met yet.” His eyes slid toward Kev, who was still in full spiral. “Maybe people we’re meeting all over again. Because our decisions, especially as addicts, have consequences. And the people we care about often have to share in those consequences with us. I know I’ve talked to all of you before about how difficult relationships can be for people recovering from substance abuse. Especially if you happen to live in a communal setting that makes intimacy challenging.”
Kev’s chin sank to his chest, his hope dimming, flickering, snuffing itself out. Difficult. Challenging. The words rattled through his head, churned in his stomach, because Davis didn’t deserve difficult. She shouldn’t have to deal with challenging.
With his magical ability to see into people’s souls, Madigan looked directly at Kev and said without hesitation, with nothing but a solid, resolute understanding, “Difficult. Challenging. But not impossible.” He scratched his beard, glancing around the firepit, at all the men one at a time. “And I hope you all know that the rules concerning intimacy at Little Timber are not meant to be punitive or to make your lives harder. They’re not meant to stifle you or keep you alone. They’re only meant to protect you. All of you. I believe Little Timber needs to be a safe, calm, and stable place for you to focus on your recovery. Privacy is so important here. Especially in a small town. I don’t want any of you to have to worry about who your cabinmates might bring home. And I will not risk having someone from the outside bring drugs or alcohol here. That’s why we have specific visiting days and curfews for guests. That’s why overnight passes or intimacy visits need to be scheduled and approved. Does that make sense?”
“It makes sense,” Tex said, sliding his hat back onto his head. “Doesn’t mean it’s not embarrassing as hell.”
“Is it embarrassing?” Madigan asked, leaning so close to the flames they flickered in his eyes, turning crystal blue to deep orange. “Or is it something else? Is it shame?”
Something inside Kev’s chest began to buzz.
“Because if you’re still feeling ashamed of who you are,” Madigan said. “If you’re still ashamed of your substance abuse, of being here, of how you got here, of needing rules and structure and everything a sober living home provides, then you might have more work to do before you’re ready for intimacy. Shame makes healthy relationships nearly impossible. It will become a wall between you and everyone else around you.”
With a dull, resounding clunk Kev felt like a shove, a punch, a slap to the face, a puzzle piece clicked itself into place. Fears. Beliefs. Insecurities. Events leading to other events leading to choices he wished he’d never made. Clarity finally surfacing through endless miles of murky haze. And he knew. As suddenly as dreams ended, he knew why he’d pulled away from her. He knew why he’d said no to her. Why he’d left. Why he’d been so sure she’d be better off without him. Why he’d turned back to drugs. Finally, finally , he knew.
“Oh my god,” he said, shooting to his feet.
“Kev?” Madigan stood from his log. “You okay?”
Meeting Madigan’s stare across the fire, Kev shook his head, turned around, and started walking toward the trees. He had no idea where he was going, didn’t even really know why he left the fire. He only knew he had to move, to get away, to try to breathe. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe.
Hinging at his waist, he braced his hands on his knees when he heard footsteps at his back.
“Kev?” It was Madigan. His voice soft but deep. His warm hand settling on Kev’s shoulder. “Are you okay? What’s happening? Are you sick?”
Are you sick? The question was fair, since he was hunched over and gasping for air. But it was also ridiculous. Because he wasn’t sick. Far from it. He finally had a shot at truly healing.
In a rush of air, his shoulders shook, his eyes burning, tears seeping from their corners.
“It’s okay,” he heard Madigan say, his hand dropping from Kev’s shoulder to slide up and down his back. “Just let it all out. I’ve got you.”
“I’m…not,” Kev said between giddy, unstoppable, body-racking spasms, “crying.” When he straightened, then turned around, laughter burst out of him, his watering eyes blurring Madigan’s confused expression .
“You’re…laughing?” Madigan’s head cocked. “Is this some sort of a breakdown situation?”
Grabbing Madigan’s shoulders and squeezing, Kev said, “No, Boss. It’s some sort of a break through situation.” He sniffled, his relieved smile stretching wide across his face. “Because I know. I know why I used. I know why I left.”
With a tightly furrowed brow, Madigan said, “You do?”
Kev nodded. “I’ve had this feeling, like this weight hanging on me, dragging me down. I thought maybe it was fear. Or even guilt. But it wasn’t. It isn’t. It’s”—even though he knew, it was still so hard to say it out loud, to admit it—“shame. It’s all just stupid, selfish shame. I need to tell her.” He turned, looking back toward the lodge. “I need to tell her everything.”
As much as he trusted Davis, he’d never told her about his past. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to know. He just wanted to believe that it didn’t matter. That what had happened to him then didn’t affect him now. He’d even tried to convince himself it had all happened to someone else. Some other kid. Some other life.
He thought he’d moved on, stopped hiding. But he hadn’t. He just hid differently now. He hid behind easy laughter and setting-people-at-ease smiles. Behind silence and denial. But he wouldn’t hide from Davis anymore. He wouldn’t hide from himself.
“I need to go see her.”
“Kev.”
“No,” he said, balking at the note of warning in Madigan’s voice. “This isn’t a joke. This is my life. I have to go see her.”
Reaching out to grasp his shoulders, making him focus, making him meet his stern stare, Madigan said, “No, Kev. Not yet. You’re right; this is a breakthrough. It’s not a joke. It’s huge. But you’re worked up, and it’s late. Come back to the fire. Come finish group. Come back, and let’s make a plan. Let’s do this right. Let’s be steady.” He tucked his chin, a small pause emphasizing his point. “Because she deserves your steadiness.”
Letting Madigan’s calm wash over him, letting his words sink in, letting the truth of them settle him down, Kev took a breath, nodded, and said, “Okay.”
Tap, tap, tap.
This wasn’t necessarily part of the plan he’d worked out with Madigan after group, but while he watched her through her bedroom window, biting his lip as she rolled over and kicked a leg out from under her covers before falling back to sleep, he tried not to be too hard on himself about the improvisation.
He tapped on her window again.
She raised her head and groaned. “Murphy? That you?” Sitting up in bed, her head turning from her door to the window when he tapped a third time, she finally noticed him through the glass. A slow, sleepy smile spread across her face. And if anything more beautiful existed in the world, he’d certainly never seen it.
“Hey,” he said when she slid the window open. “Sorry to wake you.”
She glanced at the alarm clock on her desk. “You’re out past curfew. Is everything okay?”
“I know,” he said. “I won’t stay long. I just”—he blew out a slow breath, taking in her barely there white tank top, her pink underwear, her bare legs. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she said, leaning her elbows on the window frame, reaching out to brush his hair back off his forehead.
“Can I kiss you?” He hadn’t meant to ask her that. Hadn’t meant to let this visit get physical. Despite this little late-night ad-lib, he did have a plan for making things right with her, for truly apologizing because he finally knew what he was apologizing for. A very solid plan that didn’t involve kissing her through her window. But her eyes, the way they sparkled in the moonlight…
When she nodded, when their lips met, the kiss was slow and sweet. And maybe even the best-laid plans were really just guidelines. Suggestions, at best.
After a length of time that was nowhere near long enough, they pulled apart, and he asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m riding in the morning, then helping mom with rental inventory after lunch.”
Tucking that unruly curl of hers, his favorite one, behind her ear, he asked, “Do you want to come to the barn with me when you’re done?”
Her eyes popped wide as her mouth fell open. “Really? Will I finally get to meet your other girlfriend?”
His heart skipped right over its next beat. “My other girlfriend?” he asked as warmth spread out beneath his ribs.
She blushed like a rose, color flaring through her cheeks. Then the motion sensor light from the deck flicked on.
“You should go,” she whispered, staring at his lips, her tongue sneaking out to wet hers. “Don’t want to get caught.”
He wanted to kiss her again, kiss her all night long, kiss her lips and her neck and her belly, the soft, supple skin of her inner thighs… But the weight of everything he planned to tell her tomorrow kept him rooted. Would it be too much? Would he scare her off? Would he only make her leave him faster?
Feeling himself start to spin out, he heard Madigan say she deserves your steadiness in his mind.
Taking a breath, centering himself again, he took her hand, brought it to his lips, and said, “Some things are worth the risk.”