Page 7 of Finding Romance (Romances in the Building #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kasen

The greatest part of this building is the amount of small nooks and crannies where one can be alone while also not being in their apartment. I turn to my two sea anemones.

“I’m going out. You two behave,” I say to them as if they understand or even acknowledge my existence.

I look at Winston, one of my clownfish. He’s nuzzling Napoleon, poking his head in and out of the tentacles.

Napoleon is a beadlet anemone. He’s feisty.

That’s why I wanted him. My friends think I’m crazy for having such an obsession with a creature that seemingly doesn’t even know I exist, but I find them fascinating.

From the first time I went diving, I was drawn to them.

They are beautiful, fascinating creatures that are misunderstood by so many.

I guess I relate to them in some strange way.

“Where’s Churchill?” I ask him, and as if on cue, the other clownfish appears from behind Ulysses, a snakelocks anemone. “You’re in charge, Churchill.”

And with that, I leave in search of the back courtyard.

Everyone always hangs out on the rooftop but seldom in the back courtyard.

It’s not much to look at, just two benches, a butterfly bush, and a pot of seasonal flowers that Jessa switches out each season.

I’m surprised when I walk outside to find an ass sticking up in the air.

I mean, it’s a nice ass, but what in the hell is going on? The ass moves and I see Piper’s head turn toward me.

“Uh, hey,” I manage as I realize I’ve been caught ogling her ass and quickly look down at the ground to see what she was doing. For some reason, this woman keeps catching me off guard which is not something that happens to me often. I’ve literally trained to be two steps ahead of others.

She stands and brushes off her knees. “Hey,” she says with a big smile that somehow starts thawing my frozen heart. Fuck, I don’t like this one bit. Detached. Life is easier when I’m detached.

I look around, assessing the situation but I see nothing out of the ordinary. “What are you doing?” I finally ask as I study her unusual eyes in the sunlight, noticing that the green one actually has a fair amount of blue flecks in it.

“I came out to see if my aunt might have lost her necklace out here. She said she had sat out here right before the accident, but so far, I haven’t found anything,” she says with a sigh as she looks around us as if this necklace will magically appear out of thin air.

“Do you know where else she was that day?” I ask because, damn it, I did promise to help her look. And aside from a few attempts to assist, I haven’t really been looking. I don’t love being social, but a promise is a promise.

Piper pushes some loose hair behind her ear. “Well, she last remembers wearing it two days beforehand. She had taken it to get cleaned. Otherwise, she never takes it off,” she starts.

“It’s that small gold chain with the little flower that has a diamond in the center, right?” I recall.

She nods. “Yeah, my uncle gave it to her for their last anniversary. I know it means a lot to her.”

Having lost so many people I love, something about this pulls at my heartstrings. Who knew that damn organ wasn’t as frozen as I thought?

“OK, so can we get a list of places she went those few days?” I ask.

With another sigh, she sits down on a bench.

“I wish. I already asked. But she doesn’t remember.

Margie said they had gotten coffee and came over here.

I checked the café but didn’t see anything there.

Cam said she’d be on the lookout. I’ve checked the rooftop.

And obviously the lost and found we checked at the hospital.

I haven’t gone by the fire station where the ambulance came from yet. I should probably do that,” she says.

“Do you know if it was the one around the corner?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes, that’s what the medical report she got says. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes. Come on, it’s not far and I was just wanting some fresh air,” I state.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your time,” she says as she stands. Her foot slips on some moss on a paver and she starts to fall backward. I reach out, grabbing her, and pulling her against me. Her hands fly to my chest as she steadies herself.

For reasons I’m not ready to explore, I don’t let go right away.

“You alright, there?” I ask as I look into those multicolored eyes that are wide with surprise.

She nods but doesn’t speak.

“Are you guys going to kiss?” Ava’s voice rings out from above us.

We both look up to find her leaning out a window.

“Ava, get inside. It’s dangerous to lean out of the window,” I scold.

“Mr. Gray said the same thing the other day,” she says as if grownups are idiots.

“Ava,” I growl.

She giggles and slides back inside her apartment.

Piper clears her throat and I slowly release her.

“She’s a funny kid, huh?” Piper says, her cheeks are bright pink and I wonder if she’s embarrassed to have been caught with me in such a position.

“That she is,” I agree as I follow her out to the front where I turn right and she walks alongside me.

“So, I heard you were helping your grandmother recently,” she starts as we begin walking toward the fire station.

I nod.

“Is she doing better?” she asks.

I nod.

“You don’t say much, do you?” she questions.

I shrug. “I guess not.”

I glance over to find her pursing her lips as if considering this fact about me.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Are we playing twenty questions?” I ask.

“Sure,” she replies, a grin spreading across her face.

I groan and she giggles. “Oh, come on, indulge me. I mean, it’s not like I live here. You probably won’t see me again for months,” she explains. “Or more, depending on if I ever find a job and it’s not around here.”

“You’re looking for a job?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m trying to figure that whole career thing out,” she says and then lowers her voice to a whisper. “It’s not going very well.”

I fight a laugh because I remember being in those same shoes years ago when I decided just to join the military instead of going to college or getting a job. “I see.”

“So?”

“So?” I repeat.

“Where did you grow up?” she repeats her question. This woman is frustrating as fuck. I can tell she isn’t going to relent, so I figure what the hell?

“Well, when I was a wee lad, I lived in Maine with my parents. And then when I was a teenager, I went to live with my grandparents in Scotland,” I explain.

I look back to see her grinning again.

“What?” I ask as I try to figure out what I said that was so funny.

“Wee lad,” she repeats my words with a laugh. “That explains why I sometimes hear a faint accent when you speak.”

She’s not wrong. I tend to have my Scottish accent pop out when I drink or when my guard is down.

My father’s accent remained strong until his final day and then living on a remote Scottish island for four years had me acquiring a bit of one.

I did my best to cover it up when I decided to go back to the States and join the military.

“I suppose so,” I say as we reach the end of the block and I turn us right.

“So, you must be close to your grandmother,” she says, her elbow brushing my arm. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She’s looking at me and not watching where she is going.

“Watch your step, curious cat,” I tease.

She looks back down in time to avoid a planter along the edge of the sidewalk. “I guess what they say about curiosity killing the cat is true, huh?” she says with a slight laugh, keeping her eyes ahead.

“How long were you in the military?” she asks.

I raise an eyebrow because I never told her I was in the military.

“I saw your dog tags on the wall of your living room when you opened your door the other day,” she explains and I’m instantly impressed by her attention to such a small detail.

But I still hate all the questioning. This is why I don’t date. So many questions. So many things I don’t want to remember. I’ve spent my whole life running from my memories. And so far, I’ve managed to keep away from them.

“Five years,” I say, remembering when a beachside bomb changed my life.

It gave me a concussion, a nasty scar on my forehead, and some hearing damage.

But it was the stitches on my trigger finger that kept me from going back into the field.

I still don’t feel everything on that finger, but I have most of my mobility back.

I got honorably discharged and then I went back to school and got my degree in cybersecurity. I managed to snag an internship with a government contractor my senior year and I’ve been working with them and now as a private consultant for the past three years.

“And now you do computer stuff?” she asks.

“Cybersecurity,” I correct.

“That sounds intense,” she states as she stops to pet a dog that a man is walking.

We continue on our way.

“What do you want to do?” I ask, deciding to deflect her questioning with one of my own.

She’s quiet for a few steps. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“You like painting and drawing and you’re good at it. Can’t you do that?” I ask as I remember watching her paint. It’s odd how soothing it was to watch.

“I could, but it’s hard to get started. Not a lot of money and I need to pay my bills,” she explains with a sad smile.

“So what are you going to do?” I inquire because I hate to see talent wasted.

Shrugging, she looks away and I wonder what she’s thinking.

“I guess get a normal job for now,” she says in a distant voice.

I can tell she’s conflicted. Even though I’m nearly a decade older than her, I remember starting out as an adult and how hard it was.

I made a rash decision to join the Navy and it changed the course of my entire life, both for bad and good.

“Well, you can still freelance, right?”

“I suppose so,” she says as we round the last corner and I point to the fire station.

Her face returns to its happy norm as she grabs my hand. “Come on, let’s go see if they have it,” she says excitedly.

For some reason, her innocent happiness makes me happy, a feeling I haven’t experienced in a while, at least not like this.

I honestly don’t know how to respond to her.

Unlike so many women I interact with, she hasn’t once indicated she wants anything sexual from me.

She doesn’t spend the entire conversation ogling me, and she wants to talk, really talk.

She’s a breath of fresh air and it unnerves me a bit.

I’ve never been caught off guard by a woman in all my life.

And I don’t know what to make of it, but I do know I like spending time with her.

So as we walk inside the fire station, a small part of me hopes we don’t find the necklace today, because then I’ll have an excuse to spend more time with her.