Page 18
18
Kalen
A s I step back into the bedroom, Sahara stirs in my bed. I take a long moment to watch her, to just enjoy having her here. Last night was pretty spectacular, and I’m not just talking about the sex, or how she wanted to take care of me. Fuck, no woman has ever wanted to put my needs first before, and I have to say, it fucked me over a little.
One eye opens, and I smile at her. “Good morning.”
The second eye opens and as she focuses in on me, she grumbles, “How long have you been standing there like a big old creeper?”
I laugh. “Not long. I brought you coffee.”
She pushes her hair from her forehead. “Okay, I forgive you for being a creeper.”
“That’s all it takes. A cup of coffee?”
“Yeah, apparently I’m pretty easy.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
She takes a fast look at the clock and sits up, pressing her back against the headboard. I hand the cup over and she cradles it with her palms and inhales. “Omg, this smells delicious.”
“Hazelnut vanilla. Tanner Bang got us all hooked.” She arches a curious brow. “He went to Scotia Academy in Nova Scotia. There’s a fair-trade coffee roaster there, and this is their specialty. He got us addicted, so now he brings it in for all of us.”
“How nice of him.”
“You’ll likely meet Maeve at the book club. She’s the club’s physiotherapist. I think you’ll really like her.”
She crinkles her nose, and glances down, like she’s trying to pull something from the recesses of her brain. “I heard about her. She had a stalker, right?”
“Yeah. Jesus, it was awful. Turns out it was her best friend from childhood.” I briefly close my eyes and shake my head, still shocked by it all. “It’s crazy to think her former best friend was behind it. You think you know someone and then…” I pause and snap my fingers. “Just like that they turn out to be something or someone you never saw coming.” She looks almost pale as she takes a fast sip of her coffee. “Hey, did you get enough sleep?” She nods, and holds the coffee close as she glances at the clock again. “Somewhere to be?”
“Yeah.” Before I can ask what her plans are for the day she continues, “Now I have to slip into last night’s clothes and do the walk of shame to my car.”
I laugh at that, and walk to my closet. “I have sweats, or you could borrow something from Taylor.”
“I’ll take your sweats, actually.” I pull out a pair of sweats that tie at the waist and a sweatshirt and hand them to her. “Thank you.”
“Hungry?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m good. I have to get a move on it.”
“Does that mean we won’t be going for a jog this morning?”
Her shoulders drop like she’s completely disappointed. “Well, darn. Can I get a rain check?”
I ruffle her hair playfully. “Sure.” I lean into her and press my lips to hers. “Last night,” I begin. “I want a repeat.”
“Of course, you do. I did all the work.” She huffs out an indignant laugh. “All you had to do was lay back and enjoy.” She rubs her thighs and winks. “Kind of a great thigh workout, though. Probably a better work out than you’ll get on your run this morning.”
I laugh at her antics, enjoying the fuck out of this woman’s smart mouth that I’m so desperate to devour again. “Fine, tonight I’ll do all the work.”
She arches a brow. “Don’t you need your stamina for your game?”
“Yeah, are you coming?”
With a cock of her head she asks, “Are you inviting me?”
“Of course, I am. You have an open invitation for the season if you want it.”
“Well, aren’t you nice.” She turns her head from side to side, stretching it out.
“Keep that to yourself,” I tease.
“You still want me to come to the games after our arrangement ends?”
“Yeah, sure. If you want.” Not wanting to sound too possessive I add, “I mean, I know Taylor would love to have you there. So…you can make it?” Dammit, I shouldn’t be pressing. I just really fucking loved having her there the other night.
She taps her chin playfully. “I’ll think about it.”
I shrug. “I understand if you’re busy.”
She grins and whacks me. “I’m coming. Taylor and I already talked about it.” She leans toward me. “Besides, we only have a little time left in this…arrangement. So, let’s make the best of it.”
“Right,” I say, and bite back what I really want to say: Can we make it longer? “My place or yours?”
“How about my place?” she asks. “That way we’re close to the Nook for a delicious breakfast.”
“I don’t care where we go, just as long as I can get you naked.”
She goes quiet, thoughtful for a moment, her smile falling as she stares into her coffee cup, and I fix the blankets over her legs, running my hands up and down her thighs on top of the sheets.
“Kalen.”
“Yeah, babe?”
Her head lifts, something turbulent in her eyes. “Were you always responsible growing up? I know you don’t talk to your dad, and you’ve watch out for Taylor since she was small, and I was just wondering if you had to take on a parental role?”
My stomach tightens at the seriousness in her tone and I turn to glance out the window. “I don’t really like to talk about it.”
“Oh, okay. We can talk about something else.”
I swallow. Would it be so bad to tell her? She opened up and told me about her family, how they don’t respect her choices and how she feels left out.
“Taylor talked to Dad. He wants us to visit for Thanksgiving,” I blurt out, wanting to give her something but it’s fucking hard thinking back to his betrayal.
“Are you going?”
She takes a sip of coffee, and eyes me over the rim. “She really wants to and I don’t ever want to disappoint her.”
“Why does she want to go?”
I exhale, and run my fingers through my mess of hair. Lowering my voice, I whisper, “Dad and his partner bought a new house. They want to make new memories.”
“Partner? Do you not like his partner?”
“No, not really.” I suck in a breath. “It’s fucking complicated.”
She sets her coffee down and takes my hand. Everything in the supportive way she gives it a squeeze unlocks things deep inside me. “I don’t know his partner, Miles, but no, I don’t like him.”
“Miles,” she says quietly. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see.” My voice comes out much harsher than I intended and she pulls her hand back, and reaches for the blankets like she should go. “I’m sorry,” I reply quickly. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just complicated…”
“Is it because your father’s partner is a man?”
I snort out a laugh. “Actually, no. I don’t care about his sexuality. Love is love, but loving someone while your wife is dying and having sex with him in the spare room right next to the room you share with your sick wife…that’s the shit that gets to me.”
She gasps and takes my hands again. “Oh, Kalen. I’m so sorry.”
The pain in her eyes, pain for me and the hurt I’m still carrying, whooshes through me, confusing all my emotions.
“That must have been devastating for you.”
I nod, and choke back a sob. “I didn’t know until the other day that Taylor knew about it.” Thinking about that steals the air from my lungs, and I force in a breath as I take her hand in mine. “I thought I had sheltered her from it, but she knew. Jesus.”
“She still talks to your father?”
“Yeah, she still has a relationship with him.” I nod.
Lines form in her forehead as she stares at me, trying to wrap her brain around all this. “She was young when it happened. Maybe that makes a difference.”
I puff out a humorless laugh. “No, it’s just that she’s far more forgiving than me.” A long beat of silence, and she gazes at me. It’s easy to tell she wants to say something, but isn’t sure she should. “Go ahead,” I tell her.
She pinches her lips tight and then begins, “It’s hard holding onto that pain for all these years, Kalen.” I angle my head and her eyes open wide. “I’m not saying you should let it go.” Her gaze drops to our linked fingers. “Forgiveness is hard. Especially something of this magnitude, but it’s just a lot to hold onto and I don’t like seeing you suffer.” She blinks a few times and adds, “Have you ever talked to him about it?”
“He tried, but I didn’t want to. I was angry.” I swallow the lump punching into my throat. “I guess I still am.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the sob trying to rise up in my throat. “Mom didn’t deserve that.”
“No, she didn’t, and neither did you or Taylor.”
As her words bounce around inside my head, I stiffen. “You know, I never really thought about it like that. I just always thought about how it affected Mom, and I wasn’t so worried about Taylor because I had no idea she knew. I wish I could have shielded her better. I hate that she knows. I hate that I couldn’t protect Mom, too,” I murmur around the lump in my throat.
Her gaze moves over my face and I can almost feel her looking into my soul, understanding why I don’t have any framed pictures of Mom and me. I carry so much guilt that I’m not sure I deserve to be in the same frame as her.
“Babe, you weren’t the adult. Parents protect kids. It’s not the other way around, and you’re Taylor’s brother, not her parent, and you were young. There’s only so much you can do, so much responsibility you can take on, Kalen. Don’t beat yourself up about that.” A long moment of silence and then she explains, “Kids should have their parents to turn to when they’re going through something like that, and your dad failed you.” We fall quiet and I stare out my window. She finally breaks the quiet. “I wonder if he didn’t know how to help you guys.”
“I mean, when Mom was sick, he still took us to our sports and things like that,” I tell her, remembering my conversation with Taylor.
“That’s good. Maybe that’s the only way he knew how to show you he was there for you when everyone was hurting.”
“Yeah,” is all I answer but then I snort as a wave of anger hits like a bucket of cold water. “He wasn’t hurting, he was fucking his lover.”
She winces and I get it, that was harsh. “Sometimes men hold things in emotionally. Is it possible he needed help and emotional support and…love, and that’s why he and Miles started a relationship?”
“I don’t know. Taylor said something similar to me.”
She glances at the picture on my dresser. “There were good times though, right?”
“There were.”
Lips pursed she says, “I’m surprised your father let you guys move to Darien.”
I roll one shoulder, not at all surprised he let us go. “I guess he wanted us gone so he could be with his new partner after Mom died. You know, to start a new life.”
She cocks her head to the side, a new kind of seriousness about her. “Have you asked him that?”
Her question takes me by surprise. “No, we don’t talk.” She nods, and I ask, “What?”
“I don’t know, Kalen. I don’t know why he let you guys go, but if times weren’t all that bad growing up, maybe it was really hard for him to let you go, and maybe he did it, because it was what you needed at the time.”
I let that sink in for a moment. As my anger begins to subside, I consider asking him. “You know Brady’s wife Melanie is the therapist in the group, right?”
“I know that now,” she jokes.
I give her a playful wink. “Now, apparently there are two therapists in our circle, always analyzing everything.” I roll my eyes jokingly. “That’s fun.”
“I’m far from a therapist, but I do love self-help psychology books and I read a lot.”
“My wicked smaht girlfriend.”
She smiles at me, and I stare back, knowing she has more on her mind. I arch a brow and she begins, “I know you’re trying to change the subject?—”
I laugh. “Like I said, wicked smaht.”
She crinkles up her nose. “I was just wondering if I could ask one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“With everything that happened with your dad, do you think that’s why you have a hard time trusting people?”
My head rears back. “What makes you think I don’t trust people?”
She taps her head. “Wicked smaht, remember?” Her smile falls. “Actually, it’s pretty obvious that you have a hard time letting people in…here,” she adds, patting her chest, slightly to the left.
She’s so fucking right about that, and I damn well know it. I also know I’m so goddamn tired of being a chicken shit.
Footsteps sound in the hall, and I stand. “Looks like everyone is up. You’d better get dressed.”
She nods and tugs on my big sweatshirt, then stands to pull on the sweats, and I shake my head as she begins to fold up the sleeves.
“What?” she asks.
“I kind of like you in my clothes. I mean I’d like you better out of them…” I step up to her, grab the drawstring on the pants and tie it tight for her. “But this is fucking sexy.”
I push against her, and she laughs and shoves me away. Pointing down, she says, “You’d better get that under control before going for your run or you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“I’m already hurting, babe,” I tell her, and she just shakes her head at me. But the truth is I am hurting in many ways, and if I continue to hold onto anger and fear, then I’m never going to have what I really want in life. Fuck, if I wasn’t so scared, maybe there could be more between Sahara and me. Maybe this relationship wouldn’t have to be just about sex. Then again, she keeps reminding me that it is.
Maybe I should convince her that we could be more.
But you’d have to stop being a chicken shit first, dude.
Yeah, there is that…