Page 33 of The Immortal’s Curse (Bound to the Immortals #2)

His smile falters. “I, uh… I just wanted to check on you. You haven’t answered my texts.”

Because I didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry. I was busy with Dad.”

“Makes sense.” He tucks his hands in his jacket. “Can I, um… can I come in?”

I hold in a sigh. “Sure.”

I hold the door wide. Kevin steps inside, kicking the snow off his boots as I close the door. From the corner of my eye, I see Dad hurry down the hall, followed by the sound of stairs creaking.

I follow Kevin into the living room .

He sits on the couch. I take the seat Dad just left. The smell of his cologne fills the air when I compress the cushion.

Kevin clears his throat. “So, how was last night? Kayla said you had a good time.”

Lie of the century.

Or maybe just the most recent one.

“The dinner theatre was really fun,” I say. What happened afterwards, not so much.

He shifts. “Kayla also said you met up with your waiter at a club?”

I stare at the popcorn ceiling, trying to figure out how to respond. Obviously, we never met up with the cast after the play. The whole issue of being attacked by Immortal rebels and rescued by vampires kept us busy.

But I can’t tell Kevin any of that, and I have no idea what memories Bella placed in Kayla’s mind. I’ll have to choose my words carefully.

I lower my gaze and meet his stare. “Yeah, it was fun.”

An odd expression pulls at his face. “Is that why you’re acting so off?”

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

He purses his lips, eyes searching mine. “I don’t know. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me or something.”

I have. But I still don’t get what he means.

“How does hanging out with our waiter connect to me avoiding you?”

Color creeps up his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe something happened?”

I blink slowly. “Like what?”

He shifts again, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. His eyes don’t quite meet mine now.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “Like you cheated on me or something. ”

I flinch. Guilt threatens to tear me apart. Kevin’s timeline is off, but he’s not wrong.

I flounder for a response, for the words he deserves to hear, words that will ruin everything ,—our relationship, and likely, our friendship.

I’m going to lose one of the most important people in my life. But I have to tell him, I just don’t know how .

I stare at my hands, too ashamed to meet Kevin’s eye.

Seconds pass, and he releases a heavy sigh and grabs my hand.

My eyes snap up.

“You know what?” He smiles softly. “Forget what I said. That was a shitty thing for me to say.”

But it wasn’t wrong.

My pulse pounds in my neck.

Do it. Tell him the truth. End this.

“I think I’m just nervous about going back to school,” he continues when I don’t speak. He stares at our hands. “I’m starting to worry that you won’t want to do long distance.”

Already?

I glance at the calendar on the fridge. The date Kevin goes back to school is marked with a big, red sad face, and it’s less than a week away. Where did the time go?

You know where the time went.

I’ve been keeping myself busy, preoccupied with work, school, visions, and debilitating headaches and nausea. I’ve barely spared a thought for my boyfriend. I’m the shittiest person alive.

I choke out, “I’m sorry you thought that.”

“It’s okay.” He squeezes my fingers. “I overreacted. I just care about you, Darcie.” His thumb lightly caresses the back of my hand. “I care about you a lot.”

“I care about you, too.” Which is what makes this so freaking hard .

Kevin ducks down until he’s in my line of sight. He offers a small smile. I try to return the gesture, but I’m sure it comes out more like a grimace.

“I’ll miss you when I go back,” he says. “But I’ll come visit. And we’ll have the summer vacation to look forward to.” He tugs on my hands gently, trying to draw me into his chest.

I don’t budge.

My forehead creases. “Vacation?”

“Yeah, my graduation vacation. I told you about it, remember?”

Right. That definitely won’t be happening. Not after I say what I need to say. Time to rip off the band-aid.

I draw my hands back and brace myself against the edge of the couch cushion, the rough fabric grounding me. “I won’t be able to go on vacation with you guys.”

“Come on, Darcie, don’t be dumb. Of course you’re coming.”

The word lands like a slap. I frown. “Don’t call me dumb.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly, leaning toward me, reaching out.

I pull back before he can touch me.

His lips turn down, frustration clouding his expression. “Come on, Darcie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

The apology hangs between us, hollow. The air in the living room feels too still, and the only sound is the steady hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to demand how else he could have meant it, but I swallow the retort.

No good will come from poking that fire.

This conversation is already circling the drain. I know what I have to do.

“Kevin.” I meet his gaze, forcing steel into my voice even as my stomach twists. “I think we should break up.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. Neither of us moves. Kevin stares at me, unblinking, his brown eyes darkening.

“That’s not funny.” His voice drops low .

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I’m not joking.”

I should tell him about Des, admit I made a mistake, and confess he deserves better. That I’m sorry. But before I can form the words, Kevin bolts upright from the couch, his glare cutting sharp.

“Is this because of me and Amanda?”

My breath stutters. What?

“No.” I shake my head. “Of course not.”

“Because Kayla told me she told you what happened. We weren’t dating yet. I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I know,” I murmur.

“I waited two years to be with you, Darcie. Forgive me for having a moment of weakness and hooking up with a girl who I didn’t have to guess if she really liked me.”

My jaw drops, but no sound comes out. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Heat floods my face, and I snap my mouth shut, shaking my head. It doesn’t matter.

“Are you going to deny it?” Kevin’s voice rises, nearly a shout. “That you don’t play hot and cold with me all the damn time?”

My gaze darts toward the stairs, unease spiking. If Dad hears this, he will come down to see what’s happening, and this will be so much worse.

I need to take care of this. Now.

I push myself to my feet, knees locking to hide how they tremble. “I’ve never played hot and cold.”

“No?” His nostrils flare. “You barely let me kiss you.”

“That’s not true.”

“I can’t even tell if you’re attracted to me.”

I gape at him, stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

His brown eyes harden to stone. “But I am.”

Confusion claws against my skull. This conversation is spiraling out of control. I roll my shoulders back, fighting to steady myself. “This has nothing to do with Amanda.”

“No?” Kevin’s voice sharpens. “Then what? We were fine just a few days ago.”

He steps closer.

Instinctively, I back up, but there’s nowhere to go. The couch sits behind me, and the weight of everything I’ve done presses in from all sides.

Kevin grabs my arms, not rough, but firm enough to stop me from running. His eyes search mine, frantic, confused, wounded .

“Let me go.”

“No. Talk to me, Darcie,” he says, voice cracking. “Just tell me what I did wrong.”

The pain in his face splits me open.

“You didn’t do anything.”

He shakes me once. “Then what happened?”

Des happened.

“Let me fix it,” Kevin pleads, voice shaking.

I take a breath that lodges in my throat. “You can’t.”

His fingers tighten on my arms. “I can try.”

Enough, Darcie. Do it.

“There’s someone else.”

One second. That’s all it takes for the words to sink in, and for Kevin’s entire face to collapse. Shock, confusion, betrayal. Then, a flood of pain that’s so raw it makes me physically recoil.

His voice cracks like thunder. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

I flinch one millisecond before the front door slams open.

Kevin and I whirl toward the alarming sound.

Des stands in the doorway, a storm of white light flaring around his body like he’s stepped out of lightning. His eyes burn with fury, locked not on me—but on Kevin.

“Let her go,” he growls, each word laced with threat. “ Now .”