Page 33 of In Spades

“Okay,” I said casually. “And your hang-up is that you think I’m going to die of old age between dinner and dessert?”

Kristin laughed under her breath.

“Seriously, Kris, I know there’s a little bit of an age difference, but how am I that close to your parents’ ages?”

“I wouldn’t consider thirteen years a little age difference.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

She sighed. “My mom was sixteen when she had me. She’s forty-one now.”

“Well, would you look at that?” I mused, grinning as I packed up the leftovers to take back to my room. “You just shared something.”

She snorted. “And to think I was gonna miss you when you check out next week.”

I laughed. “Sunshine, I live in New Bern. I can still come bother you whenever I want.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You live in New Bern?”

I nodded.

We cleared the wrought iron table and pushed the chairs in. Kristin straightened out her polo shirt and checked something on her phone. Texts from someone named Logan filled her screen.

For a split second, a surge of jealousy coursed through my veins. Easy, dude.

“I live in Havelock,” she offered up.

“Really?” I said, sounding far too giddy. I cleared my throat and composed myself. “That’s like twenty minutes away from me.”

Kristin smiled. “I know.”

“How much time do you have left on your break?”

She looked at her phone and sighed. “Ten minutes.”

“Take a walk with me?”

I didn’t give her a chance to say no. I left the Revanche bags on the table and took her hand in mine, leading her down to the water’s edge. The current moved quickly, and a steady breeze took the edge off the blasphemous Carolina heat.

Kristin’s hand fit inside mine. I stroked the back of her fingers and looked down at her as we walked along the boardwalk.

“You wanted to know why I was in foster care,” I began. “Parental neglect. I don’t remember a lot of it, and I guess that’s a good thing. I remember being hungry all the time. Scared when men I didn’t know would show up. My mom was always drunk or high. She had a revolving door of boyfriends that provided her with a fix.

“When I got older, I started asking questions. My foster parents told me that one of the old ladies who lived beside us at the trailer park called child protective services. My mom didn’t even try to fight for me. It was probably a good thing she didn’t. I think that would have made it worse for me. I was lucky, though. My foster parents were great, and I keep in touch with them. Some kids in the system aren’t so lucky.”

Kristin stared at the water quietly for a while. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

I sat down on the boardwalk and let my legs hang over the edge. “Don’t be.”

She sat down beside me, dangling her perfectly white shoes over the water.

I took a chance and leaned back on my hands, bracing my arm behind her back. “Every superhero has a tragic origin story,” I said. “It’s the price I pay for being awesome.”

Kristin laughed and leaned into my shoulder. It may have been an innocent gesture, but it made me feel on top of the world.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her in close.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked. She may have been the quiet type, but I’d learned the wheels were always turning in her mind.

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