Page 10 of The Guest

Kara smiles and takes a sip of her coffee. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“What happens tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“I go back to uni, and you go back home.”

I raise a brow at her. “So?”

The unspoken question hangs between us, and the fleeting sadness in her eyes pierce through me.

“Be honest with me. Is this nothing more than a weekend fling to you?” she asks, her voice losing its usual cadence.

“You think I go to business events and bed every woman I meet? No, Kara. This is far from being a fling.”

“So what should we do … after? I’m three thousand miles away from you.”

“You forget who you’re talking to, Kara. I have a private plane. I can go to you for breakfast, fuck you at lunch, and leave after dinner.”

She laughs, her head tilted back. “You’d do that for me?”

The ground shifts under me. Something warm and unfamiliar unfurls in my chest, and I feel an ache, sharp but sweet. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Her eyes soften. “We’ve only met yesterday.”

“But you felt it, right?” I take her hands in mine and stare at her left ring finger, already imagining what kind of stone would best suit her. “Tell me you felt it too. The first time I saw you, it was like something clicked in me. Like my whole being lit up for you.”

“Kev…”

I make my way to her, no longer caring if anyone sees. We’re not doing anything wrong, so why shouldn’t I show her what I feel every chance I get?

She sits on the stool, and I cup her face in my hands, blush blooming on her cheeks. “Tell me you want this, Kara, because me? I’m all in. You own every part of me.”

Her eyes flutter, and she kisses my palm. “I’m all in for you.”

That’s the only thing I want to hear. The only thing that matters.

Pleasure sings through my nerves as I kiss her—not just fueled by lust. This time, it’s passionate, my lips molding to hers, our tongues tangling.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Someone yanks me from her, and Kara sucks in a sharp breath, her face a mask of pure terror.

Craig’s jaw tightens, the muscle jerking as he clenches his teeth. His hands hang at his sides, his fists half-formed, fingers flexing as he glares at me.

His eyes burn. They lock onto me with an intensity that sucks the oxygen out of the room, making the air feel heavier.

I lift both palms, my gaze flicking to Kara. “If you’re going to be angry, be angry at me.”

He jabs a finger at me. “Of course, it’s you! You’re thirty-five, she’s just twenty-one!”

“Stop talking about me like I’m a child, Dad,” Kara says, trying to come between us.

“You are a child! He’s more than a decade older than you.”

“Just like you and Mom, then.”

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