Page 7 of Keep Me Safe

“About that,” I say. “Are you two…like a thing now?” I’m not sure why I ask. I shouldn’t care. They would be great together. She’s good for him.

“No, we’re definitely just friends,” she answers, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

“Could’ve fooled me,” I reply, grabbing a glass from thecupboard and turning to the fridge for water. Closing it, I turn back to face her and catch her eyes on me. She instantly drops her gaze, her cheeks flushed.

“Listen, I’ll talk to Jared in the morning about the party, but I understand you guys had a reason to celebrate,” I say, my tone softening. “Now, go to bed, it’s already late.”

She looks at me and rolls her eyes, “Yes, sir.”

My body tenses at those words. She moves to walk away, but I add, “Hey, I’m proud of you. For graduating today, I mean. That’s a pretty big deal,” I tell her. She simply smiles and continues up the stairs to the guest room.

It feels like Kira has always been at Jared’s side.

She brings out a version of him I don’t always see—lighter, less guarded. I watch the way she can nudge him into laughter, the way he turns to her instinctively, trusting that she’ll always be there. He needs that.

Maybe more than he’d admit.

I lean against the counter, rubbing a hand over my jaw. His mom left when he was two. I never told him the worst of it—how I’d fought for her to stay, how I spent years chasing something that was never real. She never wanted this life. Not with me. Not with him.

By the time he was old enough to ask why she was gone, I’d run out of answers.

And maybe I should’ve let it go, but there was always that flicker of something in his eyes, a question he never voiced: Why weren’t we enough?

I exhale, pushing off the counter. It wasn’t just the party that upset me. I wasn’t really mad at Jared for drinking with his friends. He’s grown now.

So why the hell had I snapped at him?

I wake up to the sun streaming in from the curtains in my room. The smell of coffee tells me that I’m not the first one awake. Pulling on some sweatpants and a T-shirt, I open my bedroom door and head downstairs to the kitchen. As I approach, Kira sits at the island, gazing down at her mug. She’s wearing a faded, oversized shirt and tiny pink sleep shorts, her long hair in a knot at the top of her head.

“Morning sleeping beauty, how’re you feeling?” I ask as I walk over to the coffee pot to get my cup, adding a splash of creamer.

“Not too bad,” she responds, smiling up at me, her chestnut eyes meeting mine. “I only had a couple of drinks.”

“You shouldn’t have had any,” I assert, taking a sip.

“I know, I know,” she retorts, her eyes playful.

She’s beautiful like this.

“You hungry for breakfast?” I ask, distracting myself from my thoughts. I already know her answer.

“I’d like my eggs over medium, please!” she squeals as she gets up to help me. I start on the bacon as Kira grabs the bread to make toast.

This is almost a tradition for us. Jared isn’t an early riser, so any time Kira stays over, she helps me make breakfast.

So, why is it that now I can’t seem to keep my eyes off her?

When we finish cooking, I make her plate with her special eggs, buttered toast, and a couple of pieces of bacon—still oinkin’, as she calls it. I hand it to her, where she’s seated on top of the counter.

“So, I wanted to say that I really am sorry about last night,” she explains, a frown marring her face.

“Kira, I’m not upset with you,” I step in front of her, resting a hand on the counter, my fingers grazing her leg. A slow heat spreads up my arm. I know I shouldn’t be this close, standing between her open thighs, but she doesn’t pull away.

Her gaze lifts to mine. Lips parting. A sharp inhale.

“I promise, I’m not mad—“

“Oh god, I feel like death,” Jared groans from the hallway.

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