Page 19 of You're My Person - For Always

Ever since Kingsley gave her the phone, she'd hidden it from everyone. Everyone except her art teacher, Miss Meade.

During class, Miss Meade would let her charge the phone as long as she completed her work. Since art class was her favorite subject and she loved to draw, it was easy to stay on task.

She pushed Kingsley's contact number and walked faster. When he picked up the call, she said, "I'm out."

"Good girl. Hang tight. I'll be there in a few."

She disconnected the call, unable to hide her smile. Everything inside of her felt lighter and happier. The days Kingsley came to see her were her favorite days. He was her best-kept secret. Every foster home she went to never found out about him.

The group home proved to be the most challenging place for him to visit. There were too many people around all the time. But she was older now, and it was worth the risk of getting caught sneaking out to have a chance to spend time with him.

At the corner, she stopped, looking left and right. Before she spotted him, she heard his Harley. The rumble of his motorcycle was loud and deep, making her chest thrum.

She rocked on the edge of the curb, anxious for him to get to her.

The moment he pulled up beside her, she shoved her phone in her pocket and took the helmet he handed her. She'd rode with him many times. With him, she felt free and happy.

He never spoke; he only winked and gave her that grin as if she were his favorite person when he handed her a helmet. She climbed on behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, grabbed his belt, and held on. The motorcycle shot forward. A thrill swept through her, prickling her skin.

After what felt like an exhilarating journey through the town, they reached the outskirts, away from the street lights. The wind whipped past her. She loved feeling the world blur around her. Having Kingsley here was a splash of adventure and safety all at once.

Kingsley slowed, stopping at their secret spot—a hidden clearing by the river, surrounded by towering cedar trees.

She hopped off the motorcycle and removed the helmet. Her hair fell in her eyes, and she brushed the strands back with her hand, uncaring about how she looked.

Kingsley swung his leg over the seat of the Harley and shared a smile with her. She threw her arms around him and squeezed. "I missed you."

He was a piece of her life now. As much as her mom, dad, and sister.

He set her away from him and pulled out a thin box from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. She stepped closer.

"For you," he said.

"Me?" She unwrapped it eagerly and found a set of colored pencils.

Emotions closed her throat. She ran her thumb over the box. They were the same kind of pencils Miss Meade used.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I thought you could use them." He cupped her cheek. "Why don't we sit on the rocks, and you can tell me how you've been doing before I have to take you back to the group home."

She sat down on the river rock, side by side with him. During the stolen moments with Kingsley, she learned what happiness felt like.

Chapter Eight

Kenna

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The low rumble from the motorcycles up the hill at the clubhouse provided background noise in the house. Kenna hugged her pillow and stared across the room at the door.

After riding to the woman's cabin that afternoon and working at the bar all evening, she'd come straight home, knowing what she wanted. She showered and slid into bed naked, leaving the door unlocked for the first time since Kingsley brought her to Gem Haven.

Having a little piece of Kingsley only made her want more of him. She missed having him in her life. She was tired of being mad, tired of hurting, tired of having him close but so far away.

Nothing about her life was easy. Her dad was on death row, going to die. Her sister was grown and in love with Zane. The future she always dreamed about was no longer in front of her.

She'd locked the door on the man she loved. Purposely keeping the door unlocked was a silent invitation, one she wasn't sure Kingsley would take after she'd turned him away repetitively since the truth came out.

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