Page 41 of Beneath Your Beautiful
“Not even for coffee? With two sugars?”
I lowered the sheet. I was acting like an idiot, which seemed to be a trend for me lately. He pressed the cold cup in my hand. “Thank you,” I said, unable to meet his eye.
He set the bag on my bedside table and fished my house keys out of his pocket, setting them next to the bag. I could only assume he’d borrowed the keys from my handbag. “What’s in the bag?”
“Your barista buddy said you like the cinnamon rolls. But I also got you a superfood salad.”
I opted for the cinnamon roll, and he looked disappointed in my choice. “You can eat the salad later,” he said.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him the salad looked about as appetizing as a superfood salad could look. Lots of sprouts and…I couldn’t even identify half the ingredients, and I didn’t want to.
Killian wandered over to my white minimalist dresser and checked out the silver-framed photos—Sawyer and I at Lejeune when he graduated boot camp, my entire family in Stone Harbor, a few more family vacation photos without my mom, and one that was just me and my mom. A framed oil painting my mom had painted, of the swimming hole we went to as kids, hung above my dresser. The bottle green water, darker in the middle where it was deepest, and flecked with sunlight. The wooded path leading up to the jumping-off rocks where we used to cannonball or do flips into the water. Standing up there, it used to look impossibly high. When my feet left the ledge, I used to imagine I’d soar above the trees.
“Yours?” Killian asked, referring to the painting.
“My mom’s.”
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, with my back against the headboard, I drank my coffee and ate my cinnamon roll. Killian sat on the floor, his back leaning against the closet door and drank his coffee. All the events of last night ran through my head while I ate and drank. As bad luck would have it, none of it had been a dream. Killian had been detained for questioning, so Hailey had ridden in the ambulance with me. When Killian arrived at the hospital, he sent Hailey home in a taxi. He’d gotten a little crazy and had persuaded the doctor to run every test and scan known to man. The tests revealed that I was fine, and the bump on my head was not a concussion, but even the doctor’s assurances hadn’t put Killian at ease.
He’d been a wreck, worried beyond what the situation had warranted. The part I’d played in ending up in the hospital was so mortifying I hadn’t talked to him about it yet. All night in the ER, his forehead had been creased with worry. When they finally released me, he’d driven me home, and insisted on staying on the sofa in case I needed him. I didn’t need him. I’d passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, something he’d insisted I couldn’t do while I’d been in the hospital, and now here he was sitting in my bedroom that suddenly felt too small and cramped.
“How’s your head? Are you okay?” he asked, worry creeping into his voice again.
“I’m fine. Except for the hangover and the embarrassment. I’m sorry. Last night…everything that happened…it was all my fault.”
“I pushed you out of the way. That’s why you got hurt.”
“So, I wouldn’t get punched by Adam. That’s why you did it. I heard Hailey tell the cops.” And I vaguely remembered it.
He shook his head and exhaled, like he didn’t believe me, and I could see the guilt written all over his face. Last night, Killian had dropped his guard around me and even my addled brain had seen his emotions on full display.
“It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault for getting drunk. And it was Adam’s fault for acting like a douchebag. You were trying to help me. He’s the one who came after you. You just tried to defend yourself and me. You weren’t looking for a fight.” Which was true. Killian had tried to walk away, and he would have if Adam hadn’t attacked him.
“I wanted to kill him.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. He’s not worth a prison sentence.”
Killian averted his head and clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek jumping. He was white-knuckling his cardboard coffee cup and I was surprised his grip didn’t crush the cup and turn it into a handful of dust.
“Did you meet him there on a date?” he asked, making a concerted effort to keep his voice neutral. If he’d been on the phone, I would have bought it, but I could see all the tension rolling off him.
“No. Adam and his friend just happened to come in while Hailey and I were there. And they sat at our table.”
“Asshole.”
“I know,” I said, grateful he didn’t tell meI told you so. Adam had two faces and I’d decided I didn’t like either one of them.
“Did you know Adam was doing coke last night?” Killian asked, watching my face.
“No. I had no idea.” Wow. Talk about stupid. I hadn’t even noticed. That was probably why he’d gotten so aggressive. “Why were you at The Rooftop?”
“You called me.”
I didn’t remember calling him or talking to him. “Oh. Did we…talk?” I was so drunk. I dreaded to think what I said to him. He rubbed the back of his neck and I winced. Maybe I needed to hide under the covers again. Whatever I said had prompted him to leave work and come to The Rooftop. But whatever I’d said, he wasn’t sharing it with me. I tried another tactic. “Why did you leave work?” According to Louis and everyone else, Killianneverleft work or took a night off.
Killian blew air out of his cheeks. “I was worried about you. I worry about you all the God damn time.” He sounded angry that he’d been forced to admit it.
“I don’t want you to worry about me.”
