Page 4 of Watching You
Five hours alone in his truck?I can already feel my carefully stacked mental blocks wobbling.
“Why would you care if she’s comfortable?” Kinsley fires back. I picture her with her hands on her hips, chin tilted up like she’s ready to take on a linebacker. The image makes me smirk into my pillow.
“Geez, Kins, I was just trying to be a nice brother. If you want her to suffer the whole way, then that’s on you.” Oh, that’s a low blow.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll ask her when she gets up, but she’s going to say no,” she argues insistently.
“We’ll see.” There’s a confident cockiness in his tone that makes it impossible for me to ignore.
“You’re such a prick, know that?” she scoffs. His laugh slides under my skin like a hot wire.What the fuck?
I roll out of bed, my feet automatically finding the rug’s edge, three steps to the dresser, two to the closet. I count them without thinking. The numbers keep me steady. Stretching my arms overhead, I try to shake off the sleep, but my phone cord catches my ankle. I trip, and the phone slingshots across the room with a sickening crack.
“Blair?” Kinsley exclaims, immediately rushing to my side, her brow furrowed with concern.
“I’m fine. Just tripped,” I say, forcing a laugh. My cheeks burn, not from the fall, but from the way my morning’s already out of order. I should’ve unplugged the cord first. I always unplug the cord first.
She bursts into laughter, the kind that feels like sunshine breaking through a murky sky. “You’re so clumsy, B,” she giggles, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.
When I look up, Kane’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, grin sharp enough to cut. He looks like trouble dressed in black and muscle. He looks like some sort of dark prince, and I, his unwilling yet enraptured subject.
“Look who came home last night,” Kinsley announces, her irritation evident. She throws her hands in Kane’s direction, as if introducing a star. He pulls an even more wicked grin across his face, and I know without a doubt he’s thinking about last night.
“Yeah, I see. Good to see you, Kane,” I manage to get out.
“It’s great seeing you,Blair,“ he emphasizes, his tone dripping with intention. My insides twist. It feels like a game, a wicked flirting masquerade, one I believe I wasn’t even invited to.
“So, Kane apparently thinks you’d rather hitch a ride with him to campus than ride with me.” She rolls her eyes, glancing between us in disbelief.
“Oh, thanks for the offer, but I’ll stick with Kins. We already have our playlists prepared anyway,” I answer, trying to come off with a cool indifference, but I’m sure it doesn’t translate that way. Kane has always had this ability to make me flustered and tongue-tied in front of him, and I absolutely hate it.
Kane takes a step back, his expression far too cocky for my comfort. He winks when Kinsley isn’t looking and then turns to jog down the stairs.
“Sorry, he’s an asshole,” she huffs, inadvertently echoing my earlier thoughts. “I’m going to go get dressed and brush my teeth, then we can be on the way.” Kinsley grabs a stack of clothes and then heads into the bathroom, but I’m left on my own, trying to comprehend the rapid-fire emotions swirling inside me. Unfortunately, my brain can’t handle bullshit this early without coffee.
I dress quickly, folding each item I’m not wearing into my bag in the same order I packed it last night. Socks, then tops, then jeans. I pull the zipper all the way to the left. My breathing evens out with each completed step.
By the time I get to the kitchen, Kane’s planted himself in front of the coffee maker like he owns it. He leans lazily against the counter, a coffee mug in hand, sporting that smug smile of his.
“Want a cup?” he taunts, eyes glinting.
“I do,” I murmur, maneuvering around the counter, but of course, he stands firmly in place.
“Whoa, slow down there, sunflower.” He laughs, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth.Why does he have to be so attractive?It really makes it difficult to hate him. Which I definitely should.I mean, I do, right?
“Can you scoot over so I can get some?” I ask, raising my eyebrow and trying fruitlessly to ignore how my heart races.
“I could, but where’s the fun in that?” he replies, amusement clear in his eyes.
“Coming between me and coffee is going to get you hurt,” I warn, but my voice is softer than I want it to be.
“Damn, you got sassy. However, I’d rather come on you,” he smirks, leaning just a bit, forcing our bodies to press together. I can feel his warmth radiating from him, sending all the wrong signals. My breath hitches, and I drag my gaze away, focusing on filling my cup. He’s so hard. No, I meanit’shard, his body.Fuck, Blair, get a grip on yourself. He’s just playing with you. Once we all get to campus, you’ll probably never see him.
I focus on the coffee pot, on the ritual, mug, pour, two sugars, stir clockwise exactly six times. But his presence scrambles the count, and I have to start over.
“Well, people tend to change when you don’t see them for years. It’s called aging,” I shoot back, clinging to the words like they’re armor. “Is there something I can help you with, Kane?” I surprise myself with that question, knowing well it will only stoke the flames of his bravado. As if testing the waters, he places his mug down beside us and leans in slightly, letting the tantalizing scent of coffee and him wash over me.
“Mmm, I love hearing my name fall from those pouty lips,” he whispers close to my ear, the warmth of his breath sending goosebumps over my skin. I can’t tell if my body responds out of reluctance or desire. I choose reluctance because I don’t want anything to do with this playboy, all-star, football god standing beside me.
