Page 93 of Kiss of Deceit
“Yes. Just you.” He began massaging my other foot. “I wanted to make sure you had enough to last the winter.”
“Why?” I blurted out. I stilled, the warmth flooding my chest catching me off guard.
“It’s your favorite,” he replied simply as if that was reason enough.
Oh no.
This—whatever he and I were—it was so much more than sex. Yet that realization didn’t slam into me earlier when I admitted that I’d killed Tristin and Leon. It hit me right now, when I found out he silently did something for me, expecting absolutely nothing in return.
My walls had been up for so long, I’d forgotten what this felt like. To enjoy being close to someone. My heart thudded furiously. Was I falling in love? I had boyfriends in high school, but that was all lust. Then my life went to hell when I was eighteen. I never had a chance to experience love, meaning I had nothing to compare these feelings I had for Kole.
I bit my lip. This couldn’t happen. It didn’t matter how I felt about him. If he ever found out about my true self, he would never look at me the same. I was a monster. Sure, I only killed other monsters, but it didn’t matter. I was living in a world of lies, and he could never be a part of it.
“Don’t worry, Dani,” he said quietly. I looked up to see him studying me. “I’m not going to say anything. What happened in the woods will never come to light.”
I forced a smile before sucking up a spoonful of the melted ice cream. If Susan found out what I did, she would pull this internship in a heartbeat. I hated that someone who knew about me was here. That hadn’t been in the contract when I agreed to come here.
“Where does your family live?”
His random question had me frowning. “My family?”
He nodded. “Your parents? Do you have any siblings?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because I want to get to know you better.”
That was the last thing I needed. My past needed to remain a secret. But there was no harm in answering his one question.
“No siblings,” I answered slowly. “My parents live in upstate New York. I don’t have a relationship with them anymore.”
“I only talk to my sister,” he said, his voice tight. “Never knew who my dad was. I haven’t spoken to my mom in over a decade. I have no memory of her not being an addict. You already know about me just by observing. I want to tell you more.” He met my wide eyes and chuckled. “Don’t look so scared. I’m talking. You don’t have to say anything.”
“Trying to trade stories of our pasts?” I asked with a note of teasing. “Is the present too much for you?”
“Dani, nothing you say is going to scare me away. I don’t want to talk about last night anymore. It happened, and you trusted me enough to tell me. That’s all I need.”
He softly trailed his fingers down my leg as he spoke. I should stop this. His admittance was dragging me deeper into my twisted lies. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to say a word when he continued.
“I raised my sister. I made sure none of our mom’s asshole boyfriends ever went near her. Most of our childhood was spent in my room because I installed a lock.” He blew out a humorless laugh. “You were spot on when you guessed how filthy ourhouse was. The only reason we had a place to live was because the house was given to my mom when her parents passed. My mother didn’t give a shit about us. She was never a parent. I waited until my sister graduated high school, and then we both left.”
My heart clenched painfully. He didn’t give that many details, but I could only imagine how miserable his childhood was. A stark contrast to how I grew up. My parents were amazing and did everything they could to give me the best in life when I was a child.
“What’s your sister’s name?” I asked, surprising myself. I shouldn’t be entertaining this at all. If anything, I should be distancing myself from him.
“Sarah. I try to see her when I can, but she lives on the East Coast.” He paused. “She has a good life, so that’s all that matters.”
He glanced at me, and I exhaled a long breath. He wanted me to share about myself. While I knew he wouldn’t push me, he was being open with me. Something I had a feeling he didn’t do very often.
“I have no one waiting for me to get back from this internship,” I admitted. “No family or friends. I don’t do relationships—romantic or anything else. I don’t get close to people.”
“Because of your attack?”
“It started that way…” I trailed off, my mind racing as I decided how much to tell him. “Once I got my degree, I began working at a therapist’s office. His patients are the reason I keep to myself. It’s impossible to read people’s minds. I just assume the worst of everyone.”
“Even me?”
A small laugh escaped me. “I did in the beginning.”
