Nash pulled me to an abrupt halt and arched both brows dramatically over long, beautiful boy-lashes. “That’s not fair. I didn’t ask you who you’ve been with.”
I shrugged, enjoying his discomfort. “Ask away.” I wouldn’t even need any fingers to tick off my list.
He scowled; he obviously had another question in mind. “If I say yes, are you going to get mad?”
I shrugged. “It’s none of my business.”
“Then why do you care?”
Grrr … “Okay, new question.” I tugged him into step again, working up the nerve to ask something I wasn’t sure I really wanted the answer to. But I had to know, before things went any further. “What are you doing here?” I held our joined hands up for emphasis. “What’s in this for you?”
“Your trust, hopefully.”
My head spun just a little bit at that, and I stifled a dazed grin. “That’s it?” I blinked up at him as we stepped onto the pier. Even if that was true, that couldn’t be all of it. I donned a mock frown. “You sure you’re not trying to get laid?”
His grin that time was real as he pulled me close and pressed me gently against the old wooden railing, his lips inches from my nose. “You offering?”
My heart raced and I let my hands linger on his back, tracing the hard planes through his long-sleeved tee. Feeling him pressed against me. Smelling him up close. Considering, just for a single, pulse-tripping moment…
Then I landed back on earth with a fantasy-shattering thud. The last thing I needed was to be listed among Nash Hudson’s past castoffs. But before I could figure out how to say that without pissing him off or sounding like a total prude, his eyes flashed with amusement and he leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose.
I gasped, and he laughed. “I’m kidding, Kaylee. I just didn’t expect you to think about it for so long.” He grinned, then stepped back and took my hand again, while I stared at him in astonishment, my cheeks flaming.
“Ask your question before I change my mind.”
His smile faded; the teasing was over. What else could he possibly want to know? What they served for lunch in the psych ward?
“What happened to your mom?”
Oh.
“You don’t have to tell me.” He stopped and turned to face me, backpedaling when he mistook my relief for discomfort. “I was just curious. About what she was like.”
I pushed tangled strands of brown hair back from my face. “I don’t mind.” I wished my mother was still alive, of course, and I really wished I could live with my own family, rather than Sophie’s. But my mom had been gone so long I barely remembered her, and I was used to the question. “She died in a car wreck when I was three.”
“Do you ever see your dad?”
I shrugged and kicked a pebble off the pier. “He used to come several times a year.” Then it was just Christmas and my birthday. And now I hadn’t seen him in more than a year. Not that I cared. He had his life—presumably—and I had mine.
Judging from the flash of sympathy in Nash’s eyes, he’d heard even the parts I hadn’t said out loud. Then there was a subtle shift in his expression, which I couldn’t quite interpret. “I still think you should tell your dad about last night.”
I scowled and headed back down the pier with my arms crossed over my chest, pleased when the wind shifted to blow my hair away from my face for once.
Nash jogged after me. “Kaylee …”
“You know what the worst part of this is?” I demanded when he pulled even with me and slowed to a walk.
“What?” He looked surprised by my willingness to talk about it at all. But I wasn’t talking about my dad.
My eyes closed, and when the wind died down, the sun felt warm on my face, in startling contrast to the chill building inside me. “I feel like I should have done something to stop it. I mean, I knew she was going to die, and I did nothing. I didn’t even tell her. I just tucked my tail and ran home. I let her die, Nash.”
“No.” His voice was firm. My eyes flew open when he turned me to face him, wooden slats creaking beneath us. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Kaylee. Knowing it was going to happen doesn’t mean you could have stopped it.”
“Maybe it does. I didn’t even try!” And I’d been so caught up on what her death meant for me that I’d barely stopped to think about what I should have done for her.
His gaze bored into mine, his expression fierce. “It’s not that easy. Death doesn’t strike at random. If it was her time to go, there’s nothing either of us could have done to stop that.”
How could he be so sure? “I should have at least told her….”
“No!” His harsh tone startled us both, and when he reached out to grab my arms, I took a step back. Nash let his head dip and held his hands out to show that he wouldn’t touch me, then shoved them in his pockets. “She wouldn’t have believed you. And, anyway, it’s dangerous to mess with stuff you don’t understand, and you don’t understand this yet. Swear that if this happens again and I’m not there, you won’t do anything. Or say anything. Just turn around and walk away. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed. He was starting to scare me, his eyes wide and earnest, the line of his beautiful mouth tight and thin.
“Swear,” Nash insisted, irises flashing and whirling fiercely in the bright sunlight. “You have to swear.”
“I swear.” And I meant it, because in that moment, with the sun painting his face in a harsh relief of light and shadow, Nash looked both scared and scary.
But even worse, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about.
NASH TOOK ME HOME two hours before I had to be at work, and when I walked through the door, the scent of freesia gave me an instant headache. Sophie was home.
My cousin stood from the couch, where she’d obviously been peeking through the curtains, and propped thin, manicured hands on the hipbones poking out above low-cut, skinny jeans. “Who was that?” she asked, though her narrowed eyes said she already had a suspect in mind.
I smiled sweetly and walked past her into the hall. “A guy.”
“And his name would be…?” She followed me into my room, where she sat on my unmade bed as if it were hers. Or as if we were friends. Sophie only played that game when she wanted something from me, usually money or a ride. This time, she was obviously hunting information.
Gossip to fuel the rumor bonfire she and her friends kept burning bright at school.
But I wasn’t about to fan her flames.
I turned my back on her to empty my pockets onto my dresser. “None of your business.” In the mirror, I saw a scowl flit across her face, pulling her pixie features out of shape.
The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you’re not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
I considered it my pleasure to acquaint Sophie with that concept.
“Mom said he’s a senior.” She pulled her legs onto my bed and crossed them beneath her, shoes and all. When I didn’t answer, she glared at my reflection. “I can find out who he is in, like, two seconds.”
“Then you obviously need nothing from me.” I pulled my hair into a high ponytail. “Welcome to the party, Nancy Drew.”
Tiny lines formed around her mouth when she frowned,