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"Oh?" I tried to keep my voice casual. "About what?"
He paused and my heart unexpectedly started pounding. "I did something. I don't think you're going to like it. "
My mind instantly went through a horrible list of things that he could have possibly done that I wouldn't like. My thoughts flew once again to Kellan, and what could have happened while watching that stupid movie that Denny would not have liked. My throat tightened, but I managed to squeak out, "What?"
He paused for a long time and I suddenly wanted to scream at him to just tell me already! "Tuesday night, after work. . . " He paused again and my panicked mind started filling out my worst nightmare. "Mark offered me a permanent job here. . . "
Relief washed through me; my mind had come up with something much more horrifying. "Oh, Denny, you scared-"
He cut me off. "I took it. "
My mind seemed sluggish. It took me a second to comprehend what that meant. When I did, my breath stopped. "You're not coming back. . . are you?"
"It's an offer of a lifetime, Kiera. They don't offer lead positions to interns - ever. " Denny's voice quavered on the phone. This was a hard thing for him to say, he so hated doing anything that might cause me pain. "Please, try and understand. "
"Understand? I left everything to come here for you! Now you're going to leave me here?" Tears were starting to well up in my eyes, but I swallowed them back. Now was not the time to lose it.
"It's just for two years. . . when your schooling is finished, you can come join me here," he begged. "We'll be back together soon. You'll love it here too. "
My heart sank farther. Two years? A few weeks without him had been brutal, how would I ever make it through two long years. . . longer than we had even been together?
"No, Denny. "
He didn't respond to that right away, the silence was deafening. "What do you mean?"
"No! I want you to come back! Stay with me, take another job. You're brilliant, you'll find something!" Now I was begging him.
"This is what I want, Kiera. . . " he whispered.
"More than me?" I knew it wasn't a fair question the moment it left my lips, but rage was building inside me.
"Kiera. . . " He said my name brokenly. "You know that's not it. . . "
"Really!" My anger was truly flaring now. "It sure feels like you're choosing your job over me, like you're leaving me. " Some tiny part of my brain wanted to stop this horrid conversation, stop hurting him, but I just couldn't.
"Baby, it's just two years. I can visit every chance I get. . . " he tried again feebly, his accent thick with emotion.
My mind fumed. Two years. . . two freaking years! Without thinking, he had accepted a career in a city thousands of miles away, without even bothering to talk to me about it first and then he had sat on that information for days! I was stuck here in Seattle. My parents had been lenient, sort of, about the transfer, mainly because of the scholarship. They wouldn't let me transfer to yet another school in yet another state! They wouldn't pay for it anyway, and I couldn't afford two years of school on my own. The scholarship that I had won was my once in a lifetime. I didn't see fate lining up for me like that again.
I was stuck here until school ended. . . and he knew that.
He knew that! In my rage, my mind leapt to the first likeliest conclusion - he wanted me to stay. He wanted us to be apart. He wanted to leave me. He was breaking up with me. Fire burned in my belly. Well, I wasn't about to let him do it first.
"Don't bother, Denny! You've made your choice! I hope you enjoy your job!" I stressed the word harshly. "I'm staying here and you're staying there. We're done. . . goodbye. "
After slamming the phone down on Denny, I unplugged it. I didn't want him to call back. I was so angry I didn't want to speak to him ever again. The thought of never seeing him again brought despair so quickly behind it, I couldn't breathe. I was gasping and my head was starting to spin. I sank to the floor as tears flowed freely and I could no longer hold back the sobs.
After what seemed like hours of gut-wrenching grief, I stood. I went to the fridge for water, but an open bottle of wine that we had never gotten around to drinking was right there in the door. I grabbed it instead and took a swig directly from the bottle. I knew it was a stupid way to cope with my despair, but I needed something. I needed a break from feelings. I would deal with them later.
Grabbing a water glass, instead of a fragile wine glass, I poured as much of the wine in it as possible and started chugging. It burned. Wine definitely wasn't meant to be drunk that way, but I was desperate for some relief from the pain.
It only took a few moments to empty the glass and I immediately refilled it. The sobs had finally stopped, although tears still fell. I could still see Denny's face in my mind - his beautiful, warm, brown eyes, his goofy grin, his alluring accent, the way he was always quick to laugh, his body, his heart. My own heart squeezed painfully and I pulled another long drink.
This wasn't real, I kept telling myself. There was no way things had just ended, no way we were now apart. He said I was his heart, and you don't leave your heart behind. You can't live without your heart.
I was just finishing the second glass and filling the third, and unfortunately the last, when I heard the front door open.
It must have been very late, or very early, depending on how you looked at it, and Kellan was home from a night with the guys at Pete's. He strolled into the kitchen and casually tossed his keys on the counter. He paused when he noticed me standing in the room. I wasn't usually awake this late on nights I didn't work.
"Hey. "
I turned towards him but never stopped drinking my glass to answer. At the movement, I noticed that my head was starting to swim. Good.
I studied him silently. His blue eyes had a slightly glazed look. He must have had a couple, or more than a couple, with the band. His clothes were the basic look he preferred wearing - a just tight enough t-shirt, faded blue jeans and black work boots. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was my grief, but tonight, he just looked extra-incredible. His hair, tousled and messy, was sexy as hell. Wow, I thought, with the part of my brain that still could, drinking him in was more of a distraction for me than the wine.
"You okay?" He cocked his head to the side a little while he looked at me quizzically. It was unbelievably attractive and I stopped drinking for a moment.
"No. " The word sounded slow to me, the wine working fast in my body. I felt steady enough to quickly add, "Denny isn't coming back. . . we're done. "
Instantly, his gorgeous face filled with sympathy and he walked over to me. For a second, I thought he was going to put his arms around me. My heart started beating faster at the thought. But he leaned back against the counter instead, resting his hands behind him. I continued drinking my wine and watched him, watch me.
"You want to talk about it?"
I paused. "No. "
He glanced over at the empty wine bottle on the counter and up again, at the glass I was just finishing. "You want some tequila?"
For the first time in what felt like years, I smiled. "Absolutely. "
He reached to open the cupboard above the fridge, to rummage through a stash of alcohol bottles that I didn't even know were in there. Reaching up like that caused his shirt to stretch in delightful ways, showing just a hint of the skin at his waist. The painful thoughts of Denny were slowly fading, watching this absurdly attractive man. Damn, he was sexy.
He found what he wanted and twisted back around to me. I sighed as his shirt lowered. Sudden loneliness washed through my alcohol-soaked brain. I was alone now. I had moved all the way out here to be with Denny and now I was completely alone. I watched Kellan's body move enticingly under his clothes as he grabbed us glasses, salt and limes. My loneliness faded and started transforming into something else entirely.
He finished pouring and with an alluring half-smile, he handed me my drink. "Cure for heartache,
I'm told. "
I reached for the glass and my fingers brushed his. That slight touch caused heat to rise up my hand and I idly thought he might be the better cure.
I had seen numerous people at the bar do shooters. I had done them before. But the way Kellan did it was so downright sexy, I felt a little dirty watching him. The wine surging through my system turned every move he made erotic, apparently. He used a finger dipped in alcohol to wet the back of his hand, then mine. He shook a little salt over them while I wondered at how my hand suddenly felt warm where his touch lingered. I watched his tongue lick his salt away, his strong jaw line move, as he quickly tilted back the shot of tequila, and his lips curl as he sucked on the lime. It took my breath away.
Gathering myself, I took my shot and then the tequila hit me. Where the wine had burned, this scorched. I made a face and Kellan chuckled at me; it did delightful things to his smile.
He immediately poured another. We didn't talk. I really didn't need conversation right now anyway and he seemed to sense that. We silently did our second shooter and I managed to not make a face this time.
On our third shooter, my body was warm and tingly. I had trouble keeping my eyes focused, but I still watched every move Kellan made as closely as I could. If I were in his position, I would have been very uncomfortable being relentlessly stared at like that, but he acted like he didn't even notice. I remembered his "adoring" fans at the bar and thought maybe he was just used to it.
On the fourth shooter, I could tell that Kellan's eyes were even more glazed-looking. His smile was loose and easy. He slightly spilled the tequila, filling our shot glasses, and he laughed when he took his lime. I watched him sucking on it and had the craziest, most intense need to suck on it with him.
By the fifth shooter, all the despair, loneliness and pain from earlier in the evening had completely changed into something else. . . desire. More specifically, desire for this god-like man in front of me. I remembered the electricity between us a few nights ago and, real or not, I wanted to feel that passion again.
Without thinking, I did what I had wanted to do on that very first shot. I grabbed his hand, just as he bent down to lick the salt away. I lightly pressed my tongue against the back of it, the salt pleasantly mixing with the taste of his skin. His breath caught while he watched me down my shot of tequila. I quickly set the glass down and placed the lime wedge in his partly opened mouth. I brought my lips to his. I half sucked on the lime, half pressed against his lips. Fire burned though me.
I pulled away from him slowly, taking the lime with me. His breathing was faster and a little ragged. I carefully took the lime out and set it on the counter, licking my fingers in the process. Kellan took his shot of tequila straight, his eyes never leaving mine. He roughly set down his own glass, licked his lower lip once, and grabbed my neck, pulling me back to his mouth.
Chapter 7
Mistakes
My first mistake was the bottle of wine. My second mistake was the tequila shooters. . . But currently, only the searing throb of my headache concerned me. The light blazing brightly through the window made my eyes water, but when I closed them, the room started to spin so much that I had to stare at one spot on the ceiling and hold my head perfectly still. I groaned. God, was I still drunk?
With only my eyes, I tried to look around the unfamiliar room. Holy crap. . . . this isn't my bed! Looking down, and instantly regretting it as my head felt like it might explode and the room circled crazily, I noticed my naked body entangled in strange sheets. Holy crap. . . I'm naked!
I tried to settle my body perfectly still and think through the haze to remember last night. Oh. . . god. . . no. . . Suddenly, I knew exactly where I was. I looked over to the other side of the bed, but it was empty, Kellan was gone. My head, and now also my stomach, protested vehemently at the swift movement.
Damn, damn, damn, I thought, suddenly irritated. I pressed my fingers to my temple, hard, trying to forcefully stop the merciless beating. Memories flooded my brain. Like a bloody accident - I didn't want to watch, but I couldn't stop myself either.
That unbelievable first kiss - eager, intense, and so full of passion. The hand behind my neck tightening as he pulled me closer. Another hand clutching at my lower back. Him slowly pressing me back into the counter and then lifting me up onto it. My legs circling around his waist. My hands tangling in his hair. His intoxicating smell, the taste of tequila on his tongue. . .