Kes took the opportunity immediately and slanted his mouth over mine, kissing me hard, but not trying to deepen the kiss.
Finally, he returned my smile. “I’m still gonna whup your pretty ass in that Zorba class.”
“It’s Zumba! Jeez, you don’t even know what it is!”
He grinned at me. “Doesn’t matter.”
I couldn’t help thinking that I didn’t really care whether I won or lost, because seeing Kes in a dance class where everyone else was female, including the teacher . . . well, there are some things in life that are priceless.
“Deal,” I said. “Except I have to go to the dinner anyway, and I’d really like you to come with me.”
Kes laughed. “You welching on the bet already? Yeah, whatever. But when I win, you gotta come to LA.”
We shook hands, and then I noticed the time.
“Oh wow, I’m going to be late. I’ve got to run.”
“Maybe we could go do something after you get off? I could meet you at the school.”
“Sure, that’d be great. Come about five—I need some time to decompress after the students have left for the day.”
Kes grinned. “See you then, Miss Andersen.”
I kissed him quickly, skipping away from his roving hands before he started something we couldn’t finish.
“Rain check!” I called over my shoulder as I rushed off to shower and dress.
Kes’s laugh followed me into the bathroom. And even as I drove to school, I was still smiling.
I arrived at school shortly after six. That gave me some precious time to organize a few things and get into teacher mode.
The morning rattled by and I barely had time to eat my lunch in the staffroom.
“Oh my God,” moaned Mirelle. “I’m never going to make it to the end of the week. Why is teaching so hard on my feet?”
“Someone’s gotten soft over the summer,” I laughed.
Mirelle smiled. “And someone else is in a good mood. Anything to do with that fine piece of man-flesh you left with last night?”
I grinned, and her smile grew even brighter.
“Tell me everything! And don’t leave out any details!”
“We talked . . . really talked. We’re in a good place, I think. We’ve still got a lot of stuff to figure out, but he’s going to stay for a while. He says he wants to understand what my life is like here.”
“Wow! That’s awesome. I mean, the way you talked about him when you were traveling over the summer, he sounded kind of like a gung-ho adrenalin junkie, totally alpha. But wanting to know about you—really know you—that’s just so sweet. Gotta say, chica, this guy is impressing the shit out of me!”
“I don’t want to jinx it.” I took a deep breath. “He’s coming to the staff dinner. I made him promise to be nice to Gregg.”
“Oh, that will be worth seeing!” Mirelle laughed. “I have no idea how you put up with Gregg for four long years. I really like your upgrade.”
“Me, too,” I smiled, but then the reality hit me again. “It doesn’t change the fact that he’s based on the other side of the country.”
“Hey!” snapped Mirelle. “Give the guy a chance. Give yourself a chance. Anyway, how long is he staying for?”
“We haven’t discussed it exactly, but he wants me to go to LA with him for Thanksgiving. He’s got a big event there, so he has to be back for that. Otherwise, well, I guess we’ve got six weeks to work things through.”
“There’s my girl!” she grinned. “Think positive!”
When I walked out to my car and saw Kes, my face split with a smile. He was leaning against the trunk, staring into the street. He’d shaved, his cheeks smooth and stubble free. He usually looked younger when he was clean shaven, but today his eyes were hooded, brooding.
“Hi,” I said warily.
He looked over at me and stood up straight, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. He still wasn’t smiling. In fact he looked pissed.
“Are you okay?” I asked tentatively.
“I’m fine.”
I wondered what had happened to upset him.
“Didn’t you ride here on your bike?” I asked mildly.
“Can you see a motorcycle?” he snapped, as he slid into the passenger seat.
I flinched, and an expression of remorse passed across his face, but he didn’t apologize for his curt reply. Of course he didn’t.
I drove to one of my favorite places for relaxing after work; a bakery with a large patio area overlooking the river.
Kes still hadn’t spoken to me by the time we’d bought our coffees, and I’d managed to ignore the delicious looking chocolate cake. I chose a table outside under a sun umbrella and sipped my latte.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked quietly.
He met my eyes for just a second before looking away again. But in that moment, I saw something that I never expected to see: shame.
“Kes?”
He sighed and stared at his hands.
“I went to your gym after you left this morning,” he said. “I figured I’d get a trial membership. Maybe take a look at that Zorba class you were talking about . . .”
His jaw tensed as if he was biting back words.
“Okay,” I prompted gently. “And what happened?”
“The woman at the desk handed me a fucking four-page application form. Four fucking pages! I just . . . Fuck!”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I should have known. Damn it all—I did know! I’d had to fill out the same questionnaire when I joined. There was a whole medical history checklist, as well as a long health and safety section.
I felt sick, knowing that I’d encouraged Kes to go there without any consideration for the fact that he couldn’t read.
“I’m so sorry, Kes,” I said, feeling my eyes beginning to tear up. “I completely forgot that they had application forms.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, still not looking at me.
“It’s not your fault, Aimee. It was just fucking humiliating. I guess I’ve gotten so used to Zach and the guys covering for me with this sort of shit. First fucking day in your world and I can’t handle it.” And then he muttered under his breath, “Fucking loser.”
I hated seeing him like this. And it had all been preventable. I was so angry with myself.
“Kes, I don’t want you to talk about yourself like that ever. These stupid forms are horrendous for everyone. Look, we’ll just go through it together.”
His brooding expression didn’t change. Finally he looked at me.
“Is that how we’re going to do this, Aimee? I have a problem and you have to babysit me through it?” He gritted his teeth. “You tried the carnival and you were great, fucking awesome. I thought I should at least know what your life is like here—why you chose to come back and not . . .”
His words ground to a halt, but still stung as they left his lips.
I grabbed his hand.
“Kes, do you remember my first morning at the carnival? That horrible fight I had with Zef?”
He frowned. “Yeah?”
“And do you remember when I spent $23 trying to ‘drown the clown’ and I had to pretend that I’d missed on purpose?”
This time he gave a small smile. “Yeah. Took you a month to admit it.”
“And what about the time when I fell on my butt in the horse shit in front of everyone and you laughed your ass off?”
“That was epic!” Kes closed his eyes and frowned as his smile fell away. “I get what you’re saying, but this is different.”
“No, it’s not. It’s day one. Just . . . just give it a chance. We’ll do that stupid form together. Don’t give up, please.” Don’t give up on us.
His eyes flashed open. “I’m not giving up.”
He passed me the form and we filled it out while we drank our coffees. Kes was in a much calmer frame of mind after, but he still seemed pensive.
He stared out at the ri
ver, his eyes following the slow eddies as the water flowed downstream, the riverbank framed by tall trees, the leaves a deep green, only a hint of Fall in their color.
We finished our coffees in silence and I took his hand as we walked toward my car, earning me a small smile.
As soon as we reached the parking lot, I shoved Kes up against my old Honda. His back thudded on the door, forcing a soft puff of air from his lungs. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as I kissed the heck out of him.
His look of surprise soon turned heated and he returned the kiss, hard. I could feel him growing against my hip, and I was only vaguely aware that we were still in a public place until I heard someone call my name.
“Hi, Miss Andersen!”
“Oh, no!” I groaned into his neck. “Please tell me that’s not one of my students!”
“Four foot nothing, pink t-shirt, braids, and a big smile.”
“Is she wearing glasses?”
Kes grinned. “Yep.”
“Clare Norton,” I sighed. “Is she with her mom?”
“Yep,” Kes said again, his grin growing wider.
I turned around and saw Clare waving at me. Her mom looked less impressed. Maybe teachers weren’t supposed to make out with their hot boyfriends in public.
I returned Clare’s wave a little limply.
“You’re such a bad influence,” Kes whispered against my hair, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me back against his chest.
I tried to think of something clever to say.
“Shut up,” I said.
Kes laughed. “It could have been worse.”
“How?” I sniffed.
“You’ve made me hard, Miss Andersen,” and he shifted his hips against my ass to prove his point. “Lucky the kid’s mom didn’t see that.”
“She’d have been jealous,” I breathed out, my cheeks turning pinker.
Kes laughed again, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
“So, can I take my girl out for dinner now, or do you want me to meet some more of your kids’ parents—because I’m totally up for that.”
I muttered under my breath, and Kes raised an eyebrow.
“Something you want to share with the class, Miss Andersen?”
“Get in the damn car!”
“Tsk tsk, bad language as well as bad behavior. Where on earth will it end?” Then he slid into the passenger seat and pulled his door shut while I adjusted my seatbelt. “And just in case you were wondering, Miss Andersen, I’m kinda hoping it will end with me fucking you senseless in your bed.”
“I’m not in the mood,” I said, the quaver in my voice giving lie to my words.
Kes just smiled. “You will be,” he said confidently.
He was right. Damn him.
“So, where do you want to eat? I saw a couple of nice places on Main Street . . .”
“No!” I interrupted. “I want to eat out of town. Waaay out of town!”
Kes grinned and winked at me.
We ended up at a Chinese restaurant a few miles away in Hooksett. But while we waited for the food, Kes was eyeing me across the table.
“So, tell me what the guys have been up to,” I said, looking for something safer than being hypnotized by Kes’s eyes. “I think you said Zef is in Savannah?”
Kes smiled and leaned back, his arm curling around the top of the booth, showcasing his bicep and strong forearm.
“His brother is in school there—some big shot varsity football player. Has the potential to go pro. Zef says there are even scouts looking at him on a weekly basis.”
I blinked in surprise. With Zef’s prison record, I’d sort of assumed he came from a bad family. Stupid assumptions.
“Have you met his brother?”
“Yeah, Daniel’s a couple of years younger than me. He’s a cool guy—got a hot girlfriend, too.”
A spark of jealousy shot through me. I tried not to show it, but Kes’s look was amused. He’d always known me better than anyone, which meant he also knew how to wind me up faster than a clockwork toy.
“And what about Tucker? Where’s he from? I thought I could hear a bit of a southern accent when we spoke.”
Kes shrugged. “He doesn’t talk about it much, but I think he’s from Kentucky or Tennessee—somewhere like that. He left when he was 18 and has been traveling ever since. I don’t think he’s close to his family.”
“Where is he now?”
Kes laughed. “Met some hippy chic in San Francisco when we were doing the last show. He hooked up with her. Guess I’ll see him at Thanksgiving.”
The food arrived and I ate with enthusiasm. Kes watched me, clearly entertained.
“Hungry, Aimee?”
“Starving,” I said, glancing up at his dark eyes and slowly sucking the sauce off my chopsticks.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and I grinned at him.
“Damn, you’re a tease,” he said, his voice husky.
I leaned across the table. “It’s only teasing if you don’t get lucky later.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Funny you should say that, because I’m feeling very lucky.”
“Me, too,” I said honestly. “Thank you for coming here, Kes. It means a lot to me . . . more than I can say.”
He nodded seriously. “I couldn’t stay away.”
We finished the meal and drove home, the air rich with promise and possibility.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, Kes yanked me toward him, hoisted me over his shoulder and walked purposefully toward my apartment.
“Kes!” I shrieked. “Put me down!”
“Miss Andersen,” he purred, his voice low and seductive. “I need to pay you back for that stunt in the parking lot, getting me hard in public. Do you think that’s a nice thing to do?”
“I’m not nice,” I said boldly. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, I like the view.” And I grabbed his butt with both hands, squeezing hard.
He retaliated by biting my ass which made me squeal.
And then I saw a pair of furry slippers on the stairs behind me. I knew those slippers—they were usually attached to the feet of my elderly neighbor. I craned my head up to look.
“Uh, hi Mrs. Canova, how are you?”
“Hello, Aimee. I’m very well, dear. Although you’re looking a little flushed. I do hope you’re feeling well. Now, who’s this? I don’t think I’ve met this young man.”
Who is currently acting like a freaking caveman!
All the blood was rushing to my head which was making it hard to think straight.
“Um, he’s, um . . .”
“Kestrel Hawkins,” Kes said smoothly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Likewise,” she said, and I could hear the merriment in her voice. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I can see that you’re . . . busy.”
As soon as Mrs. Canova vanished back into her apartment, I slapped Kes’s ass hard. Of course, he smacked me right back.
“I can stand out here all day, Aimee,” he laughed. “Maybe we can entertain some more of your neighbors.”
“Don’t you dare! Get me inside! Right now!”
“I could get inside you right now.”
“Kes! Open the damn door!”
“You’ve got the keys,” he pointed out mildly.
“Oh.”
I handed him my purse and he pulled out the keys, opening the door, but he still didn’t put me down.
Instead, he carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed no more than a bag of laundry.
When I pushed my hair out of my eyes so I could see, Kes was standing with his hands on his hips, grinning at me.
“You . . . !” I huffed.
“Me, what?”
“I . . . you . . . just . . . Kes!”
He laughed and shook his head.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”
Then his smile faded and he sat on the edge of the bed looking away from me.
br /> “Aimee, are we really going to do this? Because I can’t lose you again. But I don’t think I can stay either if you’re just going to tell me to get the hell out after Thanksgiving. I know it’s not going to be easy, but . . . can we just agree to try? I’ve got enough money to fly in whenever I can, or I’ll fly you out to wherever I’m performing. I just need to know that we’re in this together.”
He looked across at me, his gaze intense but reserved, as if waiting for judgment.
I’d rejected the idea of a long-distance relationship before, but in the month we’d been apart, my priorities had rearranged themselves. My career was important to me, but so was Kes. I didn’t know how things would work out, but he was asking me to try. I owed myself that chance of real happiness.
“Yes, Kestrel Donohue Hawkins. I want to try.” I want to make this work. Somehow.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Thank fuck for that!” He shook his head, smiling at me. “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack, Aimee. Come here.”
I crawled into his lap, winding my arms tightly around his neck.
“Are you really going to stay here with me until Thanksgiving?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it.
“Trying to get rid of me already?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.
“Never!”
He smiled at my loud reply. “I’m all yours.”
“I like the sound of that,” I sighed.
“You can have me now, if you want.”
“I like the sound of that, too.”
I met his eyes, seeing a mixture of love, lust, relief and hope. I was sure I could see hope.
His lips were soft as he kissed me, his arms looped loosely around my waist. I knew that Kes had made an effort to really talk to me the past two days, to explain, to tell me what he was thinking and feeling. Words weren’t his favorite way of communicating—his body was always so much more eloquent. Tonight it was saying that it was up to me—he’d offered himself, but he wouldn’t push. He needed me to show him that I wanted him as much as he wanted me.
I ran my hands down his spine, feeling a shiver of awareness and need ripple under his skin.
“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Kes.”
For once, he didn’t try and laugh it off or tell me that I couldn’t call a guy beautiful. He looked up, his expression serious and trusting.