Page 94 of Counting On You

Night has fallen when I finally return to the main building. I enter through the old entrance next to the dining area, avoiding the first floor lobby. The antique, mahogany, grandfather clock announces that it’s midnight. Everyone should be either asleep or in the lounge room.

Kade said something about working on his memoir at night, meaning he might still be up.

Changing plans, I head for the lobby, passing the large living room quickly, and reach the entertainment room.

I find him sitting in front of a computer. His back is turned to me, as he’s typing furiously on the keyboard. To his right, three guys are playing cards, their conversation too low to understand. As I slip through the open door, they lift their gaze, eyeing me for a fraction of a second before resuming their game.

Kade isn’t alone.

My stomach drops a little.

I spin around, ready to leave, and have almost reached the door, when his voice startles me. “Where are you going?”

My whole body freezes into place.

“Back to the apartment.” I turn to face him reluctantly and find Kade frowning. He’s wearing glasses, looking kind of sexy in a nerdy way. It suits him.

“Jesus, Vicky. You look like—”

“Shit?” I shrug, fighting the urge to scowl at him. “Yeah, I know. Moisture doesn’t do my hair any favors.”

I hate my curls. Add a bit of heat or rain, and my hair turns into a curly mess. I rake my fingers through my hair and pull slightly in the hope that it might magically straighten into the smooth, glossy look everyone else seems able to achieve these days.

I don’t need a mirror to know that it’s not working.

Kade watches me in silence, his face a blank mask that keeps his emotions unreadable. Finally, he points at the seat next to him, pulling the chair out with his foot.

I take him up on his silent invitation and sit down next to him, avoiding touching him in the process.

“Actually, I was going to say that you look exhausted,” he says. His expression darkens a little, as though his words don’t please him, as he continues, “Can’t sleep?”

“No, I was actually looking for you.” As I speak out the words I realize I can’t take them back. He’ll want to know why, and I have no answers to his questions.

Why do I always have to blurt out the truth?

“For me?” He cocks his head to the side. “Seems like you’ve found me. Why were you about to head back to your room, then?”

I avert my vision, hoping that he won’t see through my lie. “You looked busy. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never bothering me. I needed the break anyway.” He smiles, offering me his half-full mug. “Coffee? It’s cold and stale but drinkable.”

My pulse speeds up.

In the past few days, he’s offered me a lot of things: his friendship, his assistance, the possibility of keeping my bed warm and my attention far away from Bruce. But offering me a sip of his coffee is a new thing. It’s intimate and sexy, in a strange way.

I peer down at the white porcelain, imagining his lips on it.

The very lips I want to feel on my skin.

I should be staying away from him, from anything that makes me crave him more, and yet I can’t.

“Thanks.” My fingers encircle the mug. Feeling his glance on me, I lift it to my lips and take a sip.

Our gaze remains entwined for what feels like forever. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes speak to me, asking, wondering, worrying.

“Where have you been, Vicky?” Kade asks slowly. “After your sister left, I went looking for you. I couldn’t find you.”

“I needed some fresh air to clear my head.” I force a smile to my lips, thinking of ways to change the topic without being too obvious about it. “How’s the sex book coming along?”

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