Page 54 of Beautiful Distraction

And yet, it seems to be the case.

It’s as if Kellan’s a completely different kind of personthan the one I imagined him to be. The flirtatious side of him is just thebeginning. I feel like I’ll have to peel back layers over layers, remove pieceby piece of him, to get to know him.

Maybe he isn’t as bad as I thought.

Maybe underneath the player he’s portraying, he’s a realperson with emotions, someone who is capable of forming meaningful attachments.

“I’m glad you adopted him,” I say softly. “And I’m so sorryabout your loss.”

He nods, and then the awful silence resumes.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You’re cold,” Kellan says, misinterpreting the brief tremorrocking my body. Or maybe he’s just as eager to drop the subject.

I nod, suddenly seeing my chance to escape this situation.

Our conversation.

Him.

“I’ll take you to the living room,” he says.

“No, Kellan.”

Ignoring my half-hearted protest, he lifts me off the chairand carries me inside, only stopping when we reach the couch. Slowly, he setsme down, arranges a few cushions behind my back, and then wraps a blanketaround me—the motion is so intimate, it makes me uncomfortable.

I don’t like a guy taking care of me because I fear that onemoment in the future when I involuntarily let my guard down, and his guard isstill up. Like any other human being, rejection doesn’t agree with me.

Kellan’s impossibly good looks aren’t the actual danger tomy inner equilibrium. It’s all the small things he seems to do and not make abig deal out of. Like riding home with me and making sure I’m not freezing myass off.

Been there. Done that. Never again.

Just like him, I have my own emotional baggage. Just likehim, I’m not willing to try again.

“I’ll bring you something to drink,” Kellan says and headsout of the living room, finally leaving me enough space to breathe.

In his absence, I relax against the cushions. The sun isstreaming in through the open curtains, bathing the mahogany wood in an orangeglow.

There’s something strange about this room. It’s too manly,too rough. But there’s also a tenderness about it. It’s the décor, I decide.The odd female touch in the form of a delicate picture frame and an empty glassvase.

He used to live with someone. This someone is gone now.

My gaze is involuntarily drawn to the picture frame Mandyinspected last night, and the blond woman in it.

He said she was his sister. Was he telling the truth? I’mthinking of his best friend, a soldier. What were the odds that he was in arelationship with her before her death?

He didn’t say it, but I could feel the sadness radiatingfrom him, the way was hard for him to talk. As soon as I said sorry, he closedup.

His sudden change of topic only confirmed it.

“Sorry it took so long.” Kellan places a glass on the couchtable.

I didn’t hear him coming in, and so he catches me off guard.My thoughts can’t possibly be written across my forehead, and yet I feel likehe can look right through me and see that I’m trying to figure him out.

“Thanks.” I grab the warm glass, eyeing the yellow liquid.

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