Page 46 of Kai
Because I didn’t want him to get hurt, or worse, get killed.
I could sense Kai moving away from me. He was about to leave me behind, trapped in a boat, surrounded by water, cut off from land, from escape, and perhaps most importantly, from him. An invisible cord stretched and strained between us. Anytime now, it was going to snap.
The words blurted out of my mouth. “Can I come with you?”
He took a knee, worked his nimble fingers to attach a rope and a buoy to his ruck, then looked up. A slight frown marred his striking features. “You don’t like the water, remember?”
My face fell, and the breath rushed out of my lungs. He was right.
He drew his eyebrows together. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I lied.
I gritted my teeth, frustrated with myself. I couldn’t swim. I’d only be a burden to him. “Useless” and “helpless” were words I abhorred. “Confused” was also on that list. Another anxiety-inducing thought hit me out of left field. It wasn’t a rationalthought, but rather a punch of runaway emotion. What if he’d found me so intractable, so damaged, hostile, and unpleasant that he was leaving me for good? What if he had already given up on me?
“Tell me the truth.” I clenched my hands at my sides and tightened them until my knuckles hurt. “Are you planning on coming back?”
“Of course I’m coming back.” He straightened to his full height. The affronted look he fixed on me could’ve started multiple fires, including the one currently flaring between my legs. “My job is to protect you. There isn’t a scenario where I don’t come back for you.”
“Thereisa scenario.” I tried to suppress the fear pounding in my chest. “A scenario where you die.”
“I’m not dying today, and neither are you.” He reached out, cupped my cheek, and brushed the edge of my face with the pad of his thumb. “Cece.” Coming from his lips, my nickname sounded gentle and appealing. “You’ve been through a lot, but don’t forget. I’m here. I’ll protect you with my life if necessary.”
Oh, God.
“I don’t want your life.” I shocked myself when I tasted tears at the back of my throat. What I really wanted were his kisses and his touch, long meals featuring fresh ingredients and interesting conversation, and relief from the lust torturing me at every level, even though I couldn’t, shouldn’t, and didn’t deserve any of that.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured me. “All I ask is that you stay on this vessel while I’m away.”
“It’s not like I’m going to go swimming or something.” Bitterness sharpened my voice as I stepped away from his bone-melting touch and swept a hand toward the water surrounding us on all sides.
The corners of his eyes crinkled, but if he had somethingto say, he chose not to share it.
“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” I asked.
For three years, I’d had nothing to lose other than my life. But now, the stakes were so much higher.
“Hear me out,” he said. “Serenityis under a visual and thermal cloak. If all goes well, even if the mercs come this way, they can’t see you. So, stay put until I get back.” His grin turned wicked. “Maybe when I return, we can revisit our conversation. Perhaps you’ll kiss me again, to test your sisters’ hypothesis, or even out of extreme boredom. Hey, a guy can hope, right?”
Butterflies took flight in my stomach. No, the flutters weren’t butterflies anymore. They were flocks of hummingbirds flapping their wings at top speed. I bit down on the twitch of my lips. Did he ever give up? The contrast between his optimism and my bleakness swelled the tears in my eyes.
“I mean it, Kai.” I held back the waterworks. “What am I to do with myself?”
“You’re so tired, Cece, so wound up.” The compassion in his voice almost broke me. “Maybe you could do absolutely nothing for a change.”
“I don’tdonothing,” I spat, holding it together, but only barely.
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “You do now.”
He surprised me by planting a chaste kiss on my forehead before he turned away. I braced on a chair, pretending the sweet kiss hadn’t tilted the axis of the earth and melted my kneecaps. I felt as gooey and hot as a grilled cheese sandwich. This was becoming a habit.
He grabbed his ruck and the buoy from the deck, descended the steps, and tossed his gear overboard. The little buoy popped up and floated atop the cove’s tranquil waters with the ruck in tow. Kai knelt on the bottom step and tied the lead line to the ladder. He’d brought so much color into my drearyworld. He wasn’t even gone yet, and I already missed him.
For a moment, he crouched there, as if contemplating the water, with his broad back to me. Then he rose, blew out an exhale, and faced me. “You can come with me if you’d like.”
I widened my eyes in surprise. “I can?”
“As long as you’re willing to ride the surfboard and take on a hard, fast, and steep hike.”
