Page 71 of Protect Me
I would never trust this guy.
“Whatever it is.” I pulled gently on one of the oars. “I’m always here.”
Kate stared out at the forest and didn’t say another word.
The flickering screen of a monster movie flashed through the darkness of my house later that night. An open window spilled cooling summer air into the room, washing away the sterile smell of the air conditioner. The salty-sweet tang of fresh popcorn drifted by on a breeze.
Light filtered through from the kitchen, which I’d left on to keep the house from getting too dark. Kate lounged at my side, close but not touching. The rest of the day had been filled with contemplative silence. We ate dinner together on the back porch, underneath the umbrella, but said not much at all.
The quiet held no burden.
Space to think through what she said only led to the same conclusions as before: I’d protect her. A hardening of my resolve naturally followed. I’d be there for her in ways no one else ever had.
If she let me.
A careful distance lived in her eyes now. She didn’t avoid me, but she didn’t move close. The smell of her shampoo drifted to me every now and then. I tried to ignore it, relieved that she was safe.
Here.
The movie faded by. I comprehended none of it. My thoughts churned in the background, spinning in ways I didn’t try to track. The sound of a sigh brought me out of them. I glanced over to find her leaning against the back of the couch, eyes closed. She’d pulled a blanket over her shoulder, but it fell off. Her sooty eyelashes fluttered against her cheek, rosy from the sunshine.
With an adorable little yawn, she scooted closer, rested her head on my shoulder, and dropped into sleep.
I froze, then leaned in.
“Always, Kate,” I whispered. “Always.”
ChapterSeventeen
KATELYN
The smell of lemongrass settled me further into my body.
I drew in a deep breath of hot humid air, let it back out, and tried to enjoy the elongation of my thigh. Heat swelled in and out of my lungs, loosening tension all the way at my core.
“Hold for two more breaths.”
A dainty yoga instructor sauntered past, bare feet quiet on the wooden floor that creaked as he walked by. To my right, I was vaguely aware of Vikram in full dolphin pose, his right arm trembling as it held the weight of his body. I mentally set him aside for the tenth time.
Days had passed since our soul-stirring canoe trip. The water, the quiet, the stillness had given me courage I may not have thought possible before. Having the secret out made it easier to exist, a physical weight unburdened. In a small way, we’d shoved the kiss out of the way again. Thankfully, we didn’t speak about either the kiss or Timothy.
Rule number five,never speak about what happened,remained on alert. I didn’t want to discuss either of them with Vikram, and he didn’t ask any questions.
Vikram’s calm acceptance of my sordid experiences, the fact that he’d already known, made it easier to move on. He’d known and he hadn’t run. Hadn’t avoided me. Hadn’t treated me any differently than before.
Now, he walked a little closer, kept a hand on the small of my back in public, and tracked our surroundings more deeply. His vague touches didn’t feel suffocating, but sent frissons of deep emotion all through my body.
This isn’t real,I reminded myself daily.
Vikram didn’t commit.
Sweat dripped down my arms as we moved into child’s pose. My muscles lolled gratefully. Each released breath, I pictured inky smoke escaping my body, never to return.
When the class ended, the teacher opened a side door. Air swept through the sultry room. Sweat saturated my shirt, which clung to my ribs when Vikram walked up, water bottle held out for me. I thanked him, popped the top, and had a long drink. The cool, refreshing liquid eased my parched throat.
“Like the class?” he asked.
“Very much. How did your knee do?”
