Page 64 of The Worst Kind of Promise
There’s a scream—not high-pitched enough to be feminine but shrill enough to be classified as a scream. My eyes immediately skip to Kit’s figure standing by the doorway, and I’m hit with that burning odor again, strong enough to probably sear some of my nose hairs.
“What are you doing?” I screech, using the back of my hand to mop up some of the sweat on my forehead.
“Why did you wake up like you were having a demon exorcised out of your body?”
I glower. “Did you not smell whatever’s burning?”
Kit’s cheeks turn pink, offsetting the sable color of his hair, which is somehow perfectly unkempt without looking uncombed.
Then I notice the tray that’s at the edge of the bed, complete with two dishes full of eggs, fruit, hash browns, a pile of blackened discs, a glass of pulpy orange juice, and a single flower vase. My heart and pulse chug in time with one another, and I find myself sinking in abounding adoration for the man in front of me.
“You cooked this for me?” I ask incredulously, moving my back higher up against the headboard.
“I tried,” he chuckles, placing the overflowing tray in my lap. “The black things are supposed to be pancakes.”
My eyes wilt, and there’re probably some tears in there somewhere. “Kit, you didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to. I’m just sorry that the pancakes are as hard as pucks.”
“Nobody’s ever done something this nice for me.”
Kit’s expression pains for a moment, like he’s fully taking in the gravity of my admission, but it vanishes as quickly as it came, giving leeway to a puckish smile. “Get used to it. We have a full day ahead of us.”
I start to nibble on some of the cubes of cantaloupe. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m taking you on a date,” he says, grabbing one of the strawberries and popping it into his mouth.
“I thought you had practice today.”
“Woke up early and went down to the rink by myself. I’m dedicating the rest of the day to you, Princess. No phones, no distractions, no responsibilities.”
I swallow, and that damn piece of fruit sticks in my throat on the way down. “What if someone sees us? What if—”
Kit immediately grabs my hand, and he wreathes his fingers around mine, squeezing slightly. “I don’t care, okay? Nobody’s going to see us. I mean, they will, but they’re going to mind their own business. Speculation isn’t worth anything these days. The guys know that. Your brother knows that.”
I exhale abrasively. “I just…I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“Hey,” Kit murmurs, using his other hand to caress the side of my face. “You know I’d take a lifetime of trouble in return for a day with you, right?”
“I know.” I do. I guess I’m still coming to terms with everything that’s happened these past few days.
It’s unreal being with someone like Kit—someone I’ve had a crush on for so long and believed that it was unrequited. And we’re not even…togethertogether. Not to mention that even though we’re only halfway through July, school starts at the end of August, which means I’ll be on the other side of the country by then. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, and yet, I don’t really have it. It feels like I’m living a lie. A heavily layered lie.
“I don’t want you worrying about anything today, okay? We can do whatever you want. And if the paps happen to be a pain in the ass, I’ll kindly tell them to fuck off.”
“Whatever I want?” I ask, playfully batting my eyelashes.
He stares at my lips unabashedly, those dark, depthless eyes of his scouring me like I’m his prey. “Possibly.”
I stab a chunk of cheesy eggs with my fork, shoving it to the side of my cheek as I chew. “So no naked skydiving?”
Kit lets out a low whistle as he pretends to contemplate me. “Hey, hey. Let’s not be rash now.”
I move the tray off my legs. “You’d seriously go skydiving?”
“If we were naked and stuck together? Obviously.”
“So what I’m hearing is that you’ll do anything if it involves getting naked?”
