Page 49 of Under the Texas Sky
Mymom knocks on the door a little while later, and I sit up so quickly in the bed, I make myself nauseous. I chance a look at Kian, and his eyes are wide.Oh no.
“Trent, get up. I’m hungry,” my mom calls through the door.
“Be out in a minute, Mom.” I stand up, raking my fingers through my hair and trying to untangle the mess that Kian’s hands made. “Come on,” I urgently whisper to him. and he snaps out of his frozen state.
He snaps out of his frozen state and pulls his hair back into a ponytail, the curls barely being tamed by the hair tie.
“Get your bag, I’ll take you home after dinner.”
He shakes his head quickly.
I know he’s worried, but he’s my boyfriend now. I’ll protect him at all costs. So I reach out and thread my fingers through his hand. I tip his head up with my other hand, leaving my fingertips pressed underneath his chin. “Do you trust me?”
His eyes answer before his mouth does. “Of course I do.”
“Then let me take care of this, okay? I’ll take care of you.”
CHAPTER 43
KIAN
If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I know how to make an entrance. Is that always a good thing? Most definitely not. Especially not when I watched as the love of my life approached the coffee shop I’m sitting in. He opened the door and a part of my soul felt settled just from being in his presence. Seriously, what kind of magic powers does he have?
I watched him approach the counter, boyfriend not in tow, and saw it as my chance. I don’t plan to play fair either. Trent is mine. And everyone should just accept that now, including Trent.
He turns around, and his brown eyes look like cinnamon under the bright lighting. “Ki,” he breathes out, and every fragment of my heart is glued back together with that one syllable.
“Hi,” I say, faking a confident smile, trying to find the courage I had before. He looks excited to see me.
He smiles widely, showing off the slight gap in between his top two teeth, and I’m hit with a sense of Déjàvu. How many times has he smiled at me like this? It doesn’t matter, because every time he does, the most joyous feeling overcomes me and I feel like I can fly. He does that for me.
The barista clears her throat, and Trent’s cheeks tint to a pretty shade of pink. He hands her a few bills, telling her to keep the change. When he turns back to me, our eyes connect, and I can’t look away. We stand there, for seconds, minutes, hours. I’m notsure. A single moment with him feels like forever, but also never long enough.
“Kian,” a different barista calls, breaking the moment between us.
Trent grabs his coffee, and I go back to the table where I left my laptop sitting, giving him the opportunity to choose. He looks around the cafe and his eyes catch on me. He walks toward the table, each step slow and measured. The slow music coming through the speakers makes it feel like a scene in a movie where the two main characters reunite and announce their love for everyone to hear.
“Hi,” he says, scooting the chair back and sitting down. Watching me over the top of my laptop.
“Hi,” I respond, keeping my eyes glued to the top of my screen, just enough to where I can watch him, too.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, taking a sip of his too hot coffee. He flinches a little and sets the cup back down.
"Just some work," I answer nonchalantly. I know he means what am I doing back in Madison, but I can't lay all my cards on the table right now.
Trent looks satisfied enough with my answer, fiddling with the protective sleeve on his cup. “What are you working on?”
I flip the screen around so he can see. It’s not the best, but it’s a work in progress, and a lot better than when I originally started. I know what he’s looking at, but the amazement in his eyes causes me to pause.
“You did this Kian ? This is–” He pauses, furrowing his eyebrows, thinking way too hard. “Amazing. The only word I can think of is amazing.”
My cheeks heat up. I want to snatch my laptop back and put it in the bag and never let anyone see it. This is just for me.
“How long have you been doing photography?”
I lift my shoulder up, hoping to come across blasé. The truth is, when Mitch mentioned it that day on the couch, it tickled the back of my brain for a while. I took random pictures of street signs with the sun setting in the background. Different angles of the moon high in the sky, the stars twinkling around it like its own concert. They were shitty, and I deleted more than I kept.
But when I left for Arizona, I documented the whole truck ride with pictures. Tim, the nice truck driver who picked me up, always stopped at random spots and let me out to take pictures. He was so much nicer to me than I deserved. And he didn’t murder me and scatter my limbs everywhere, so that’s also a plus.
