Page 79 of The Weight Of Falling
I lean down to pick up the leash, avoiding his eyes. “No.”
He straightens. “Kenzie.” Even the way he says my name is thrilling. He waits until I look up. “What are you still doing with him?”
“I...uh...I might have adopted him.”
“Might?”
I sigh. “I did.”
He gives a small head shake, but it seems almost affectionate. “Why am I not surprised? You’ve got a knack for complicating your life.”
It does look that way. And the biggest complication is standing in front of me, smelling like cedar and soap and temptation.
“I don’t get it,” I say, half to myself. “I’m really pretty simple and ordinary.”
Joel snorts. “No, you’re not. You’re definitely...complicated.”
“I am?” I latch onto the word and feel inordinately pleased at his description. Complicated sounds mysterious and interesting.I doubt anyone else would attach that label to me, but I like that he does.
Seeing my pleased expression, Joel frowns. “Not a good complicated.”
“Too late,” I tell him cheerfully. “I’ve already filed it under good complicated.”
He fights a smile and looks down at Turbo. “Have you ever had a dog?”
I nod. “We had dogs growing up, but my parents always adopted older dogs. They knew they’d be the last to get picked.” I blow a loose strand of hair out of my face. “I’ve never had a puppy.”
“A whole different ballgame.”
I rub a tired hand down my face. “Yes, it is.”
“Have you named him?”
“Turbo.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “It suits him.”
“He’s a bundle of energy in a small package.”
“From the looks of it, he wants to be in charge.”
I sigh. “He definitely acts like it.”
He goes silent for a beat too long. “Are you coping?” he asks quietly.
“He’s a handful, but I can handle him.” My eyes drop to the ground. It’s not a complete lie.
“Kenzie,” he says softly. Again, he waits patiently for me to look up. When I do, a hint of exasperation crosses his face. “Don’t pretend you’re coping if you’re not, okay?”
After a pause, I give a small nod. “Okay.”
“Lie to everyone else, but not to me,” he says in a low voice, his eyes burning into mine. “Never to me.”
For a second, everything stills. Every inch of my skin feels hot. I feel that familiar pull between us.
“That cuts both ways,” I say.
“I don’t lie to you.”
