There’s something strange about this room. It’s too manly, too rough. But there’s also a tenderness about it. It’s the décor, I decide. The odd female touch in the form of a delicate picture frame and an empty glass vase.
He used to live with someone. This someone is gone now.
My gaze is involuntarily drawn to the picture frame Mandy inspected last night, and the blond woman in it.
He said she was his sister. Was he telling the truth? I’m thinking of his best friend, a soldier. What were the odds that he was in a relationship with her before her death?
He didn’t say it, but I could feel the sadness radiating from him, the way was hard for him to talk. As soon as I said sorry, he closed up.
His sudden change of topic only confirmed it.
“Sorry it took so long.” Kellan places a glass on the couch table.
I didn’t hear him coming in, and so he catches me off guard. My thoughts can’t possibly be written across my forehead, and yet I feel like he can look right through me and see that I’m trying to figure him out.
“Thanks.” I grab the warm glass, eyeing the yellow liquid.
“It’s Riesling Hot Toddy,” he answers my unspoken question. “Warm white wine with honey, lemon, and cardamom. It’ll warm you.” He points to my ankle. “Is it still hurting?”
I shake my head and find that at some point the throbbing must have stopped. “No.”
“Good. You should be able to walk again in a few hours.”
“I hope so. I mean, I don’t want to impose. We’ve already overstayed our welcome.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kellan says and sits down next to me. “Like I said, I enjoy your company. It’s a nice change.”
I bury my face in my drink, forcing myself to take slow, measured sips. It tastes delicious, sweet, and refreshing.
“Do you live here alone?” I avoid his gaze as I ask the question, afraid to give the impression that I care.
“I do.” A slight pause. “Do you live alone back in NYC?”
Just like before, he’s avoiding talking about himself. Either he’s the monosyllabic type, or he doesn’t want me to know too much about him. Either way, I find his evasive nature rude.
“I don’t.” I stare at him, unwilling to say more. If he wants to remain shrouded in mystery, then so do I.
The corners of his lips twitch. “I know. Mandy said you’ve been living together since your first day of college.”
I grimace.
What else escaped her big mouth?
“She also said that you’re starting a new position next week and that you have no time for relationships,” Kellan continues, seemingly enjoying his advantage over me.
“I never said I didn’t have time for relationships. I just don’t want one.”
He nods, like he knows exactly how I feel. “Relationship gone bad in the past?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally, I shake my head. “Nope. Not really.”
It’s a lie.
Someone hurt me—bad—but I can’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand, not when I’m sure he’s probably broken thousands of hearts.
His brows shoot up in obvious interest. “Not eager to share?”
I shake my head again.
There’s no way in hell I’ll disclose my romantic past to someone like him. If I want to unburden myself, then I’ll listen to Taylor Swift songs to feel better about all the things that have gone wrong in my life.
“I’m a good listener.” Kellan leans forward, elbows propped on his knees, as though his physical proximity could prove his point.
I frown at his sudden interest. “Why do you even want to know?”
“Because I like to know about my competition.”
A simple statement. Just like that, he seems to think about competition.
I laugh. “I doubt Kellan Boyd knows what competition is.”
“You’re right. I don’t usually have competition.” He hesitates, which gives me the opportunity to regard him intently, trying hard to read the sudden shadow crossing his features. His green gaze seems a shade darker. Troubled. And determined.
I clear my throat and look away when his fingers clasp my chin, forcing my eyes back to him. “I’m not afraid of competition, Ava.”
“I never believed you were.”
“Good. I won’t make a secret out of the fact that I always get the woman I want. You won’t be the exception, Ava.”
His monumental ego is back.
I open my mouth, then close it at the way his mouth seems to draw closer to me.
My breath is caged in my chest, waiting, expecting, fearing that one moment when his lips will crash down on mine.