“Were you really proud of how I handled that Camden wanker?”
“Jesus!” I screech, dropping my phone before turning to face him. “You have to quit sneaking up on me. And eavesdropping? Not very gentlemanly. You’ll have to kiss at least fifty more hands now to re-convince me.”
Thankfully, my sass hides any disappointment I might have, and absolutely cannot entertain, in seeing he’s put his shirt back on.
“That really seems to bother you. Might you be jealous?” He raises a brow, waiting for my comeback.
I don’t know why he tries so hard to charm all those girls, since all he needs to do is flash them the smile he’s wearing now.
I pick up my phone—luckily for him, it’s not broken—and stand.
“Ha. Right. No, I’m just concerned for your health. Trust me, you don’t want to know where some of those tarts’ hands have been.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums low in his chest as he sits down on the steps, in my previous spot. “How’s your brother getting on?”
I shrug. “Fine. Said he likes it over there.”
He nods. “I’m sure. Father can be quite hospitable when it serves him.”
I sit back down beside him. “And your mom?” I ask, very quietly, ashamed of my nosiness but unable to contain it.
“My mum died when I was young, Echo. You can lift your head—I don’t mind you asking. And frankly, I already miss that beautiful face of yours.”
“Do you miss her?” My words are measured, broken up by my nerves.
He shakes his head. “I don’t remember her to miss her. But people tell me she was a wonderful woman, so I often imagine what having her around might have been like. Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense.” I let my hand brush over his lightly. “I’m sorry, Kingston.”
The strong, sturdy muscles flex in his arms as he braces his hands on the step and scoots his body closer to mine. He dips his head so our eyes are level. “What are you sorry for, Love?”
I can’t tear my gaze from the earnest depth in his own. “That you didn’t grow up with a mom, and that you can’t remember the time you did have her. My heart hurts for you.”
“You actually mean that,” he states, without a hint of doubt. I remain silent. “And you brushed right over my compliment. Did you even hear it, or were you truly distracted by my feelings?”
I open my mouth to answer, but he closes it for me with a fingertip under my chin. “No need. I already know the answer.”
“Kingston…” I breathe out. I’m unsure of what to say next, but thankfully Sammy saves me by choosing that moment to bound through the front door.
“Echo, Mom wants your help with dinner! And Kingston, Dad said you better have that truck done, or you can’t eat.”
Oh my God. Our solemn moment is completely shattered, and I’m now laughing so hard my sides cramp. The appalled look on Kingston’s face is priceless.
“Would he really withhold dinner?”
“Yes,” I wheeze through my laughter.
“Good thing for me, then, that Clay was set on proving his manhood and finished the unloading.”
“Prove it to who? No one was watching.”
“Oh, someone was watching.”
He stares at me intently, as if waiting for me to figure out his riddle. When I don’t, he stands and offers me his hand instead.
“Never mind that. Let’s go see to this nosh. I’m hungry.”
~~~~~
After the brief but meaningful moments we share on the porch, Kingston and I somehow fall into a companionable routine. My shower messages, which I now look forward to reading to start my day, are always there waiting.
I only have calculus on his campus three days a week; I get to skip out early the other two days, so I don’t see him at school Tuesday. On Wednesday afternoon, I’m happily relieved to have Savannah at my side when we enter the calculus classroom—and also grateful to see Kingston already seated across the room from where he knows I’ll sit.
He shoots me a small, secret grin that’s fleeting, but says it all. He’s giving me what I want by herding his “flock” away from me: anonymity. He even goes so far as to focus on the professor—something I’m surprised to see—but it works at keeping most of the girls quiet and feigning concentration on learning.
By the time we’re dismissed, I have a pile of notes in my hands and a smile on my face. With Kingston’s new “cooperation,” class went off without a hitch, and I appreciate his extra effort that made it possible.
It’s the reason I wait outside the door for him. I’m planning to extend the olive branch in return by offering him a ride home.