Thoughtful(26)

Denny laughed and rubbed her arm. “I can veg.” He looked over at me. “What about you, Kellan. Want to veg with us for a while?”

“Sounds great,” I told him.

Kiera was nervous about starting her new job at Pete’s, so Denny and I spent the next hour or so prepping her. We ran through every drink we could think of. There was no way she was going to remember them all, but we had a good time with it. We even made up a few drinks, just to get her extra prepared.

When I left the house later in the evening, Kiera finally seemed comfortable about her new job, and Denny was the one starting to lose it. I considered canceling rehearsal to stay home and have a drink with him or something, but by the look Kiera was giving him, I was sure she had a better way to relax him. With a chuckle and a wave, I left her to it.

The next morning Denny looked pale, but calmer. I was drinking my coffee and reading the paper when Kiera walked into the kitchen. She took one look at my T-shirt and started laughing. I was wearing one of the many band shirts that Griffin had made. DOUCHEBAGS was proudly splashed across the front in large white letters.

I teasingly told her I could get her one, and with a good-natured grin, she gave me an enthusiastic nod. When Denny came down a little later, in a snazzy pressed shirt and pleated pants, he also commented on my shirt. I made a mental note to grab a couple from Griffin.

Kiera and I bolstered Denny’s spirits for his first day of work. She told him he was hot; I teasingly agreed. She gave him a goodbye kiss; I playfully gave him a peck on the cheek. He was laughing as he left, and I knew that even though he was still a little nervous, he’d kill it at work. Denny was a smart guy. Always had been.

After that, I was completely alone with Kiera for the first time since she’d arrived. It was strangely nice to have just the two of us in the house. She filled the home with a peaceful energy. Warm, sweet…innocent. Just being around her made me feel better.

I worked on lyrics at the table while she watched a little TV in the living room. I could see her watching me from the couch, and wondering if she’d be open to helping me, I asked her, “What do you think about these lines: Silent eyes shout in the dark, begging for an end. Cold words fall from closed mouths, cutting to the quick. We bleed out, two hearts pumping, but timeless, endless, the pain carries on.”

She blinked at me, wordless. For a moment, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have shared that verse with her. Maybe I should have picked a more benign one, something light and peppy. But this was what I was working on right now, and by asking for her opinion, I could share myself without really sharing myself. So long as she didn’t ask me to explain the lyrics, I was safe.

Swallowing, she inhaled a deep breath and said, “Well, I’m not that great at music, but maybe if you came up with something in the second line that rhymed with ‘end,’ it would flow better?” She shrugged, and her face skewed into an apologetic expression.

I smiled at her, letting her know I wasn’t in any way offended by her suggestion. Most people just said, “Sounds great,” and didn’t bother giving one. I appreciated her honest attempt to try to make the song better.

“Thanks, I think you’re right. I’ll work on that.” Her eyes lit up when she realized I was genuinely grateful for her assistance.

As I went back to work, a feeling started in my chest and crept over all of my muscles, until I was coated with the warm sensation. I wasn’t sure if it was contentment, comfortableness, happiness, or something more, but it was wonderful, and I soaked it up like a sponge.

Kiera disappeared a couple of hours before her shift to get ready. I wondered if she really needed that long. She didn’t seem the type to primp and preen for an ungodly amount of time. Her beauty was natural; she didn’t need to do anything to improve upon it. But when she came downstairs and asked me for a bus schedule, I understood why she was getting ready so early.

Shaking my head, I told her I would take her. She stared at me from the entryway, jacket in hand. “No, no. You don’t have to do that.”

I could tell she just didn’t want to trouble me. It was no trouble though, and besides, I practically lived at Pete’s. Driving over there was no more trouble than walking to the fridge. “No problem. I’ll grab a beer, chat with Sam. I’ll be your first customer.”

I gave her as charming a smile as I could, but she didn’t look heartened by my comment. If anything, she looked even more apprehensive. Walking into the living room, she told me, “Okay. Thanks.”

She sat beside me on the couch and stared at the TV while she played with the zipper on her jacket. She reminded me of Denny, a bundle of nerves while she waited for her new situation. I’d been mindlessly watching some old sitcoms. Not really caring what was on the TV, I handed Kiera the remote. “Here, I wasn’t really watching anything.”