Forgiving Lies (Forgiving Lies #1)(17)
I SPENT THE morning and early afternoon writing to my parents at Starbucks, and though it usually left me feeling closer to them, connected somehow, today just wasn’t cutting it. It could’ve had something to do with the fact that I was pulled over by an APD officer for going thirty-nine in a thirty-five, or that Starbucks got my order way wrong. Honestly, how is an iced vanilla latte confused for an iced coffee with caramel? Or it could’ve had something to do with the sporty silver Lexus convertible that had pulled up next to my car and had me in a near panic attack in the middle of the café since I had a big chair next to a window with a perfect view of the parking lot. Didn’t matter that it was a woman with dark hair driving it. I’d already started my minor freak-out. There was no stopping it. Any one of those things could have made it so I didn’t enjoy writing to them, but I was in a funk now, regardless.
I shut my eyes and listened to the remainder of “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain in my car before preparing to get out. My dad used to sing that to my mom when they thought I wasn’t looking. He’d pull her close in the kitchen and dance with her slowly as he softly sang each word in her ear. My dad was sweet like that, and I remember thinking I wanted a guy just like him. A rugged-looking softy who would take the time to dance with his wife for no reason at all. He looked at her like she was the world. And I’d vowed to never settle for less. But after Daniel and Blake, I was considering becoming a nun, or a crazy cat lady like our new neighbor Mrs. Adams. Either sounded pretty perfect to me.
As soon as Edwin’s voice and the saxophone drifted off, I turned my car off, and opened my door. A short shriek burst from my chest and I tried to slam my door shut, but I already had one leg out and ended up just causing more pain and damage than I would’ve if I’d left the door alone. I pushed it back open, avoiding the motorcycle that had almost had a collision with my door, and rubbed my leg. That shit hurt.
The roar of the motorcycle stopped, and the rider whipped off his sunglasses. “Are you trying to get your door taken off?”
My heart had stopped the minute I’d looked into his piercing gray eyes, but anger quickly took over everything. “Do you always swing into parking spaces when someone is opening their door?” I rubbed my leg once more and stumbled awkwardly out of my car. I realized he hadn’t answered me, and after shutting my door and locking the car, I turned to face him, a frown tugging at my lips when I saw him smirking. “I’m fine, if you’re wondering.”
He sat up straight on his Harley and took a deep breath in. “I’m sorry I made you hurt yourself. I’m Kash, by the way.”
“Cash . . . like money? Or Johnny?”
“Um, I guess we can go with Johnny, but with a K.”
“Kash with a K. Got it. That’s a, uh . . . very interesting name. Fits the image, I guess.”
His head jerked back. “I’m sorry, what?”
I took a few steps toward the apartments before turning to look at him, my hand waving over his frame, which was now hunched back over his bike. I wondered who he was here to see. “You know, the whole ‘bad boy’ thing you’ve got going on there. Tattoos, lip ring, Harley. Makes sense you’d have a nickname and try to make it, I don’t know, awesome or something by having it start with a K. Have a nice day; try not to almost take any more car doors off, Kash with a K.”
Kash huffed a short laugh and his brow creased; he opened his mouth to speak but I turned and found my way to my apartment before he could say anything else. I was in a pissy mood, and I really didn’t want to deal with someone like him. Didn’t matter if my heart had skipped a few beats and butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach when I first saw him. I’d had issues with two perfectly normal-looking guys; a bad boy was definitely not in my future. Guys, in general, weren’t in my future.
“Candi, I’m home,” I called, and walked through the living room to my room to kick off my shoes and toss my purse and cell on the bed.
“Ohmigod!” she screeched as she followed me into my room. “You have got to see the guys who just moved in across the hall from us!”
“No thanks,” I mumbled.
“Seriously, Rach, these guys are hot with a capital hot. Mason and Logan, they’re cousins. You’ve got to meet them.”
“Like I said—” I turned and stopped short when I saw her. “Candice, please tell me you haven’t met them yet.”
“Of course I have!”
“Were you wearing that?”
She rolled her eyes and turned to check herself out in my full-length mirror. “Duh, I had to show them the goods that will be living next to them!”
“Candice! You’re in cheer shorts and a bikini top! Did you even go to the pool today?”
“Uh, no. But anyway, it doesn’t matter if you want to meet them or not. We’re going out for dinner with both of them tonight.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to our living room, pushing back the curtain and peeking through the blinds at the unit directly across from ours. It looked the same as it always did. No activity.
“You might be going out for dinner. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, this way you have two guys all to yourself.” I stepped away from the window and headed toward my room, looking back over my shoulder at her as I said, “You might want to warn them that you aren’t a one-guy kind of girl, though.”