Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(24)

“Great. Take them off and get dressed. Let’s get out of here and grab some dinner, yeah?”

“Oh!” he said excitedly. “Can we get those giant burritos?”

“Sure,” I said through a laugh, glad all had been forgiven and we’d avoided a large commotion.



After the biggest burrito I’d ever eaten, and an hour and a half of Monopoly, from a game we’d started three days prior that just never seemed to end, Marcus was in bed, Nancy was out for the evening, and I found myself on my porch with a glass of wine.

I didn’t have the best view of the sound, but I could see a little bit of the water and that always calmed me. The beach was nice, but still waters always gave me strength. They were a deception. A fraud. A bluff. They looked like glass, appeared solid and strong on the surface, but in the end couldn’t hold you up if you needed it. There was something about the fa?ade of still water to which I related.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and stared at the screen. Every now and then, when I was quiet and pensive, I thought about calling Riot. But I never knew what I would say to him. I didn’t know if I would ask him why he’d acted so strangely, or if I’d ask him if he thought about me half as much as I did him.

Then, all of a sudden, my phone lit up and the ringtone I’d never bothered to change started chiming. The screen said two words and my throat closed up at the sight of them.

Riot Bentley

My finger touched the screen to answer the call, and my arm raised the phone to my ear, but my mouth hadn’t gotten the memo yet that it was time to converse.

“How…. What…. How….” I stammered.

“Kalli?”

Oh, God, that voice. That melodious voice that wrapped around me like velvet and chocolate and fire.

“How?” I continued to ponder. How in the hell had he happened to call me at the same moment I was thinking of calling him? After weeks of not speaking. After never having spoken on the phone. “You called me,” I finally managed.

“Kalli, are you all right?”

“You called me, right when I was going to call you….” My voice drifted away, my mind still not able to compute everything happening. It was too weird. Too coincidental.

“You were going to call me?” He sounded hopeful.

“I was thinking about it.”

“I think about you all the time.”

Seven words, those seven words, were all it took to stop my heart. My eyes closed, my breath halted, my entire system shut down as if it were trying to preserve the moment. If I never took another breath, I’d never have to let this moment go. I would live and die in his words, his admission that he was just as hung up on me as I was on him.

I finally exhaled and it was loud and embarrassing, making it obvious I’d been holding my breath. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get a word out, I heard his voice again.

“I’m in Victoria, I have been for a while, and I was going to head back, was going to drive right through Seattle. I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to bother you, wasn’t going to force you to see me, but I know if I drive through Seattle and don’t at least try to see you, I’ll regret it.”

“You’re driving through Seattle?” This time, it was me who sounded hopeful.

“Yeah,” he said on an exhale. “I am. Can I see you?”

“Yeah,” I said, sounding just as relieved as he did.

“Okay, if I leave right now I can make it there in about five hours.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear, checking the time. “That would put you here at three a.m. Why don’t you just sleep there and leave in the morning?”

“I’m not sure I can sleep if I know I’m just going to see you in the morning.”

His words were sweet and soft, and I sort of agreed with him. I had excited nerves running through my body and I wasn’t sure sleep was something I would be capable of either.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay,” he agreed, and I heard him start to move, sounds that made me think of him shoving things into a duffle bag, hastily slipping on a pair of shoes. He was coming to me. “Can you text me your address?”

Suddenly, all the excitement left my body and was replaced with fear. My address? He couldn’t come to my house. I hadn’t thought this through.

“Let’s meet someplace else,” I said, my voice sounding worried and rushed.

“Someplace else?”

“Yeah, uh, there’s a viewpoint where we can meet, look out over the skyline. It’s called Hamilton Park.”

“You don’t want me to come to your house?” He sounded a little hurt and even more suspicious. “Are you married?”

“No! God, no. I’m not married. I just don’t think it’s best for you to come here.”

“Okay, I guess that’s valid. I’ll see you there in about four and a half hours.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you there.” I disconnected and then stared at my phone for a moment, trying to stave off the freak out I could feel building up inside of me. What in the world had I agreed to? And what did one wear to meet someone at a viewpoint in the middle of the night? Good God, this was a mistake.

I stood up and took my wine back inside, then went to raid my closet. An hour later when Nancy tried to quietly sneak in the front door I accosted her before she made it to her room.